Catullus is back from his year on the staff of a provincial governor. In idle conversation with a friend and his girl, he complains that the material advantages were nothing to write home about, and takes a pop at his erstwhile boss before being caught out in an embarrassing bit of, well, exaggeration.
This piece shows how natural and conversational this metre (hendecasyllables), which Catullus used in most of his most famous poems, makes things seem. Change the details to suit place and time – substitute a Mercedes for the bearers and an investment bank for the governor’s staff, for example – and this talk between fashionable young people could have taken place anytime and anywhere from modern New York to Napoleonic Paris or Elizabethan London. More alien, I hope, is the way in which the conversation kind of assumes that eight Bithynian men are livestock or a piece of domestic equipment, rather than people. Human rights would have seemed a meaningless concept to the average Roman in the late Republic, except perhaps for those that came with being a Roman citizen.
See the illustrated blog post here.
To listen, press play: