Book Review: The Aeneid

A part of me thinks it’s silly to rank a book so unquestionably influential, so bound to the context of the time it was written. But alas, I have opinions, tempered with all due respect to the great fathers of literature. 

Just as a disclaimer, I have read The Aeneid before, and I probably would not have read it again if it wasn’t required for a class. Granted, I did get more out of reading it this time around, but I still find reading heroic literature a little cringey and eye-roll-inducing. I read The Iliad and The Odyssey a while ago, but all I really remember is that Odysseus was all “Me, Me, Me! Look at me!” and Hector is my favorite ancient figure. Since I also didn’t get a lot out of those, I think my problem might be with ancient literature in general. (Although the ancient novels I’ve read: Callirhoe and An Ephesian Tale have actually been quite hilarious, despite both being tragedies. That blog is coming soon.)

I think the source of my issue with ancient lit is the fact that the characters have absolutely no agency. Their actions and decisions are always blamed/excused by the gods. Aeneas runs away from a fight? He was led by Venus. Turnus runs away too? He was tricked by Juno. They want to drink a ton of wine and get drunk? They need to celebrate and appease Bacchus. Aeneas decides one morning to abandon his wife Dido? (And to all of you who will protest that Dido was not his wife, note that Aeneas is the only one who claims that Dido was never his wife, whereas the gods refer to Dido as his wife multiple times.) Ah, cruel Fate is forcing Aeneas to follow his destiny mandated by Jove. 

And while all of the characters constantly wail, cry, and beat their chests (it seriously makes you question if this is representative of grief in the ancient world), there is absolutely no emotional depth. Again, the little to no emotions (other than grief) are felt because the gods want them to. 

I also don’t like it when either 1) the author gives the main character a hero complex (which is practically a given when reading heroic literature), or 2) the author tries to force us to think of the main character as a hero despite his obvious, and perhaps too massive, flaws. Let us decide for ourselves whether to admire a character, flaws and all. And Aeneas most definitely has flaws, with his rash passion, anger, and narrow-mindedness. Considering Virgil’s dislike of war and of consuming anger/violence, it’s a little surprising that he gave his hero Aeneas these same qualities that are associated with Aeneas’ biggest enemy Juno.

So while a lot of people may claim that this epic is just shameless propaganda for the Roman agenda, Virgil doesn’t paint heroism in a black-and-white fashion. In other words, he doesn’t give the Roman people a clear template to follow of the “ideal Roman citizen.” 

Despite that added complexity, which I am grateful for, I do prefer something with more character depth. Again, all due respect to Virgil. I’ll be shocked if I ever say something isn’t worth reading, and I will be horrified if I say it about something so influential. But if you are looking for something to read for entertainment purposes, I definitely wouldn’t read this for enthralling characters, relatability, or even captivating action.