Pharsalia

De Bello Civili (Latin pronunciation: [deː ˈbɛlloː kiːˈwiːliː]; On the Civil War), more commonly referred to as the Pharsalia (Latin: [pʰarˈsaːlia], feminine singular), is a Roman epic poem written by the poet Lucan, detailing the civil war between Julius Caesar and the forces of the Roman Senate led by Pompey the Great.

Book 2: In a city overcome by despair, an old veteran presents a lengthy interlude regarding the previous civil war that pitted Marius against Sulla.

He plans to regroup and heroically marches the army across Africa to join forces with King Juba, a trek that occupies most of the middle section of the book.

A banquet is held; Pothinus, Ptolemy's cynical and bloodthirsty chief minister, plots an assassination of Caesar but is killed in his surprise attack on the palace.

[1][8] However, many scholars, such as J. D. Duff and Braund, note that this is a recent name given to the work, and that the earliest manuscripts of the poem refer to it as De Bello Civili (Concerning the Civil War).

"[5] Lucan is heavily influenced by Latin poetic tradition, most notably Ovid's Metamorphoses and of course Virgil's Aeneid, the work to which the Pharsalia is most naturally compared.

Sextus' visit to the Thracian witch Erichtho provides an example; the scene and language clearly reference Aeneas' descent into the underworld (also in Book VI), but while Virgil's description highlights optimism toward the future glories of Rome under Augustan rule, Lucan uses the scene to present a bitter and gory pessimism concerning the loss of liberty under the coming empire.

[citation needed] Like all Silver Age poets, Lucan received the rhetorical training common to upper-class young men of the period.

[9] Lucan also follows the Silver Age custom of punctuating his verse with short, pithy lines or slogans known as sententiae, a rhetorical tactic used to grab the attention of a crowd interested in oratory as a form of public entertainment.

Quintilian singles out Lucan as a writer clarissimus sententiis – "most famous for his sententiae", and for this reason magis oratoribus quam poetis imitandus – "(he is) to be imitated more by orators than poets".

The poem is more naturally organized on principles such as aesthetic balance or correspondence of scenes between books rather than the need to follow a story from a single narrative point of view.

Bella per Emathios plus quam civilia campos iusque datum sceleri canimus, populumque potentem in sua victrici conversum viscera dextra cognatasque acies, et rupto foedere regni certatum totis concussi viribus orbis in commune nefas, infestisque obvia signis signa, pares aquilas et pila minantia pilis.

Wars worse than civil on Emathian plains, and crime let loose we sing; how Rome's high race plunged in her vitals her victorious sword; armies akin embattled, with the force of all the shaken earth bent on the fray; and burst asunder, to the common guilt, a kingdom's compact; eagle with eagle met, standard to standard, spear opposed to spear.

Far from glorious, the battle scenes are portraits of bloody horror, where nature is ravaged to build terrible siege engines and wild animals tear mercilessly at the flesh of the dead.

[16] Lucan conveys this by using a simile (Book 1, lines 151–7) that compares Caesar to a thunderbolt: qualiter expressum uentis per nubila fulmen aetheris inpulsi sonitu mundique fragore emicuit rupitque diem populosque pauentes terruit obliqua praestringens lumina flamma: in sua templa furit, nullaque exire uetante materia magnamque cadens magnamque reuertens dat stragem late sparsosque recolligit ignes.

Just so flashes out the thunderbolt shot forth by the winds through clouds, accompanied by the crashing of the heavens and sound of shattered ether; it splits the sky and terrifies the panicked people, searing eyes with slanting flame; against its own precincts it rages, and, with nothing solid stopping its course, both as it falls and then returns great is the devastation dealt far and wide before it gathers again its scattered fires.

"[18] And while this portrays the leader as indecisive, slow to action, and ultimately ineffective, it does make him the only main character shown to have any sort of "emotional life.

Lucan compares Pompey to a large oak-tree (Book 1, lines 136–43), which is still quite magnificent due to its size but on the verge of tipping over: qualis frugifero quercus sublimis in agro exuuias ueteris populi sacrataque gestans dona ducum nec iam ualidis radicibus haerens pondere fixa suo est, nudosque per aera ramos effundens trunco, non frondibus, efficit umbram, et quamuis primo nutet casura sub Euro, tot circum siluae firmo se robore tollant, sola tamen colitur.

[16] The grand exception to this generally bleak depiction of characters is Cato, who stands as a Stoic ideal in the face of a world gone mad (he alone, for example, refuses to consult oracles to know the future).

Pompey also seems transformed after Pharsalus, becoming a kind of stoic martyr; calm in the face of certain death upon arrival in Egypt, he receives virtual canonization from Lucan at the start of book IX.

Given Lucan's clear anti-imperialism, the flattering Book I dedication to Nero – which includes lines like multum Roma tamen debet ciuilibus armis | quod tibi res acta est – "But Rome is greater by these civil wars, because it resulted in you"[19] – is somewhat puzzling.

Some scholars have tried to read these lines ironically, but most see it as a traditional dedication written at a time before the (supposed) true depravity of Lucan's patron was revealed.

According to Susanna Braund, by choosing to not focus on the gods, Lucan emphasizes and underscores the human role in the atrocities of the Roman civil war.

[21] James Duff, on the other hand, argues that "[Lucan] was dealing with Roman history and with fairly recent events; and the introduction of the gods as actors must have been grotesque".

In other words, he argues that Lucan embraces the metaphor of internal discord and allows it to determine the way the story is told by weaving it into the fabric of the poem itself.

"[37] ..."And those who pacify with blood accursed Savage Teutates, Esus' horrid shrines, And Taranis' altars, cruel as were those Loved by Diana,[a] goddess of the north; Lucan alludes to the barbaric nature of the Celts, while describing the call-out of troops from Gaul, at the beginning of Caesar's civil war.

[c] ..."Et quibus immitis placatur sanguine diro Teutates, horrensque feris altaribus Hesus, Et Taranis Scythicae non mitior ara Dianae.

[d][38] The Celts were accused of the propitiation of their gods by acts of human sacrifice: List of deities mentioned in book 1: The source of Lucan's information is not known – Pharsalia was written about 100 years after the Battle of Pharsalus (9 August 48 BC).

It is possible that oral tradition's about the pagan practices of the Celts were well known in Roman society before Lucan wrote Pharsalia, and that variants arose that were a mix of fact and fiction, designed to entertain and thrill an audience.

[p] Although it is true that the Celts did practice human sacrifice, it is unlikely that it was as barbaric as Lucan suggested, it is more likely to have taken the form of a votive offering to the Celtic gods – possibly in response to a natural or man made disaster, such as a famine or war.