Ars amatoria english
The Art of Love
February 14,
Artful and audacious at all times, the Roman poet Ovid claims that he can help any young man or woman find and keep the beloved person he or she longs for; and in the extended poem that the Romans call Ars Amatoria, and that residents of the contemporary Anglosphere refer to as The Art of Love, Ovid sets forth his strategies and tactics for amatory success.
In a manner that might remind some readers of the “self-help” books of the present day, Ovid, writing all the way back around the year 2 A.D., seeks to guide the reader through all of the steps of meeting, wooing, winning, and keeping that special someone. When it comes to starting a conversation, and keeping it going, Ovid’s advice is as follows:
Now is the time for conversation. Be off, rustic modesty! Fortune and Venus favour daring. Do not count on me to teach you the laws of eloquence. Only make a beginning, and the eloquence will follow without your looking for it. You must play the role of a lover. Let what you say express the ache which burns within you, and neglect no means of persuading your mistress. (p. 33)
Some of Ovid’s advice is fairly timeless; at other times, one must apply a bit of historical context. Characteristic in that regard is this passage, in which Ovid tells a young man how to let his beloved know that she is always uppermost in his thoughts:
Take care to hold her sunshade over her, and make a way for her if she finds herself caught up in the crowd. Hasten to place a footstool to help her get into bed. Take off or put on her sandals on her delicate feet. Often, too, though you may be shivering yourself, warm the ice-cold hands of your mistress in your breast. Do not hesitate, though you may feel a little ashamed, to use your hand, the hand of a free man, to hold her mirror. (p. 53)
Note that Ovid is trying to anticipate and refute the likely protest of a proud Roman freeman – something to the effect that holding a mirror for a lady is “slave work.” But Ovid wants his reader to move beyond such thinking. After all, what is more democratizing, more liberating, than the universality of love – of falling in love, of loving and being loved?
By the way, Ovid has some other sage advice for a young man wishing to preserve his relationship with the woman he loves: (1) agree with her regarding what she praises or criticizes; and (2) if you’re playing dice or chess, be sure to let her win.
Ovid also has some (ahem!) bedroom advice for young men, regarding ways to make sure that the connubial aspect of the relationship is most perfectly happy for both partners. It is stated more poetically and elegantly than what one might find in the pages of Playboy or Men’s Health, but is unmistakable in its import. It is near the end of Book II, if you want to look it up for yourself. I will say no more.
Ovid sums up his advice to young men by writing that “May every lover who has triumphed over a fierce Amazon with the sword he has received from me inscribe on his trophies: Ovid was my master” (p. 79). But Ovid is interested in offering advice to young women as well as young men, pointing out that “here, also, is the fair sex demanding lessons from me. So, it is for you, young Beauties, that I reserve what follows” (p. 79).
In a manner that might remind some readers of the “self-help” books of the present day, Ovid, writing all the way back around the year 2 A.D., seeks to guide the reader through all of the steps of meeting, wooing, winning, and keeping that special someone. When it comes to starting a conversation, and keeping it going, Ovid’s advice is as follows:
Now is the time for conversation. Be off, rustic modesty! Fortune and Venus favour daring. Do not count on me to teach you the laws of eloquence. Only make a beginning, and the eloquence will follow without your looking for it. You must play the role of a lover. Let what you say express the ache which burns within you, and neglect no means of persuading your mistress. (p. 33)
Some of Ovid’s advice is fairly timeless; at other times, one must apply a bit of historical context. Characteristic in that regard is this passage, in which Ovid tells a young man how to let his beloved know that she is always uppermost in his thoughts:
Take care to hold her sunshade over her, and make a way for her if she finds herself caught up in the crowd. Hasten to place a footstool to help her get into bed. Take off or put on her sandals on her delicate feet. Often, too, though you may be shivering yourself, warm the ice-cold hands of your mistress in your breast. Do not hesitate, though you may feel a little ashamed, to use your hand, the hand of a free man, to hold her mirror. (p. 53)
Note that Ovid is trying to anticipate and refute the likely protest of a proud Roman freeman – something to the effect that holding a mirror for a lady is “slave work.” But Ovid wants his reader to move beyond such thinking. After all, what is more democratizing, more liberating, than the universality of love – of falling in love, of loving and being loved?
By the way, Ovid has some other sage advice for a young man wishing to preserve his relationship with the woman he loves: (1) agree with her regarding what she praises or criticizes; and (2) if you’re playing dice or chess, be sure to let her win.
Ovid also has some (ahem!) bedroom advice for young men, regarding ways to make sure that the connubial aspect of the relationship is most perfectly happy for both partners. It is stated more poetically and elegantly than what one might find in the pages of Playboy or Men’s Health, but is unmistakable in its import. It is near the end of Book II, if you want to look it up for yourself. I will say no more.
Ovid sums up his advice to young men by writing that “May every lover who has triumphed over a fierce Amazon with the sword he has received from me inscribe on his trophies: Ovid was my master” (p. 79). But Ovid is interested in offering advice to young women as well as young men, pointing out that “here, also, is the fair sex demanding lessons from me. So, it is for you, young Beauties, that I reserve what follows” (p. 79).