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Maradeo 1

Timothy Maradeo

Professor Hanses

Latin 402 - Catullus

25 April 2020

Passer Lesbiae: The Fragmented Intentions of Catullus

I ask a question, one that has rarely been asked of Lesbia: Does she laugh at sex jokes? In

the aftermath of the sexual revolution, classicists in the modern era have moved their view

toward how women of the past dealt with the sexual stereotypes of their time. The common

assumption that women, especially those qualified to be wives of noblemen, were not to enjoy

sexual acts, or to partake in them merely for pleasure, has been consciously expunged from our

society in the name of feminism and equality. Although this may allow one to view Lesbia as the

initiator of sexual encounters with Catullus, it has not sufficiently freed us to see the full effect of

what a sexually in-touch woman would look like. The feminist would take all positive qualities

of a woman’s sexual nature, dispensing with the seemingly embarrassing parts, simply out of

humanity’s involuntary nature to praise itself, implicit self-bias. To accept such a simple humor

in Lesbia’s character would dash any hope of preserving the “glorified woman of poetic

antiquity” by making her too human. Regardless of our best efforts to remove stereotypes of the

past, they cling to us, changing form if they must in order to cloud our interpretative vision. The

“chaste woman” may not yet be fully taken away from Lesbia’s character, and it may be the sole

reason why classicist of the twenty-first century struggle to understand the meaning of the

Passer in two of Catullus’s most heavily debated poems.


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In order to arrive at why Lesbia’s sense of humor, in so far that she enjoys sex jokes, is

central to understanding the context of certain Catullan poetry, we must first reveal why the

sparrow may neither be interpreted strictly appealing to realism, as a pet bird, nor

metaphorically, as a phallic symbol. A pathway to accepting both interpretations simultaneously

would then necessitate the presence of a divided self within Catullus’s Lesbia-paradigm, positing

more than one intention of the author. Through this three-step process, we may see the manner in

which c. 2 and 3 attempt to cheer up Lesbia through inappropriate humor while, with upmost

subtlety, expressing Catullus’s desire to portray Lesbia as a motherly figure.

The Passer as Both Bird and Penis:

The most obvious reason that classicists have struggle to understand the central meaning

of the Passer is its highly ambiguous and often illegitimate actions. If one favor’s its sexual

connotation, one would have trouble making sense of Catullus’s particular use of finite verbs

(3.6-7):

nam mellitus erat suamque norat


ipsam tam bene quam puella matrem;
For it was sweet and it knew its own woman
as well as a girl knows her mother.
A phallus capable of performing a verb of “knowing” is hardly a proud invention of neoteric

poetry. Furthermore, it would be both obscene and illogical to compare one’s association with a

penis, or even that of a sexual partner, with a mother and daughter relationship, especially if

Lesbia were to read the poem – imagine her disgust! A penis capable of “chirping” (pipiabat,

Catull. 3.10) would certainly be the talk of the town. Ultimately, these actions are so specific to

pet birds that one must reach unrealistically far in order to find a metaphorical significance for
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them. In this instance, one has no hidden cue to believe, based off the Latin text, that this passer

is anything other than a bird.

An argument such as that stated above will sway a collection of readers to see all of the

passer’s qualities as bird-like. This a moment of crucial mistake in classical studies, because it is

founded on the assumption that Catullus has only one interpretation in mind. If the passer poems

are meant to be about a bird, why would Catullus make such a pet bird have unrealistic qualities

in addition to its aforementioned particularly believable actions? The bird acts, strangely enough,

not very predictable for a small, delicate creature (Catull. 2.2-4):

qui-cum ludere, quem in sinu tenere,


cui primum digitum dare appetenti et
acris solet incitare morsus,

with whom she is accustomed to play, whom she is accustomed to hold in her fold,
to whom, biting, she is accustomed to give her fingertip, and
she is accustomed to incite sharp bites.
It is not likely that one would hold a passer, or any small bird for that matter, to their chest in

any sort of confining way (Hooper 1985 2). The image, then, is unnatural for a literalist

interpretation. Likewise, the bird as one which does not “move himself from her lap” (nec sese a

gremio illius movebat, Catull. 3.8) would be more fitting for a cat than for a bird. Seeing

Catullus’s passer as a phallic symbol, however, does satisfy a common theme in Catullan poetry

where multiple layers of interpretation are meant to be at hand for the audience.

To further our trouble, much of the contextual examples we have from Greek and Roman

culture seem to contradict themselves when put in conversation with Catullus. For example, a

passer was never a common pet in antiquity (Hooper 1985, 1), yet multiple examples of sorrow

for a pet’s death exist in Hellenistic poetry - elegies for grasshoppers, cicadas, doves, thrushes,
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ferrets, horses, and even ants (Pomeroy 2003, 51). Catullus’s poems are the first we have

focusing on a passer in particular, but references to passer within the context of sexual imagery

exist; sparrows carry Aphrodite’s chariot in the work of Sappho 191, 9-10 (Hooper 1985, 2).

More confusion arrives still in c. 3 where Catullus describes, very dramatically, the death

of the passer. Taken overly literal on the sexual end, one would have to assume that Catullus

faced some sort of erectile dysfunction during his relationship with Lesbia. On the other side of

things, the bird quite simply could have died and ceased to be a source of amusement for Lesbia.

In order to get around this problem, it has been suggested that c. 3 was written prior to c. 2, thus

removing a clear series of events in which the passer is at one moment alive and helping Lesbia

through her pre-existent sorrow, the other moment dead and useless to her (Pomeroy 2003, 51).

This may then get us around literalistic interpretation by putting the passer in the position of the

cause of Lesbia’s sorrow, rather than the antidote. Thus, the position of solaciolum sui doloris

(solace for her pain, Catull. 2.7). is opened for Catullus to fulfill. This position of the sparrow as

the cause of Lesbia’s grief is consistent with two pieces of evidence: in Egyptian hieroglyphs, a

sparrow is represented as the determinative “little, evil, bad” (Hooper 1985, 2); there is a

discrepancy in Catullus’s address of who is to be blamed for Lesbia’s “red eyes” (3.15-18):

tam bellum mihi passerem abstulistis.


o factum male! o miselle passer!
tua nunc opera meae puellae flendo
turgiduli rubent ocelli.

You all have carried away such a beautiful sparrow from me.
Oh horrible deed! Oh poor sparrow!
Now because of your work the swollen eyes
of my girl are red from crying.
Maradeo 5

The plurality of abstulistis in the second person is not carried over with tua opera suggesting that

a singular actor, namely the miselle passer mentioned between the shift, is the cause of the

rubent ocelli. One would expect vestra in place of tua if the aforementioned malae Tenebrae

(“bad darknesses,” Catull. 3.13) were the causes of Lesbia’s grief.

Upon pondering these arguments, one notices that both the bird and penis arguments are

backed by textual evidence, and that, regardless of which one is subscribed to, Catullus’s reason

for portraying the passer as a source of sadness is yet unanswered. However, drawing these three

ideas together – the bird, penis, and passer as a cause of grief – we may begin to unpack

Catullus’s intention. As mentioned earlier, the position of solaciolum sui doloris (solace for her

pain, Catull. 2.7) remains open for Catullus to act within. In what way does he fulfil this role?

The Divided Self Within Catullus’s Poetry

In a strange turn of events, we have a hint, as to why Catullus’s passer poetry contains

such ambiguity, hidden within c. 8 that is often overlooked in translation due to its unique visual

expression which is specifically shown in the original Latin text. The poem centers around a call

by Catullus that is yet also for Catullus to end his desire to be with Lesbia, apparently because of

some psychological harm she has incurred on their relationship. Because of its painful nature,

painful in so far that Catullus expresses a wish that he cannot fulfill, much of the workings of the

author’s inner self are revealed to the reader.

The craft behind this poem is the way in which Catullus expresses his self in three

different ways. First, in lines 1 and 2, he uses the vocative case, accompanied by a 2nd person

singular finite verb, to create a situation in which the narrator admonishes Catullus (8):
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Miser Catulle, desinas ineptire,


et quod vides perisse perditum ducas.

Miserable Catullus, stop being absurd,


and consider finished what you see to have finished.
The effect is that Catullus as narrator, a version of Catullus that is responsible and in control,

commands the Catullus that is ineptire in a setup that expresses a divided self. Although it is

common to use nobis, the plural “we,” to express the idea of “me” in antiquity, line 5 is one of

the few places where its number may be justified on account of the multiplicity of Catulluses

present in poem 8. The division continues in line 12 where Catullus now occupies the 3rd person

singular as well:

vale, puella. iam Catullus obdurat,

Goodbye, girl. now Catullus is strong


Overall, we have three Catullus-persons living within this poem, each one representing a

different aspect of Catullus’s self: the responsible one, the one who pathetically follows after

past love, and the one who now obdurat. The switch to 3rd person has the additional effect of an

“appeal to facts” which ironically, and as likely was Catullus’s intention, causes the reader to not

believe he is sincerely expressing reality. We are made to question Catullus by his will just as he

is made to question himself by Lesbia’s doing. The separation is necessary in order to save face

because there is, implicit in Catullus’s weakness to Lesbia, a reversal of gender norms in which

Catullus is the one lamenting the lover’s absence when, traditionally, that is the woman’s role

(Greene 1995, 81).

The division of the poem continues along timelines as well, at some points even using the

same finite verb in the same context with different tenses (Catull, 8.5):
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amata nobis quantum amabitur nulla;


loved by us as much as none will be loved.
This tense change shifts between an actualized event and a future potential without drawing upon

the subjunctive mood. Perhaps this is meant to key us in on the conflicting timelines of the poem:

that which has happened in the relationship, that which Catullus is doing, and that which will

happen as a result of Lesbia’s actions – the rhetorical questions asked of Lesbia at the end

(Catull, 8.16-18):

quis nunc te adibit? cui videberis bella?


quem nunc amabis? cuius esse diceris?
quem basiabis? cui labella mordebis?

Who now will go to you? to whom will you seem beautiful?


whom will you love now? whose will you be said to be?
whom will you kiss? whose lip will you bite?
It is likely even here that, as a result of the divided self, while repeating somewhat disdainful

questions to Lesbia, he is also worried about her future, which is questioned in an almost anxious

way. And so, the poem encompasses a sense of the imperative, declarative, and interrogative just

as timelines and persons are actively being shifted back and forth.

The separation of Catullus’s self, or, as psychologists say, one’s ego, suggests that some

of Catullus’s poetry, especially that which is addressed to Lesbia, was not written by one man

alone, but by many personalities and aspects of the same man. To put it another way, multiple

facets of Catullus’s consciousness wished to leave their mark on the poems he was writing. The

resulting effect is that multiple intentions exist in many of the poems – a variety within one

author’s point of view. Poem 8 clearly proves such an idea, and it is more evident than most

because of its transition of these intentions onto different pronouns in the Latin language.

However, a similar structure has occurred in the passer poems that, although rather hidden,

nonetheless expresses itself in our conflict between the phallic and the realistic interpretations.
Maradeo 8

Bringing this divided structure into the debate raging over c. 2 and 3, we are able to better

understand what Catullus’s intentions were in providing an ambiguous, seemingly

uninterpretable-in-its-entirety sort of poem.

Catullus’s Intentions: Catering to Lesbia’s View and His Own

Catullus’s intentions may only be understood in c. 2 and 3 in so far as they are

understood in the rest of his life’s work. There are two main goals Catullus is working with in

these poems, both of which arise from the divided self; one of those can be understood through

careful study of c. 2, the other through studying Catullus’s view toward marriage. Upon reading

the first of his passer poems, which, as mentioned earlier may have been written after c. 3, one

realizes that a central theme of the poem is Lesbia’s grief. It, therefore, is unexpected when

Catullus mentions the words lubet and iocari, since they appear to drastically change the overall

mood of the direction taken in the piece (Catull, 2.5-8).

cum desiderio meo nitenti


carum nescioquid lubet iocari,
et solaciolum sui doloris,
credo, ut tum gravis acquiescat ardor:

when to my shining desire


it is pleasing to joke something dear
and a little solace for her pain,
I think, in order that her heavy passion calms
When carefully unpacked, these lines contain half of Catullus’s overall main goal in writing c. 2

and 3. The presence of iocari may carefully hint that this poem contains a sort of joke contained

within allegory that exists ut (“for the purpose of”) calming her gravis ardor (“heavy passion”).

We can make sense of this clause, then. as a way of explaining to the intended reader – Lesbia –

that there is another level of meaning she is to look out for. Keeping in mind this occurs right
Maradeo 9

after the verbs ludere, tenere, and appetenti, all in reference to the passer as a bird, we already

have both classic interpretations expressed – the bird and the allegory.

Continuing onward, we have the addition of c. 2b, what has in the past been taken as a

side-reference to Greek mythology. Could it be that these few lines contain more significance

than they have recently been attributed (Catull, 2.9-10 and Catull. 2b.1-3)?

tecum ludere sic-ut ipsa (utinam) possem


et tristis animi levare curas!
Tam gratum est mihi quam ferunt puellae
pernici aureolum fuisse malum,
quod zonam soluit diu ligatam.

(If only) I could play with you yourself thus


and lift the sad cares of the spirit!
It is as pleasing to me as they say that to the swift girl
the golden apple was,
which loosened the belt having been tied for a long time.
Taken together and directly after Catullus’s address of the passer, Catullus seems to be

expressing the wish that, if he could play with the passer in the same way that Lesbia does, he

would lift sad care from his spirit. If we consider the passer to be his phallus in this situation, he

is making a joke that he wishes masturbation was as pleasant as sex with Lesbia. However, this

proposition becomes more sophisticated with the addition of the story of Atalanta and

Hippomenes. One would have to suggest that Catullus wishes to change the meaning of Atalanta

and Hippomenes by insinuating that she really did wish to be married to Hippomenes; thus, his

masturbation would be just as pleasing, but he would not admit it just as Atalanta would not

admit her true intentions. This now appears to be the type of multi-layered sexual joke a person

such as Lesbia would enjoy. Considering Catullus notes her grief earlier, it may be that this last

part was devised as an attempt to cheer her up with a self-deprecating joke. The passer poems
Maradeo 10

may then come as a gift to Lesbia that would make her laugh during her moment of sadness,

sadness potentially caused by the death of a pet bird. Decisions to print c. 2b as a second poem

come from failure to see Lesbia’s potential enjoyment of a sexual joke or innuendo filled poetry

– a failure in clear vision that is no doubt caused by the lingering effects of stereotyping women.

The passer genre would not yet be complete in only understanding the joking nature of

the poems. There is also contained within them a serious nature, the second half of Catullus’s

divided self. Catullus was looking out for the girl he cared about by trying to lighten her mood;

however, he also wished to express what would lighten his mood, his greatest desire from Lesbia

– marriage. It is no secret, as seen in c. 72, that Catullus expected a lasting relationship with

Lesbia (Catull, 72.3-4):

dilexi tum te non tantum ut vulgus amicam,


sed pater ut gnatos diligit et generos.

I loved you at the time not so much as the common folk love a female friend
but as a father loves his children and sons-in-law.
Although in this point of the relationship things have gone downhill, it is evident that Catullus

once viewed Lesbia in the context of a family – comparing his love to her with that of a family

bond (father and children). In the time of the Late Republic, terms such as amica and uxor both

would have obtained superficial meaning, and, so, Catullus needed another way to express

serious commitment (Venson 1989, 50). The inclusion of generos additionally invokes the legal

contract of marriage. Additionally, as pointed out by Vinson, Catullus’s particular grief for

Lesbia’s infidelity further proves that the type of relationship Catullus hoped for was not merely

sexual, but social: “Permanence and fidelity, insofar as they are attributes of the ideal Roman

marriage, serve as guarantees, not of personal happiness, but of social order” (Vinson 1989, 49).

Vinson argues that political instability in marriage at the time further reinforces Catullus’s
Maradeo 11

position as contrary to new social norms; Catullus would be a bit of a conservative in marriage

(Vinson 1989, 49). Finally, the supposed promise spoken by Lesbia, as recorded in c. 109, seems

to suggest marriage was very heavily on the mind for Catullus (Catull, 109.1-2,6):

Iucundum, mea vita, mihi proponis amorem


hunc nostrum inter nos perpetuumque fore.
…aeternum hoc sanctae foedus amicitiae.

My life, you propose that this love of ours


will be eternal and pleasant among us
…this eternal bond of sacred friendship.
In the medieval period, the term foedus even comes to be used as a religious covenant. One

cannot deny that Catullus’s inclusion of familial terminology points toward a marriage-centric

view of Lesbia. It may even be the case that his self-feminization further depicts the difficulty by

which he would accept a role as paterfamilias, considering a marriage with Lesbia is highly

unlikely at best.

The Catullan marriage plays a hand in our last half of interpretation for c. 2 and 3, as we

see the possibility arise that the passer could be an analogy for a child. This is consistent with

general themes, such as that of her receiving joy from it and it’s tendency to sit on her lap. We

also may return to a much more direct connection between the passer and a mother-daughter

relationship (Catull 3.6-7):

nam mellitus erat suamque no(ve)rat


ipsam tam bene quam puella matrem;

for it was sweet and knew its own


woman as well as a girl knows her mother.
Pipiabat is the particular verb used to describe a child’s innocent noises in antiquity, and even

Cicero applies the term mellitus to his own son (Vinson 1989, 52). I am not suggesting that the

passer is, in of itself, a symbol for a child, but, in accordance with Catullus’s multi-layered
Maradeo 12

poetry, it is possible that the poem was meant to function on the level of familial relationships at

least in part.

Overall, the deadlock between interpreting the passer either realistically as a bird or

metaphorically as a phallus may be overcome by neither accepting nor declining either

interpretation, but digging into Catullus’s divided self to see the way in which he packs different

intentions into the same poems, namely the desire to bring Lesbia joy through sophisticated

sexual innuendoes while additionally expressing his hope for marriage. To create such an

interpretation of c. 2 and 3 is difficult and requires much work; for this reason, diverse and

emotionally involved debates rage around the issue. Perhaps, the greatest mistake, and the one

thing that may have thrown us off from this interpretation, was the assumption that women

would not enjoy a sexual joke much like how Catullus does. Had this idea been ready-at-hand, it

would have been easier to see the strategic maneuvers Catullus is making in the passer poems,

whether he makes them consciously or unconsciously as his divided self comes together to

produce a unique piece of Roman art and Latin linguistic ingenuity.


Maradeo 13

Works Cited

All English Translations Are My Own

Catullus Latin Editions from Garrison

Garrison, Daniel. The Student’s Catullus Fourth Edition. University of Oaklahoma Press:

Norman. 2012.

Greene, Ellen. "The Catullan Ego: Fragmentation and the Erotic Self." The American Journal of

Philology 116, no. 1 (1995): 77-93. Accessed April 25, 2020. doi:10.2307/295503.

Hooper, Richard W. "In Defence of Catullus' Dirty Sparrow." Greece & Rome 32, no. 2 (1985):

162-78. Accessed April 25, 2020. www.jstor.org/stable/642440.

POMEROY, ARTHUR J. "HEAVY PETTING IN CATULLUS." Arethusa 36, no. 1 (2003): 49-

60. Accessed April 25, 2020. www.jstor.org/stable/44578804.

Vinson, Martha P. "And Baby Makes Three? Parental Imagery in the Lesbia Poems of Catullus."

The Classical Journal 85, no. 1 (1989): 47-53. Accessed April 25, 2020.

www.jstor.org/stable/3297486.

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