Ovid's Color Symbolism in Love Tales
Ovid's Color Symbolism in Love Tales
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                                    CATHERINE CAMPBELL RHORER
        ('and redness mingled with snowy white', 111.423). From a cold and unfeel-
        ing statue who, Ovid has told us, spurned all lovers, he has become a living
        and hotly passionate boy (111.430: uritur, 'he burns'; 464: uror amore mei,
       flammas moveoque feroque! 'I burn with love of myself, I inflame and am
       inflamed!'). We see him as the first blush of feeling steals over his ivory
       complexion, just as we saw Pygmalion's statue come to life.
           Later, when he has discovered his disastrous error and grieves for his
       unattainable love, he beats his breast with marble palms (111.481: mar-
       moreis percussit pectora palmis) and his flesh takes on a rosy hue:
                    pectora traxerunt roseum percussa ruborem,
                    non aliter quam poma solent, quae candida parte,
                    parte rubent, aut ut variis solet uva racemis
                    ducere purpureum nondum matura colorem.
                                                                  (111.482-85)
                    His breast, when struck, took on a rosy flush,
                    As apples often do, which white in part,
                    In part are red, or as grapes not yet ripe
                    In speckled clusters, acquire a purplish tint.
        Narcissus has offered this demonstration of his grief after describing his
        mirrored image as food for his passion (111.479: misero praebere alimenta
       furori, 'to nourish wretched madness'), and just so, the more he feels, the
        more he blushes, like fruit ripening in the warmth of the sun.'' But as soon
        as he sees his own image growing rosy and ripe, he can endure his passion
        no longer, and begins to melt away like wax or frost:
                    non tulit ulterius, sed, ut intabescere flavae
                    igne levi cerae, matutinaeque pruinae
                    sole tepente solent, sic adtenuatus amore
                    liquitur et tecto paulatim carpitur igni.
                                                                                     (111.487-90)
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                          RED AND WHITE IN OVID'S METAMORPHOSES
        the dawn (111. ISO), and it is traditionally associated with the Roman wed-
        ding." Furthermore, croceus is, elsewhere in Ovid, a synonym for the color
        red in general.'' Even as a flower, Narcissus remains an image of innocence
        brushed with the fire of passion."
          Hermaphroditus is a similar figure, whose first encounter with passion in
        the person of Salmacis is also described in terms of the contrast of red and
        white:
                                              pueri rubor ora notavit-
                    nescit enim quid amor-, sed et erubuisse decebat.
                    hic color aprica pendentibus arbore pomis
                    aut ebori tincto est, aut sub candore rubenti,
                    cum frustra resonant aera auxiliaria, lunae.
                                                                   (IV. 329-33)
       The image of tinted ivory, like Narcissus' marble hands and ivory neck, like
       Pygmali6n's ivory statue, suggests Hermaphroditus' innocence, here made
       explicit: nescit enim quid amor ('for he knew nothing of love'). But the
       ivory is dyed, and the other points of the simile, the ripening fruit, the
       eclipsed moon being summoned back to life by the cymbals, suggest his
       latent and awakening sexuality. The emphasis, however, remains on his re-
       jection of passion, as Salmacis reaches out to clasp his ivory neck, eburnea
       colla (IV.335). When Hermaphroditus sheds his clothes, she becomes still
       more inflamed and her eyes, like the pool itself, gleam with the sun's heat
       (IV.347-49). Hermaphroditus remains cool and white: ut eburnea si quid
       signa tegat claro vel candida lilia vitro ('as if someone were covering ivory
       statues or white lilies with clear glass', IV.354-55). Here that whiteness
       seems still more frozen in its glasslike covering of water. Though Ovid does
       not again refer to color in the tale, its final word (IV.388) is tinxit ('dyed').
       As the blushing Hermaphroditus resembled dyed ivory, so his incorporation
       with Salmacis, his brutal discovery of sexual passion, has been like being
       dipped in the dye of what Ovid calls (IV.388) incestum medicamen, 'an
       unchaste potency '.
          A third parallel figure is Atalanta in Book X. She too, as an unawakened
       virgin, has an ivory complexion: tergaque iactantur crinesper eburnea ('her
       hair is tossed over her ivory back', X.592). Under the admiring gaze of Hip-
       pomenes, however, she blushes:
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                                    CATHERINE CAMPBELL RHORER
        Both animals are white," and both are common parallels for the fleeing
        virgin.16 The blood-smeared lamb and dove, then, are graphic representa-
        tions of sexual innocence overcome by erotic violence. This same contrast,
        with the same significance, occurs more prominently in Philomela's
        tapestry: purpureasque notas filis intexuit albis ('she embroidered purple
        designs on white cloth', VI.577). Philomela, like Ovid, chooses the colors
        red and white to communicate her violated chastity. And at the end of the
        tale, the spot of blood reappears on the breasts of the sparrows Procne and
        Philomela (VI.670: signataque sanguine pluma est, 'their plumage is
        stamped with blood'), the blood of the innocent child Itys, shed in the furor
        of erotic vengeance.
           It is in this context of violent, erotic red and innocent, unawakened white
        that we must read the story of Pyramus and Thisbe in Book IV. The story is
        framed by the miracle of the mulberry tree, whose berries have changed
        from white to blood-red:" quaepoma alba ferebatht nunc nigra ferat con-
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                          RED AND WHITE IN OVID'S METAMORPHOSES
         tactu sanguinis arbor ('how a tree which used to bear white fruit now
        through contact with blood bears black', IV.51-52) and nam color in porno
        est, ubi permaturuit, ater ('for the fruit when ripened is black in color',
        IV.165). We are referred to this miracle several times within the body of the
        tale as well: arbor ibi niveis uberrima pomis ('there was a tree there laden
        with snowy berries', IV.89); arborei fetus aspergine caedis in atram/vertun-
        tur faciem, madefactaque sanguine radix/purpureo tingit pendentia mora
        colore ('the tree's fruit sprayed with gore is darkened and the roots drench-
        ed with blood taint the hanging mulberries with a purplish color', 125-27);
        sic facit incertam pomi color ('still the fruit's color perplexes her', 132).
        This tree, whose berries change from white to red, is kept constantly before
        our eyes in a tale which appears to concernlovers who die with their chastity
        intact.
           Until this fateful day, the lovers have been content to talk to one another
        in the daytime, through the crack in their wall. At night, we are told, they
        would separate (IV.79: sub noctem dixere 'Vale', 'at nightfall they said
        "Goodbye"'), only to come together again at the dawn:
                    postera nocturnos Aurora removerat ignes,
                    solque pruinosas radiis siccaverat herbas:
                    ad solitum coiere locum.
                                                                                      (IV.81-83)
                    The next day's dawn had ousted the fires of night,
                    And the sun's rays had dried the frost on the grass:
                    They met at the usual place.
       Since most Ovidian lovers contrive to meet at night, and since in any event
       one would have thought it easier for them to be unobserved at night, their
       behavior seems inappropriate. Night and shadow, of course, are proper for
       pudor, but unnecessary for innocence. Pyramus and Thisbe confine their
       meetings to the daylight hours, when Aurora has taken away the night fires,
       because they are still chaste and untouched by shame. Though they love,
       they have yet to experience the real power of erotic desire.
          Consequently their decision to meet outside the city walls at night,
       although such a meeting would have been easier to arrange in the daylight,
       when people were normally out and about, and when there would have been
       no danger of losing the way (IV.87: neve sit errandum), represents a change
       in the nature of their affection, a movement away from the innocent
       whiteness of the noon sky.
         Thisbe, like so many Ovidian females made bold by her desire (IV.96:
       audacem faciebat amor), reaches the appointed spot too soon. She is just in
       time to meet a lioness. The lion is the image of a violent predator, connected
       by the poet with the wooing lover1*and with the erotic figures of Hip-
       pomenes and Atalanta, who offended Venus and were aroused by her to
       defile the sanctuary of Cybele with sexual intercourse.I9 Thisbe escapes
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                                    CATHERINE CAMPBELL RHORER
       from the thirsty lioness, but leaves behind her cloak to be bloodied in her
       place. One wonders why the draught of water did not wash the blood from
       the beast's mouth, and must conclude that for Ovid the bloodied cloak, not
       just a torn and shredded garment, is more important than logical consis-
       tency.
          The episode has sexual overtones. By this time in the Metamorphoses, we
       must surely have become alert to the erotic dangers that lurk in forest pools
       and rivers, dangers that have already overtaken Syrinx, Actaeon and Nar-
       cissus and will soon catch up with Hermaphroditus. Thisbe's close brush
       with the lioness is like a brush with sexuality itself, and the rape of her veil is
       a symbolic violation of her chastity."
          Pyramus finds the bloodied garment and quite properly rebukes himself
       for arriving late. His first response is the pallor of fear (IV.106: totoque
       expalluit ore, 'he grew pale throughout all his face'), a frequent symptom of
       approaching death and the opposite of the innocent lover's blush." What
       will destroy the pair, he exclaims, is night (IV.108: una duos nox perdet
       amantes, 'a single night will destroy two lovers'), a statement whose sym-
       bolic truth he can only dimly perceive. He fulfills his desire to be joined with
       Thisbe by clutching her cloak and killing himself under their appointed tree,
       leaving his body as prey to the lions he believes to have killed her. His death
       is like an erotic embrace, as he kisses the garment, plunges his sword in his
       groin (IV.119: demisit in ilia ferrum) and lies back, spent, while his hot
       blood gushes forth22like water from a broken pipe to impregnate the fruit
       of the tree (IV.125: arborei fetus) with its red dye.
          Thisbe returns in fear lest she deceive her lover (IV.128: ne fallat
       amantem) - fallat ('deceive') being a word with particular erotic
       overtones,23especially significant here in the context of Thisbe's quasi-
       erotic brush with the lioness. She grows pale at the sight of her dying lover
       (IV.134-35: oraque buxo/pallidiora gerens, 'her face becoming paler than
       boxwood') and mingles her tears with his blood, her first attempt at
       physical union and the parallel to Pyramus' gesture with her cloak. When
       she discovers his ivory scabbard empty of its sword (IV. 147-48: ense/vidit
       ebur vacuum), her impulse, like Pyramus' before her, is to find union in
       death. The symbol of this union is to be a shared tomb, and its offspring
       (IV.161: fetus) is to be the darkened fruit of the mulberry tree.24She stabs
       herself in the breast with the same sword, still warm with Pyramus' blood
       (IV. 163: quod adhuc a caede tepebat), a second reference to the heat of his
       wound (IV.120: ferventi . . . e vulnere). The gods hear her prayers, and the
       mulberry ever after bears dark fruit.
          Pyramus and Thisbe, then, is not merely a story of star-crossed lovers,
       brought to death by cosmic accident.25 It is rather a tale of innocence
       destroyed by passion, of the dangers that lurk outside the walls of civiliza-
       tion and that threaten lovers who desire to obliterate the physical and
       spiritual boundaries that separate them.26 Paradoxically Pyramus and
       Thisbe, like so many other lovers in the Metamorphoses, share some of the
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                          RED AND WHITE IN OVID'S METAMORPHOSES
        problems experienced by the sophisticated Roman lovers of the Amores and
        Ars Amatoria. In the beginning their love flourished under ideal Ovidian con-
        ditions: they were physically separated but able to communicate through their
        common wall.27Like the elegiac lover in this respect, though unlike him in
        others, Pyramus and his beloved had been secure within their city and the
        conventions of citified love. But when they leave behind the safety of that
        world and seek a union that removes boundaries, they find the only such
        union possible for them: they are joined in death and transformation. The
        story of Salmacis and Hermaphroditus, which concludes the cycle of the
        Minyeides, makes the same point in a different way. For Hermaphroditus
        too has ventured into the unknown wilderness (IV.294-95: ignotis errare
        locis, ignota videre/flumina gaudebat, 'he rejoiced to wander through
        unknown places, to see unknown rivers') and has been seized unawares by
        an untamed passion. Thus the metamorphosis of the mulberry tree is far
        from incidental t o the tale of Pyramus and T h i ~ b eRather
                                                                .~    it is the central
        image of a story which speaks to Ovid's abiding concern with the confron-
        tation of innocence and passion in a world where the boundaries of civiliza-
        tion are only the lost dream of an irreclaimable past."
Wesleyan University
NOTES
            1. In general, blood in Homer and late epic is dark or black, in contr,ast to the whiteness of
        the wounded flesh. In lyric genres blood is usually red. See J. Andre, Etude sur les termes de
        couleur duns la langue latine (Paris, 1949), 327-28 for the relevant evidence from Greek and
        Latin poetry. In the Metamorphoses, blood is usually red: 11.607: candida puniceo perfudit
        membra cruore ('she drenched her white limbs in red blood'); V.83: rutilum vomit iNe cruorem
        ('he vomits red blood'); VIII.383: exiguo rubefecit sanguine saetas ('it reddened the bristles
        with a little blood'), and elsewhere. But it is also associated with ater and niger ('black' or
        'dark') in the description of the mulberry tree, lV.51-52 and 125-27. See also note 17 below.
           2. The red or rose-colored tint to the skin is commonplace in Greek erotic poetry and in
        Roman poetry after Catullus. See Andre'(n. 1 above), 325. In the Metamorphoses, see these ex-
       amples: 1.484: pulchra verecundo subfuderat ora rubore ('colored fair face with niodest red');
        111.183-85: qui color infectis adversi solis ab ictu/nubibus esse solet autpurpureae Aurorae,/is
       fuit in vultu visaesine veste Dianae ('the color clouds get, struck and tinged by the sun's angle,
       or that of the purple dawn, was the one in the face of Diana seen naked'), and elsewhere.
           3. Met. 111.483-84: non aliter quam poma solent, quae candida parte,/parte rubent ('as
       apples often do, which, white in part, in part are red'); VIII.676: et de purpureis conlectae
       viribus uvae ('and grapes gathered from the purple vines'), and elsewhere.
           4. Met. X.267: conlocat hanc stratis concha Sidonide tinctis ('he arranges her on a bed col-
       ored with Sidonian dye'); X.211-12: desinit esse cruor, Tyrioque nitentior ostro/flos oritur ('it
       is no longer blood, and a flower outshining Tyrian purple springs up'), and elsewhere.
           5. Met. 11.116: mundum rubescere vidit ('he saw the world redden'); V1.47-48: ut solet aer
       purpureus fieri, cum prirnum Aurora movetur ('as the sky is known to become purple when the
       dawn first shows'); V11.705: quodsit roseospectabilisore ('though she may be conspicuous by
       her rosy face') - of Aurora; 111.183-85 in note 2, above, and elsewhere.
           6. Met. XIV.313: niveo factum de marmoresignum ('statue made from snowy marble'). See
       Andr6 (n. 1 above), 340: 'De toutes les variCtb du marbre, la blanche etait, k I'origine, la plus
       recherchee. Aussi le d&riv6 marmoreus devint-il un synonyme de candidus.' There are in the
       Metamorphoses numerous examples of humans and animals changing into stone or marble
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                                    CATHERINE CAMPBELL RHORER
       statues who are described as growing pale and bloodless: 11.824: pallent amissosanguine venue
       ('the veins turn pale with loss o f blood'); V.249: ore Medusaeo silicem sine sanguinefecit
       ('with Medusa's face he turned it to bloodless flint'), and elsewhere.
          7. Met. X.247-48: interea niveum mirafeliciter arte/sculpsit ebur ('meanwhile with amazing
       skill he successfully carved snowy ivory'); and elsewhere where eburneus has the general
       significance of white.
          8. Met. IV.355: candida lilia ('white lilies'); X.212-13: formamque capit, quam /ilia, si
       non/purpureus color his, argenteus esset in illis ('it takes the form lilies have, except the one is
       purplish in color, the other silvery').
          9. Met. VI.49: et breve post tempus candescere solis a b ortu ('and after a short time
       becomes white when the sun is up'); XV. 194: candidus in summo est ('at its highest it is white').
       See Andre (n. 1 above), 336: 'Le soleil est avant tout I'astre "au disque d'or" . . . Mais il est
       aussi d2s Ennius le soleil "d'une blancheur tblouissante".'
          10. Charles Segal, Landscape in Ovid's Metamorphoses: A Study in the Transformation of
       a Literary Symbol, Hermes Einzelschrift 23 (Wiesbaden, 1969), 46, refers the image of apples
       and unripe grapes t o the traditions of Greek lyric. Though the erotic associations of these fruits
       are indeed of great antiquity, it is Ovid's contribution to have shifted the focus from their red
       or purple color to their contrasting tones of red and white.
          11. Ovid dresses the god Hymenaeus in saffron-dyed clothes, Met. X.I. Anderson notes,
       Ovid's Metamorphoses Books 6-10 (Norman, Okla., 1972), 476, note to X.l-3, that 'saffron
       was the color for Roman brides to wear'.
          12. Croceus refers to colors from yellow through orange and red. See Andre (n. 1 above),
       154. Hermann Fraenkel, Ovid: A Poet between Two Worlds (Berkeley, 1945), 214, note 36:
        'Ooceus in line 509 stands for "reddish" in general, not distinguishing a particular shade, as
       can be seen from Ovid's describing the crocus flower as ruber (Fasti I. 342; Am. 11.6.22, next
       to Punica; Ars. Amat. 1.104) or puniceus (Fasti V.318).' See also Boemer, Metamorphosen
       1-111(Heidelberg, 1969), 570, note to lines 509-10, for additional examples of the poetic treat-
       ment of the narcissus as a reddish flower.
          13. Bernd Manuwald, 'Narcissus bei Konon und Ovid', Hermes 103 (1975), 365-66, argues
       that the emphasis on red and white in the description of Narcissus is indicative of his beauty
       alone, and that his loss of color before death merely signals the loss of his beauty. He appears
       to base his argument upon Andre, who says of the color red (n. 1 above, 326): 'Le rouge se
       pr&te avant tout a' I'Cvocation des sentiments qui s'expriment sur le visage, colkre et surtout
       honte et pudeur, et le thtme de la pudeur rejoint celui de la beaut6 fchinine, puisqu'il n'est
       qu'un charme de plus.' Of the combination of red and white, AndrC says (347): 'La moiti6de
       ses exemples interessent les tons gracieux du visage, blanc, rose et rouge, du visage ftminin sur-
       tout . . . Les autres associations ont un caractere en gCntral accidental.' It is the aim of this
       essay to demonstrate that, in the Metamorphoses at least, the other associations of red and
       white are not accidental, and that Ovid's fascinati~nwith this color contrast is more than an in-
       terest in physical beauty or a reliance upon poetic cliche. Segal (n. 10 above), 34-35, finds the
       flower expressive not in its color contrast but in its self-enclosure: 'The detail underlines both
       the ambiguous irony of Narcissus' "innocence" and the self-enclosed character of his sur-
       render t o love.' While I do not quarrel with Segal's interpretation, I would go further to say
       that the flower represents not only the particular psychic experience of Narcissus but a more
       general experience of Ovidian lovers who meet passion for the first time.
          14. See particularly Am. 1.5.7-8: illa verecundis lux est praebenda puellis,/qua timidus
       latebrassperet haberepudor ('that light should be given to bashful girls, so timid modesty may
       hope for concealment').
          15. I cannot find reference in Ovid to the whiteness of the lamb, though it is called nitida
       ('shining') by Horace (Sat. 11.3.214) and mndidus ('white') by Tibullus (11.5.38). According to
       Andre (n. 1 above), 338: 'L'agneau est toujours blanc . . .' The dove is termed white in Met.
       XlII.674: niveas columbas ('snowy doves'). Again according to And&, 339: 'I1 n'Rait pas non
       plus d'autre pigeon ou colombe que blanc.'
          16. Daphne fleeing Apollo is compared to both the dove and the lamb, 1.505-6. Arethusa,
       fleeing the river Alphaeus, is also compared to the dove (V.605-6) and the lamb (V.626).
          17. On the use of words denoting 'darkness' or 'blackness' (niger, ater) for the redness of
       blood see note 1 above. The color o f the mulberry is defined in the Oxford dictionary as 'red-
       dish black'. In the Pyramus and Thisbe story Ovid on the superficial level emphasizes the
       blackness of the fruit for a very obvious reason: it stands for mourning and death:
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                           RED AND WHITE IN OVID'S METAMORPHOSES
                     signa tene caedis pullosque et luctibus aptos
                     semper habe fetusj gemini monimenta cruoris.                       (IV. 150-51)
                     Retain the signs of death and always keep your fruit
                     Dark and suitable for mourning, a memorial of coupled bloodshed.
                     vota tamen tetigere deos, tetigere parentes:
                     narncolor in pomo est, ubi permaturuit, ater . . .                 (IV. 164-65)
                     And her prayers moved the gods, they moved her parents;
                     For the fruit, when ripened, is black in color . . .
        Permaturuif is significant because the mulberry becomes very dark only when very ripe. When
        unripe it is white, when almost ripe it is a definite shade of red. Ovid clearly depends upon the
        reader's knowledge of this process. Pyramus' blood makes the berries red (purpureo, 127), this
        color darkening to a funereal black (ater, 165) by the time their bodies are placed upon the pyre
        (166). On the symbolic level it is the reddish aspect that is most important.
           18. When Daphne is compared to a lamb o r a deer, Apollo is the wolf or the lion (1.505).
           19. X.681-707; cf. esp. 704. For the particular association of the lioness with Inanna/Istar/
        Aphrodite, see. T. T. Duke, 'Ovid's Pyramus and Thisbe', CJ 66 (1971), 323-24.
          20. Segal (n. 10 above), 50, includes the veil among the other, more overt, sexual symbols
        such as the sword and the gush o f Pyramus' blood. The torn veil also represents the violation
        of a personal boundary, and as such has more than erotic significance.
          21. Pallor frequently follows the blush of shame. It is a response of fear and grief, ex-
        perienced by the beloved who is on the point of being captured (Daphne, 1.543: viribus
        abncmptis expalluit ora, 'her strength exhausted, she grew pale in the face') and by the lover
        recently committed to a shameful course. When Medea first conceives her passion for Jason,
        she blushes (VII.78: erubuere genae). Later, when she sees him surrounded by the sown men
        and is confirmed in her love, she grows pale (VII.136): palluit et subito sine sanguine frigida
       sedit, 'she grew pale and, suddenly bloodless, cold, sat down'). When Byblis first imagines
        making love to her brother, she blushes (IX.471: erubuit), but when she is rejected by him and
        desperate, she grows pale (IX.581: pallesaudita, Bybli, repulsa, 'you grow pale, Byblis, when
        you hear you are rejected'). Myrrha, on the threshold of her father's bedchamber, also pales:
       fugitque/et color et sangub ('both color and blood depart', X.458-59). In a non-erotic context,
       perhaps the best example of the two states of mind represented by blush and pallor occurs in
       Althaea as she contemplates the death of her son: saepe metu sceleris pallebant ora
       futuri:/saepesuum fervens oculis dabat ira ruborem ('often her face grew pale with fear of the
        future crime; often raging anger would lend its own redness to her eyes', VIII.465-66). In an
       erotic context, the lover who grows pale does so in the face of death, his own (Narcissus,
        111.491) o r his beloved's (Apollo, X. 185), as well as in the face of his intended crime (Myrrha).
       Pallor is the significant mark of the Underworld (1V.436: pallor hiemsque tenent late loca sen-
        fa, 'pallor and cold occupy the rugged tract'), where it is also associated with cold as in the
       above example of Medea. Pallor is the sign as well of Invidia (11.775: pallor in ore sedet, 'a
       pallor settles on her face') and of Hunger (VIII.801: pallor in ore). Invidia and Hunger are
       manifestations of cupido, which leads lovers like Pyramus and Thisbe to seek total possession
       of one another and which instead often results in death.
          22. eiaculatur. For the erotic associations o f this word, see P. Pierrugues, Glossarium
       Eroticum Linguae Latinae (Paris, 1826; reprinted Amsterdam, 1965), 190.
          23. Fallere is a word commonly used for the deception of the elegiac coniunv or his agents,
       the custodes. Cf. in this tale IV.85 (fallere custodes, 'deceive the guardians') and 94 (fallitque
       suos, 'and deceives her own').
          24. We should again note that the mulberries are dark when thoroughly ripe (IV.165: ubi
       permaturuit), like the ripe fruit of the lover's passion (see also note 17 above). Compare the
       ripening apples in the simile for Narcissus (111.483ff .).
          25. Brooks Otis, Ovid as an Epic Poet (Cambridge, 1970), 215: 'Pyramus and Thisbe were
       only the youthful victims of an accident.'
          26. Segal (n. 10 above), 49-50, also sees the tale as one which 'involves the confrontation
       between purity and violence and the loss of innocence'. He sees loss of innocence, however, as
       the inevitable sacrifice made upon crossing the boundary from childhood to maturity, and
       points to the maturation of the mulberries as the emblem of this initiation. Again, while I can-
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                                    CATHERINE CAMPBELL RHORER
       not disagree with this interpretation, 1 wish to shift the emphasis. The boundary which
       Pyramus and Thisbe attempt to cross, with such disastrous consequences, is not the threshold
       of adulthood, but the boundary of the self. Throughout the Metamorphoses, it is not just the
       young and innocent who are destroyed by the erotic obliteration of personal boundaries, but
       all those who are overtaken by a similar passion. Refined love in Ovid is neither cool white nor
       fiery red. Rather it is the thoroughly urbane and civilized experience of the elegiac lover, who
       cultivates boundaries and obstacles and maintains at all cost his self-integrity.
          27. I cannot help but compare the crack in the wall to the little opening in the door through
       which the lover of Am. 1.6 hopes to slip his body, made thin by his long love. Throughout the
       elegies, Ovid emphasizes the beneficial aspects of boundaries like the door and obstacles like
       the coniunx. See especially elegies 11.19 and 111.4. He is also very clear about the importance of
       some judicious deception between lovers, as in 1.4 and 111.14. The proper goal of the Ovidian
       lover is not total possession or even mutual possession, but mutual disengagement, a will-
       ingness to submit to the fantasy of love so as to be spared its real torment.
          28. Otis (n. 25 above), 155: 'Though the metamorphosis is slight and inconsequential, the
       theme of mutual love (love too strong to endure separation) is fully developed.' This is precise-
       ly the sort of love which Ovid seems to find so dangerous, as witnessed by the pathos of the tale
       of Ceyx and Alcyone. He himself recommends a little separation now and then (Ars. Amat.
       II.349ff.) and demonstrates how love can not only be made t o endure separation but even to
       profit by it (Am. 11.12).
          29. I would like to acknowledge assistance in the completion of this paper from a great
       many sources. An anonymous reader for Ramus provided sensitive and copious suggestions
       which improved the tone and argument of the paper. Other readers contributing advice were
       Eleanor Winsor Leach, Marylin Arthur, Roger Hornsby, Archibald Allen, Charles Segal, and
       David Konstan, without whose help this effort could never have reached publication. I of
       course accept responsibility for all errors of commission o r distortion.
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