Students in Tom Sienkewicz' CLAS230
Classical Mythology in Art class recreated the sculptural group
described at right by Apuleius in Book 2 of his Metamorphoses.
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From Apuleius’ Metamorphoses. The Golden
Ass. Translated by translated by E. J. Kenney (Oxford, 1998). This
excerpt from Book 2, chapter 4 is an ecphrasis of a a sculptural group
depicting Diana and Actaeon. There was a magnificent entrance-hall, with
a column at each of its four corners supporting a statue of Victory.
Each of these, wings outspread, appeared to hover without alighting on
the unstable foothold of her rolling ball, which her dewy feet just
brushed, not standing fixed but seemingly poised in flight. In the exact
centre of the hall stood a Diana in Parian marble. It was a brilliant
tour de force of sculpture: as one entered the room the goddess with
flowing tunic seemed to be coming straight at one in her swift course,
inspiring awe by her powerful godhead. To right and left she was flanked
by hounds, also of marble. Their look was menacing, their ears pricked,
their nostrils flaring, their jaws ravening, and if any barking were
heard nearby, you'd think it came from those stony throats. The crowning
achievement of this accomplished sculptor's craftsmanship was that,
while the hind feet of the dogs were braced firmly against the ground as
they sprang forward, their front feet seemed to be running. Behind the
goddess there arose a rock in the shape of a grotto, with moss and grass
and leaves and branches, vines here and shrubs there, a whole plantation
in stone. From inside the grotto the statue was reflected back in all
its brilliance by the polished marble. Round the edge of the rock there
hung grapes and other fruits so cunningly modeled that art had outdone
nature in making them seem real. One would think that when at the time
of the vintage the breath of autumn had ripened and coloured them, they
could be picked and eaten; and when one stooped to look at the spring
which gushed out at the goddess's feet and rippled away in a gentle
stream, one would think the hanging clusters were not only real in every
other way but were actually moving. From the middle of the foliage there
peered out a figure of Actaeon in stone with his prurient gaze fixed on
the goddess, the transformation into a stag already begun; one could see
both him and his reflection in the spring as he waited for Diana to take
her bath. |