FURTHEST VOICES IN VIRGIL’S DIDO II 9. Dido’s dream, probably the most famous in Latin literature, is central to the economy of Book 4 238. Structurally, it is located in a highly charged central area of the narrative, where the main events of the interaction between Dido and Aeneas have already taken place, but the dénouement of the story is still uncertain. As just noted, this dream is focused on Dido’s inner feelings and emotions rather than concerned with providing orders, advice, or forecasts 239. It would be simplistic to oppose the ‘prophetic’ dreams of epic to the more psy- chological dreams of tragedy, but there is no doubt that tragedy does display a more marked tendency to represent states of nightmarish emotional distress and consequent cognitive uncertainty on the part of the characters – not necessarily of the audience 240. However, since Dido’s dream is complemented by explicit references to two famous tragic archetypes, Pentheus and Orestes, and – remarkably – mentions the scenic nature of these models (scaenis at 4.471 signals the immi- nent closure of the tragic space opened up by scaena at 1.164) 241, the La prima parte di questo articolo è stata pubblicata in «SIFC» s. IV, 1 (2008), alle pp. 60-109. 238 I propose to discuss elsewhere the theoretical issues raised by a treatment of lit- erary dreams in psychoanalytic terms. 239 STEINER 1952: 48-51, at 49. 240 Medea’s dream in A.R. 3.616-635, with its subtle combination of disparate ele- ments, would be enough to dispose of too neat a contrast. 241 Lucretius provides a theoretical explanation of this phenomenon at 4.962-1017, with special reference to performances and the scaena (983) at 973-983: see CUCCHIARELLI 1994: 64 with nn. 39-41, 69 with n. 49. FREUD will discuss the construction of the dream in terms of ‘staging’ (FREUD 1906: 59), or of a ‘scenic situation’ (‘szenische Situation’) arranged through the process of ‘secondary revision’, which functions as an author / director of sorts and makes the dream intelligible (FREUD 1923: 120). See later, p. 197. Furthest Voices in Virgil’s Dido 195 tension between different generic affiliations is set up as a key issue for interpretation. I would suggest that the text underscores the tragic nature of Dido’s dream less to emphasise Dido’s plight than to encou- rage an interpretive strategy attuned to the complexities of tragic texts. This far into Book 4, there can be no doubt left that Dido’s story is constructed as a tragedy, and such an explicit self-referential declara- tion, remarkable as it still is, would add little to what readers have already realised over the past few hundred lines. The overtly tragic nature of the dream, on the other hand, requires an interpretation as complex and multilayered as the ones normally elicited by tragic texts themselves, and the absence of an interpreting character within the narrative underlines the point that this task is left completely to the readers. The dream does not convey a clear-cut message, nor does it indicate a specific course of action. Rather, it gives voice, in a suitably intricate and logically ‘perverse’ fashion, to a set of emotions and instincts which the previous part of the book had only implicitly, tan- gentially revealed. We cannot escape the interpretive challenge the dream poses, yet at the same time we are unlikely to avoid the peculiar form of interpretive frustration which is intrinsic to tragic texts, unac- customed as they are to offering unambiguous resolutions. Dido dreams that in her fury (furentem) she is pursued by Aeneas ‘in atto d’odio’ 242 (ferus). She flees alone, almost an exile from her own land 243, wandering in search of the compatriots who have now aban- doned her (we know that they reacted unfavourably to her relation- ship, and at 321 Dido, admittedly in a highly charged emotional 242 PASCOLI’S plastic translation (cf. TRAINA 1989: 99). 243 Cf. Eur. Medea 278-279, which metaphorically introduces the themes of flight and pursuit. Apollonius’ Medea will interpret her departure from Colchis to marry Jason as exile (HUNTER 1987: 137). In Ovid, Dido explicitly considers herself an exile from Tyre: exul agor, cineresque viri patriamque relinquo, / et feror in dubias hoste sequente vias (her.7.115-116). Virgil himself pointed in this direction at 1.357 tum celerare fugam patriaque excedere suadet, where patria excedere foreshadows Ovid’s exul. Dido’s status as an exile reinforces the similarities with Aeneas’ own plight (cf. Aen. 3.10-11 litora cum patriae lacrimans portumque relinquo / … feror exsul in altum; and Sychaeus’ appear- ance as a ghost at 1.353-359, warning Dido to depart, parallel Hector’s at 2.270-297), but may also signal a further reference to Medea (see now BATTISTELLA 2007). Of course, Anna, as Dido’s double, will be an actual exile. 196 Alessandro Schiesaro outburst, refers to the Tyrians as her ‘foes’ – infensi Tyrii). This poignant dream is glossed by two similes (465-473): agit ipse furentem in somnis ferus Aeneas, semperque relinqui sola sibi, semper longam incomitata videtur ire viam et Tyrios deserta quaerere terra, Eumenidum veluti demens videt agmina Pentheus et solem geminum et duplices se ostendere Thebas, aut Agamemnonius scaenis agitatus Orestes, armatam facibus matrem et serpentibus atris cum fugit ultricesque sedent in limine Dirae. The logic and contents of this remarkable sequence deserve close attention 244. The most relevant feature of the dream proper is its symme- try: Aeneas pursues Dido who pursues the Tyrii, and is thus at the same time object and subject of a chase, both passive and active agent. The assonance between ferus and furentem reinforces this effect, which is of paramount importance. Symmetry, in fact, paves the way to specularity, as Dido’s actions in the dream suggest a close parallel with Aeneas’, and internal echoes make it clear that we are invited to perceive Dido’s and Aeneas’ fates as very similar. Deserta quaerere terra (sc.Tyrios) at line 468 echoes Aeneas’ statement at the opening of Book 3, when he declares that after the destruction of Troy diversa exilia et desertas quaerere terras / auguriis agimur divom (3.4-5). The connection between the two pas- sages extends to the repetition of the verb ago, while auguriis agimur divom is echoed in the lines immediately preceding the dream, at 4.464- 465 (multaque praeterea vatum praedicta priorum / terribili monitu horrif- icant). Finally, Dido’s statement that – in her dream – she is ‘seeking the Tyrians through a desert land’ recalls Aeneas’ own declaration to Venus in disguise once he has reached Carthage: ipse ignotus, egens, Libyae deserta peragro, / Europa et Asia pulsus (1.384-385). 244 See KREVANS 1993: 265-271; WALDE 2001: 285-287. KHAN 1996 offers a clever anal- ysis in the context of a wide-ranging discussion of Dido’s ‘rebounding curse.’ OLIENSIS 1997: 305-306, and 2001: 48-51 focus (independently from Khan) on the theme of maternal aggression in the dream and the simile, a topic on which see also SUZUKI 1989: 114-118. Further remarks in BOWIE 1998: 72-73. On Aeneas’ acute Oedipical trou- bles see RECKFORD 1996. Furthest Voices in Virgil’s Dido 197 These elements of similarity and specularity are not wholly unex- pected, since the resemblance between the two main characters is a structural feature of the Aeneid, as we are invited to consider from the first time they are introduced, in Book 1 245. In the present context, however, this mirroring is especially significant, for it represents a typi- cal feature of the logic of the unconscious, which allows the co-pre- sence of contradictory elements (Dido as subject and object, for instance), and is apt to favour identification over individuation. In our case, Dido and Aeneas both belong to the category of ‘fleeing and pur- suing’ subjects, despite the fact that they are, of course, very different characters. In the context of a dream whose logical patterns are symmetry and identification we are naturally led to wonder whether emotions assigned to one character can also be ascribed to the other: this con- fusion of roles inevitably raises questions as to the overall meaning of the dream, and especially about the characterization of Dido’s inner feelings at this highly dramatic juncture. For instance, since Aeneas’ chase is presented as an hostile act, an aggressive connotation may be seen to extend to Dido’s actions as well, which would thus echo her promise at 384-386 – sequar atribus ignibus absens / … omnibus umbra locis adero 246. We should nonetheless be sceptical about Schrader’s simplifying emendation of Tyrios into Teucros at 468, while recognizing that the assonance allows the text to echo, sous rature, this interesting alternative. Inversion also plays a crucial role 247: Dido imagines that she is being pursued by Aeneas, and in fact at 6.450-451 she is still ‘wandering 245 On specularity and desire see RIMELL 2006, esp. 34-35 on the Aeneid. 246 For a similar reflexive pattern see the dream of the Erinyes in Aesch. Eumenides 94-142, with DEVEREUX 1976: 150-167, esp. 155. 247 Already ancient authors were aware that dreams may express the opposite of what they ostensibly represent, cf. Plin. ep.1.18.2 refert tamen, eventura soleas an con- traria somniare. mihi reputanti somnium meum istud, quod times tu, egregiam actionem por- tendere videtur, with BETTINI 1986: 161-167. Freud reflects at length on the role of inversion in dreams as a means to dissimulate censored emotions: FREUD 1900: 141-142, and, specifically about dreams of punishment, FREUD 1900: 557.