(Un)sympathetic Magic: A Study of Heroides 13

Abstract

In the Ovidian Corpus, reading and writing are dangerous if not done with great care. Ovid's Laodamia, both hypersensitive and unlucky, is no exception: she shows herself to be an uncritical reader who misconstrues language in a fatal way. She is also a writer, and her carmen (Her. 13) is the "wrong" kind of carmen. The letter that she writes to her husband, Protesilaus, is intended to encourage him to return from the Trojan War, but (along with some of her other behaviors) it precipitates a chain of events that is fraught with supernatural, perhaps even deadly, coincidences. Laodamia's suspicious nature leads her to create by her very words the situation she most fears. She is, ironically, a superstitious woman in a story full of events that serve only to increase her superstition. 1 Yet she herself contributes to these circumstances, most notably by creating a statue of her still-living husband and worshiping it. Because she loses control over her text, the multiple representations that Laodamia creates prove catastrophic for both Protesilaus and herself. This essay explores the literary use of erotic magic imagery in Ovid's Heroides 13 and suggests that the ambiguity of the word carmen ("poem, magic spell") seduces its protagonist into unwittingly replicating (and perhaps even causing) the death of her husband. The key to unlocking the magical referents of the poem lies in the wax imago 2 of Protesilaus and in Laodamia's account of her behavior during his absence. Commentators and critics have often marked her actions as peculiar, but few offer convincing interpretations, and the imago has received infrequent treatment. Most discussions of the poem to date treat isolated actions of Laodamia and therefore fail to make sense of the poem as a whole. [End Page 61] Sources and Background In Heroides 13, the newly wed Laodamia is writing to her husband Protesilaus, commander of the Thessalian ships sent to Troy. 3 Laodamia thinks that the ships are still at Aulis, awaiting a favorable wind, and Ovid offers no reason to doubt this, despite the fact that his heroines are often "incorrect" about specific details of their stories. 4 Laodamia worries about her husband's safety at war, repeatedly urging him to take care of himself and reminding him that her life depends on his. Readers with mythological and etymological knowledge know that she worries with good reason, because, as Laodamia herself notes, an oracle had stated that the first Greek to set foot on Trojan soil would die first (93-94). As a result none of the Greeks was willing to disembark once the ships arrived. 5 Protesilaus scoffed at the oracle and leapt from his boat; he was accordingly the first to die, and a hero cult was established for him in the Chersonesus, near his tomb. In their versions of the story, Eustathius and Hyginus concur with these elements of the tale but disagree on Laodamia's subsequent fate. According to Eustathius, the deceased Protesilaus (at either his request or Laodamia's) 6 is granted permission by Hades to appear to his wife and tell her of his fate. 7 When she hears the news, she kills herself. Eustathius says that she runs a sword through herself; other sources give different accounts of the means she chose, ranging from the sword and [End Page 62] hanging to immolation. 8 Hyginus tells the story twice: first, a brief mention of Laodamia's death, and then a more detailed version (secs. 103-4). The elaborated version serves our analysis better. In it, Laodamia creates a statue of him to fondle after she hears of Protesilaus' death. 9 A servant sees her "Protesilai simulacrum tenentem atque osculantem" ("holding and kissing the image of Protesilaus"), assumes she is committing adultery, and summons her father, who discovers the truth. He orders the statue to be burnt and Laodamia, "dolorem non sustinens" ("not able to bear the pain"), throws herself onto the pyre and...