The Poetry of Theocritus by Theocritus of Syracuse

First published: The Bucolics; the Epics

Type of work: Poetry

Critical Evaluation:

Theocritus is the originator of pastoral poetry, that form which displays to us the labors, the songs and loves, and the sufferings of more or less simple shepherds. In Western literature it is a poetic tradition that is as deathless as it is—or has become—conventional. When Marie Antoinette and her court played at the simple life in the village near Le Petit Trianon, they were reviving modes of sensibility to which the Hellenistic poet first gave expression. Indeed, it would be possible to say that no society can produce pastoral poetry until it has become keenly aware that it is non-pastoral in actuality, old and sophisticated and worldly.

Although Theocritus composed forms of poetry that fit other classifications, he is best remembered for his idealization in verse of the simple, rustic life of the Sicilian shepherds. In his idyls he tells us of herdsmen and their loves; he writes of country singing contests on a mountain hillside, for which the prize is a new set of pipes; he surrounds the occasions his poems celebrate with pastoral grace and occasional rural crudity. Among the best of his pastoral poems is the elegy THYRSIS, a lament for Daphnis, traditional hero of shepherds.

It is highly likely that Theocritus’ audiences included very few real country people. The bare facts of his life suggest that his ambition led him to courts and not to the country hillsides or gatherings of his verse. He was probably born in Syracuse in Sicily, and some of his poems were written in Alexandria, at the Egyptian court of Ptolemy Philadelphus; fulsome poems of praise to this ruler as well as to Hiero II of Syracuse suggest that Theocritus knew how to finger courtly instruments as well as oaten pipes. His tales of shepherds—their bucolic existence, simple fare, unsophisticated hopes in love, and rude sports and games—were never destined for country ears at all. Rather might a ruler like Ptolemy Philadelphus, after he had had his considerable fill of praise from the poet, command a song about Daphnis or Theugenus, drawn from Theocritus’ recollections of his native Sicilian countryside.

Theocritus’ poetry, in short, is one of the chief representatives of the Alexandrian period of Greek poetry. This was a time generally regarded as an era when the direct, authentic utterances of poets like Homer, Hesiod, and Sappho had given away to more self-conscious garlands of verses woven self-consciously and with as much variety as possible, a time when the idyl, the epigram, and the mime were the style. It was a time, too, when verses were first written and then polished and a poet like Theocritus was as aware of the art of poetry as he was of what themes he was expressing.

It is significant that Theocritus often falls back on the traditional stories of the Greek-speaking peoples. He tells us of Cyclops in love with the sea-nymph Galatea—but Cyclops is no longer Homer’s monster but a not entirely unattractive swain “sighing like a furnace” for a cold maiden. Or Theocritus takes incidents in the life of Hercules and uses the ancient web of the heroic tale as an occasion for elegant embroidery. We are less struck by the tale of Hercules strangling serpents that attack him in his cradle than we are by the deftness with which the poet elaborates the old brief tale; the gradual approach of the serpents is very gradual indeed, the confusion of the parents is very pretty, and the final triumph of the muscular infant is a foregone conclusion.

Theocritus is perhaps most brilliant and most himself in two fairly long poems that are far from the sloping fields of Sicily and which reflect the rather fetid, cynical, and jaded life of a city like Alexandria. “Love Magic,” or the “Spell,” tells of a young woman, Simaetha, and her servant working an incantation to bring back a vigorous young lover who has only recently gone elsewhere. The mixture of sick desire and sicker hatred in the girl’s song is remote from the simple lays of shepherds and herdsmen.

Less morbid and certainly wonderfully charming and revealing of busy street life of a Hellenistic city, is “The Women at the Festival of Adonis.” In this mime, a brief dramatic sketch not unlike some of the more extended efforts of Menander, two women, Gorgon and Praxinoa, chatter with each other and re-create a world for us. They meet, they plan an outing, comment on each other’s costumes, and arrange for their households to be cared for in their absence. Then they go out and walk through the hot, jostling streets; out of their mouths tumble phrases that allow us to see the city streets and their abundant distractions as clearly as if we were there. Then the women, never losing breath or dropping a syllable, come to the palace of Ptolemy, where a famous young woman will sing the lament for Adonis, the slain god. The two women attend the religious rites.

All this should indicate that Theocritus had a considerable range. But his country poems, now elegant, now crude in their language, but always fresh and vigorous, have left a greater mark on the literature of the Western world. Vergil’s celebration of the simple life (so far from luxury and the cynicism of Augustan Rome) have for twenty centuries implored readers to go back to a Sabine farm; and Vergil took his cue from Theocritus. From Vergil, if not from Theocritus, many poets have learned to hope for escape from courts and cities. Spenser, Milton, Keats, Tennyson, Arnold are on the long list of English poets who have used the pastoral convention of Theocritus for their special purposes, often weaving into the plaintive rural song of pipe and voice political and religious themes that no shepherd—or even Theocritus for that matter—ever dreamed of.