Fall Research: Snakes & Omens in Book 5 of the Aeneid

Salvēte, omnēs! Throughout this September and October during my fall as a high school senior, I have been working to understand Vergil's representations of omens in Aeneid Book 5 -- I have found that Vergil pushes back on the tendency of his characters to unilaterally understand omens, showing that he is against the same stereotyping that I started the Classics in Color to challenge! See my essay below:

Vergil opens Book 5 with a continuation of Aeneas’ struggle to interpret signs. When Aeneas passes Dido’s funeral pyre, Vergil focalizes the narrative by writing that “It is unknown which cause kindles such a fire” (quae tantum accenderit ignem causa latet; 5.4-5). Sailing away from Carthage, Aeneas fails to make sense of those flames as he is “looking back at the [city’s] walls” (moenia respiciens; 5.3). Through the use of the word moenia, Vergil also echoes Aeneas’ memory of Troy. Aeneas’ attachment to the past informs his pietas; he is unwavering in his loyalty to his communities, family, and, of course, the gods – even though he does not maintain his loyalty to Dido. Having to simultaneously keep multiple group’s best interest at heart, Aeneas faces difficulty when making sense of the symbols in his surroundings. As the central character of the Epic with the story hinging around him, Aeneas wants to read an omen definitively, understanding exactly what it indicates at first glance. Vergil positions omens throughout the first four books of the Aeneid, but when he revisits these omens later on in Book 5, he subverts the way that he initially presented them. By deviating from the expectations of what certain omens are associated with, Vergil makes the reader question why Aeneas struggles to interpret signs. Vergil’s intentional ambiguity challenges his audience to embrace the nuance of the Epic instead of bottling the story up into binaries. 

Although Vergil clearly establishes that snakes are a dangerous omen in Book 2, he redefines the role of the snake when it slithers on Anchises’ tomb in Book 5. The first time that a snake appears in the Epic is during Book 2, in which two serpents engulf and eat Laocoon. This scene of destruction makes the snake a marker of death to Aeneas, who is then “surprised” (obstipuit visu Aeneas; 5.90) at the sight of a snake on his father’s tomb. Vergil draws the earlier passage about Laocoon to the scene at Anchises’ tomb by describing both snakes as tightly “grasping” their surroundings (amplexus; 2.214 and 5.86). By using the word amplexus in both Book 2 and Book 5, Vergil signals to the reader that these passages can be read in conversation with each other. However, when juxtaposed, the Book 2 snake scene and that of Book 5 contrast. 

In Book 5, Vergil subverts the expectation that he set in Book 2 – that snakes are vicious – by utilizing the adjectives placide (5.86) and innoxius (5.92) to describe the snake on Anchises’ tomb, rendering it “peaceful” and “innocuous.” This snake also “tastes the sacrificial feast” (libavitque dapes; 5.92) without harming the people part of Anchises’ burial rites. Vergil indicates that this snake, perhaps representing the spirit of those who have died, simply wants to insert itself as part of the ritual. Vergil demonstrates Aeneas’ fear of the snake by likening it to a militaristic “marching column” (agmine; 5.90). Vergil used agmine in line 212 of Book 2 in the corresponding passage about the serpents that kill Laocoon. In that moment, the snakes are standing intimidatingly in “one line” (agmine; 2.212) and are the subject of the verb “seek,” (petunt; 2.213) with a clear battlefront connotation. Given that Aeneas is narrating Book 2, he is the one who first uses the word agmine, attributing violence to the omen of a snake. In Book 5, when likened to an agmen, this snake has the agency to pose a threat to the funeral rites, making it all the more significant that it chooses to take a bite of the feast and slither away innocently. Vergil intentionally chooses words that are at odds with each other – how can an agmen be “peaceful” if its whole purpose is to fight? By purposefully adding nuance to his Book 5 depiction of a snake, Vergil asserts that contradictions can coexist, showing that the characters (both people and animals) of his Epic do not fit perfectly into one mold. 

In both Book 2 and Book 5, Vergil uses forms of the words anguis and serpens to describe the snakes in each scene, grounding the scenes in seemingly interchangeable language to show Aeneas’ unilateral view of every snake as one symbol. In Book 2, the angues in line 204 emerge from the “tranquil depths” (tranquila per alta; 2.203). This snake represents destruction coming out of peace, while the singular anguis on Anchises’ tomb seems to function oppositely – Aeneas thinks of it as a destructive force with peaceful qualities that ultimately does not harm him or the funeral rites. Although the two snakes are the same type of animal (and can be both thought of as anguis and serpens), they do not have to foreshadow the same outcome. Vergil implies that thinking of people, animals, and objects merely as unequivocal “symbols” is an oversimplification. Instead, he challenges the reader to be comfortable with the complexity because it adds to the element of surprise and irony in the Epic’s larger trajectory. Aeneas attempts to harken back to the snake in Book 2, although Vergil has proven it to be very different from the snake in Book 5. Vergil shows that the plight of Aeneas’ sign-deciphering struggles lies in his propensity to be stuck in the past. By echoing the language of the passage in Book 2, Vergil extends into Book 5 Aeneas’ difficulty to understand the nuances of omens. 

Vergil ends Book 5 by subverting his audience’s expectations when Palinurus dies in the midst of a calm sea, showing that omens assumed to be positive can turn out to be destructive. Aeneas laments that Palinurus died because he “trusted too much in the calm sky and sea” (o nimium caelo et pelago confuse sereno; 5.870). However, Palinurus was skeptical of Somnus and the ominous calm throughout the closing scene, so Aeneas’ epitaph is a clear misinterpretation. The words caelo sereno that Aeneas uses in this lamentation echo Palinurus’ skepticism on line 851. When drawing these two lines together, Vergil’s polyptoton is evident: Palinurus’ statement is in the genitive, caeli sereni, while Aeneas refers to the caelo as sereno. Aeneas does not repeat exactly what Palinurus said when he was doubtful of the serene sky right before his ultimate death. Aeneas has oversimplified this last scene, demonstrating his flawed understanding of how and why the gods intended for Palinurus to die. Aeneas’ struggle to understand omens – and constant wish to oversimplify them – speaks to this larger theme of his struggle to understand the fated events of the Epic. Throughout Book 5, Vergil preemptively marks the transition away from the Odyssean half of the Aeneid by differentiating Odysseus and his ability to masterfully interpret signs from Aeneas and his lack thereof.