1. At ego tibi sermone isto Milesio varias fabulas conseram (‘But I shall weave you a collection of stories in that Milesian style’, 1.1). Apuleius loves to place red herrings in the path of the reader; the whole of the preface constitutes an excellent example of this.

2. Smith, W. S., ‘The narrative voice in Apuleius’ Metamorphoses’, TAPA 103 (1972), 528.Google Scholar

3. Festugière, A. J., Personal Religion among the Greeks (Berkeley, 1960), 77.Google Scholar

4. Walsh, P. G., The Roman Novel (Cambridge, 1970), 177.Google Scholar

5. Quid latrones, quid ferae, quid servitium, quid asperrimorum itinerum ambages reciprocae, quid metus mortis cotidianae nefariae Fortunae profuit? (‘What did execrable Fortuna gain by submitting you to bandits, wild beasts, slavery, the uncertainties of harsh journeys back and forth, and the daily terror of death?’)

6. Cf. below 66ff.

7. For Typhon (= Set) as the ‘irrational and disordered element’ in Isiac theology, see Walsh (above n. 4) 183 and Plutarch’s treatise On his and Osiris 369a: ‘Every-thing harmful and destructive that nature contains … is to be set down as a part of Typhon.’ (Tr. Babbitt.)

8. See e.g. the collection of articles in Amor und Psyche, ed. Binder, G. & Merkelbach, R. (Darmstadt, 1968Google Scholar), and Wright, J. R. G., ‘Folk-tale and literary technique in Cupid and Psyche’, CQ n.s. 21 (1971), 273–284.CrossRefGoogle Scholar

9. See Walsh (above n. 4) 190–193, and Tatum, James, ‘The tales in Apuleius’ Metamorphoses’, TAPA 100 (1969), 508–514.Google Scholar

10. Which also involves going down to the underworld: Accessi confinium mortis et calcato Proserpinae limine … (‘I came to the border of death and having set foot on Proserpina’s threshold …’ 11.23).

11. The only tale which might be adduced in opposition to this view is that of Thelyphron (2.21–30). There the truth is revealed by the intervention of the Egyptian seer (Aegyptius propheta, 2.28) Zatchlas, and this is said to foreshadow the Egyptian resolution of the novel in Book 11. And so it does, but in a very limited way. The intervention only serves to bring the widow to justice. It does nothing for Thelyphron himself; he discovers his mutilation and suffers the separation from home typical of those who are affected by witchcraft (see below 70–71 and n. 59). No ‘salvation’ is offered to anyone.

12. See Walsh (above n. 4) 199ff.

13. So e.g. Callirhoe in Chariton’s romance Chaereas and Callirhoe 1.14.1.

14. After Rackham.

15. Op. cit. (above n. 9) 514.

16. So e.g. 1.8, 2.10, 2.17, 4.27, 7.21, 10.20. The best discussion of voluptas in Apuleius that I have encountered is that of Ebel, H., ‘Apuleius and the present time’, Arethusa 3 (1970), 169–172Google Scholar; though his conclusion that ‘Voluptas … is the highest achievement of unredeemed humanity’ (171) and that it is ‘a great but limited good’ (172) is much too complimentary. To see physical voluptas as a ‘good’ is characteristic of the philosomatos in Plato’s Phaedo and is damaging to the soul — see esp. Phaedo 81b-83e, and cf. Schlam, C., ‘Platonica in the Metamorphoses of Apuleius’, TAPA 101 (1970), 480.Google Scholar

17. See Cicero, Pro Flacco 34.84.

18. Cf. 11.19 where Lucius displays hesitancy about being initiated, considering among other things castimoniorum abstinentiam satis arduam (‘that quite difficult abstinence of chastity’); also the Priest in 11.16 who utters his prayers casto ore (‘with chaste mouth’). Castimonia in fact denotes abstinence from other physical pleasures as well as sex — see 11.30, where inanima castimonia means ‘abstention from animal food’, a prelude to his third and last initiation.

19. In addition to the Phaedo passage cited above n. 16 cf. the simile of the Cave in Republic 514a-518c, where the process of coming to know the truth is described in terms of liberation.

20. See esp. Phaedrus 251a-252c.

21. Where Venus is addressed as hominum divumque voluptas/alma Venus (‘pleasure of men and gods, dear Venus’, 1.1–2).

22. This clearly looks forward to the Judgement of Paris mime in Book 10 – see below, 65–66.

23. Cf. Ovid, Metamorphoses 5.369–70, Propertius 2.30.28–32, Euripides fr. 136, et al.

24. Cf. especially the passage on sophrosyne (389d-390c) in which the story of Zeus being seduced by Hera to distract him from the Trojan War (Iliad 14) is singled out for attack.

25. Cupid’s very words to her on this occasion indicate that her experiences have not had any effect on her curiosity: rursum perieras, misella, simili curiositate (‘you would again have perished, poor girl, by the same sort of curiosity’, 6.21).

26. Her speech at 4.34 demonstrates that she is well aware of her situation, and indeed shows her at her most mature. As her relationship with Cupid progresses she manifests more and more those decidedly immature qualities of simplicitas and curiositas which play a large part in the events leading up to their separation and remain with her through the rest of the tale.

27. For a discussion of Lucius’ curiositas see below, 66–69.

28. There is an intriguing double irony about this oracle. At first it inspires fearful apprehension; then when it becomes clear who Psyche’s lover is the apprehension is dispelled — videt omnium feraruvi mitissimam dulcissimamque bestiam (‘she saw the gentlest and sweetest wild animal of all’, 5.22). But from the point of view of the thematic concern of the story vis-à-vis the novel as a whole, the oracle is quite correct. So too is the first description of Cupid in the tale: puer … pinnatus … et satis temerarius, qui malis suis moribus contempta disciplina publica, flammis et sagittis armatus, per alienas domos nocte discurrens et omnium matrimonia corrumpens impune committit tanta flagitia et nihil prorsus boni facit (‘The winged and headstrong boy, who with his evil character shows no regard for public law and order; armed with flames and arrows he rushes around other people’s homes and breaks up all their marriages. He commits all these dreadful crimes with impunity and has no real regard for anything.’ 4.30). Though light-hearted in tone, this stresses the irresponsibility and destructiveness of sexual passion which will be illustrated again in stark horror stories such as that of Tlepolemus and Charite in Book 8.

29. For her it is a romance; also her values are those of unregenerate mankind. See for example her aside at 5.1: iterum ac saepius beatos illos, qui super gemmas et monilia calcant (‘doubly and more blessed are they who walk upon jewels and precious stones’). Also hesr list of pleasant things to dream about (see below n. 32) is very much that of a voluptas-motivated human being. For her, therefore, the mating of Cupid and Psyche and the birth of Voluptas are happy events.

30. See above n. 18.

31. The state of a soul under the influence of the Olympians would be that envisaged by Plato of the ‘corrupt’ soul in the Phaedrus: 'Now he who is not newly initiated or who has become corrupted, does not easily rise out of this world to the sight of true beauty in the other, when he contemplates her earthly namesake, and instead of being awed at the sight of her, he is given over to pleasure (hedone), and like a brutish beast he rushes on to enjoy and beget; he consorts with wantonness, and is not afraid or ashamed of pursuing pleasure in violation of nature.’ (Phaedrus 250e-251a, tr. Jowett.)

32. Two further matters may be adduced in support of this interpretation of the tale. (1) The story is narrated by the drunken old woman who acts as housekeeper for the bandits; just before telling it, she makes the following remark about dreams: Nam praeter quod diurnae quietis imagines falsae perhibentur, tunc etiam nocturnae visiones contrarios eventus nonnumquam pronuntiant. Denique flere et vapulare et nonnumquam iugulari lucrosum prosperunique proventwm nuntiant, contra ridere et mellitis dulciolis ventrem saginare vel in voluptatem veneriam convenire tristitiae animi, languori corporis damnisque ceteris viam datum hi praedicabant. (‘For while the images conjured up in day-dreams are accounted false, what we see in night-dreams will even sometimes predict a contrary outcome. So that weeping or being flogged or even being murdered can announce a lucrative and hoped-for result; while on the other hand laughing or stuffing your stomach with honey-cakes or indulging in sexual pleasure may foretell the arrival of mental anguish, bodily illness or some other misfortune.’) Intended to hearten Charite, who has just dreamed that her lover was murdered by the bandits while attempting to rescue her, the passage forms an interesting thematic link with Book 11, where dreams figure prominently. In 11, however, dreams are invariably veridical, containing messages from Isis and Osiris — see 11.19, 11.20 (the ‘Candidus’ dream), 11.26, 11.27 (the ‘man from Madaura’ dream), 11.29: the epiphany of Isis itself (11.3–6) comes in the form of a dream. Voluptas-orienttd dreams cannot be relied on in this way. It would not be far-fetched to suggest that this constitutes a comment on the Cupid and Psyche story itself – which does have a certain dream-like quality in its development – warning the reader that its outcome may well be contrary to what it appears to be. The apparently happy ending certainly does not predict a prosperus eventus for Charite. (2) The story is told to Charite, who is at that time a prisoner in the bandits’ cave — a fact given emphasis by the elaborate description of this cave at 4.6. The immediate association of the notion ‘prisoner in a cave’ to a Platonist would surely be the simile of the Cave in Republic 514a ff., where the prisoners gaze on images cast on the back wall of a cave by the fire behind them and imagine these to constitute the sum of reality. The implication must be that the gods in ‘Cupid and Psyche’ are to Isis and Osiris as these flickering images are to the true sunlight outside the cave; or, to revert to the simile of the Divided Line (509d ff.), that the Olympians occupy the lowest section of the line — that they are to true deity as objects of illusion are to objects of knowledge.

33. Tatum (above n. 9) 491: ‘Apuleius never mentions the reader’s edification, but unless the tales are drastically out of harmony with the religious interpretation of the work … a purpose deeper than mere entertainment should be discernible in the stories.’

34. Mackay, L. A., ‘The sin of The Golden Ass’, Arion 4 (1965), 477Google Scholar: ‘Magic does not attempt to understand the universe, but merely to manipulate available portions of it for an immediate and selfish purpose.’

35. Three of the names in this tale have obviously been chosen to emphasize the polarity between the practice of magic and the practice of religion and philosophy which it illustrates. Meroe was the name of an important cult-centre of Isis on the upper Nile; Panthia suggests Panthea, ‘all-embracing goddess’, an epithet of the Isis who incorporates and transcends all other gods (cf. 11.5); and Socrates needs no explanation. See Schlam, C., ‘The curiosity of The Golden Ass’ CJ 64 (1968), 122Google Scholar. Walsh’s explanation of these names seems to me quite wrong (op. cit. [above n. 4] 149 n. 2).

36. Quod alioquin publicitus maleficae disciplincte perinfames sumus (‘because we are in any case publicly notorious for the practice of the evil art’).

37. Cf. also the other passages which list the powers of witches (1.3 init., 1.8), which likewise concentrate on their ability to reverse the natural order of things. On the thematic connection between ‘bringing light to Tartarus’ with Isis’ promise that she will be ‘shining in the darkness of Acheron’ (11.6) see Nethercut, W. R., ‘Apuleius’ literary art: resonance and depth in the Metamorphoses’, CJ 64 (1968), 107Google Scholar.

38. See e.g. Aristophanes, Clouds 749ff.; Lucan, Pharsalia 6.500–6.

39. The sight of the full moon renders Lucius certus etiam summatem deam praecipua maiestate pollere resque prorsus humanas ipsius regi providentia (‘assured also that the supreme goddess reigns in her conspicuous power and that human life is truly governed by her providence’, 11.1).

40. Cf. the reaction of the bystanders to Lucius’ retransformation (11.13 fin.), the vultus genialis (‘joyous countenance’) of the Priest as he is about to address Lucius (11.14 fin.), and the congratulations of the people in 11.16.

41. Aristomene, ne tu fortunarum lubricas ambages et instabiles incursiones et reciprocas vicisshudines ignoras (‘Aristomenes, you are well aware of the slippery windings, the fickle irruptions and the up-and-down alternations of man’s fortunes’).

42. Et tu, Fortuna durior, iam saevire desiste (‘And you, harsh Fortuna, now cease being cruel’).

43. There is a fascinating irony about this slanderous accusation in view of the ass’s subsequent sexual proclivities in Book 10. It is this accusation which leads to the possibility of Lucius being castrated, which he regards as extrema poena (‘the ultimate punishment’, 7.24) — a natural reaction for a voluptas seeker.

44. Likewise in the story of the mans murderess (10.23–28): justice again may be said to be done in having her thrown to the wild beasts, but again what can compensate for the destruction of five lives, three at least of which were completely innocent? This sense of helplessness in the face of criminal atrocity is brought out by Apuleius in each case; so with the first: Thrasyllus … nequiens idoneum exitum praesenti cladi reddere certusque tanto facinori nee gladiwn sufficere … (‘Thrasyllus … being unable to devise a death suitable for the disaster that had taken place and convinced that a sword was not sufficient in the face of such a crime …’, 8.14); and the second: [praeses] … illam, minus quidem quam merebatur, sed quod dignus cruciatus alius excogitari non poterat, certe bestiis obiciendam pronuntiavit (‘[The governor] … condemned her to be thrown to the beasts; it was less than she deserved, but no other suitable torture could be thought up’, 10.28). In the face of the destruction wrought, punishment seems almost irrelevant.

45. Ebel (above n. 16) sees this as being the nadir of the Metamorphoses, describing it as ‘a synopsis of catastrophe: brief, relentless and mechanical’ (166). However I do not see that it possesses a greater degree of ‘ghastliness’ (Ebel’s canon of measurement) than e.g. the tale of the farmer and his sons or that of the mass murderess – this second being Tatum’s (above n. 9) candidate for ‘the most dreadful of the tales’ (522). It would be possible to argue for a nadir at several points in the narrative: e.g. the marriage of Cupid and Psyche constitutes a spiritual nadir, Lucius’ despair in 7.2 the nadir of his personal fortunes, the munus of Thiasus the nadir of Lucius’ own spiritual progression. It is in fact mistaken to see the work as manifesting a ‘downward and upward curve’ as Ebel does (165); in one way or another Lucius is ‘down’ until he makes his choice in the arena, and this constitutes not a ‘curve upwards’ but a sudden jump from one mode of being to another.

46. See e.g. the opening sentence of the Priest’s speech at 11.15 (cited below, 74) and Lucius’ prayer at 11.25 (esp. depulsis vitae procellis salutarem porrigas dexteram, ‘beating down the storms of life you extend the right hand of salvation’).

47. According to Ebel (above n. 16), Venus constitutes ‘the incarnation of a “pleasure principle”’ (170), or a representation of voluptas. But again he errs through seeing voluptas as a good. The seductiveness of the nubile young actress represents the specious attraction of sexual pleasure: the reality lies in the coming display of bestiality.

48. A thematic link adumbrated but not developed in Schlam (above n. 16) 480.

49. The most recent articles on this subject are those of Schlam (above n. 35) and Sandy, G., ‘Knowledge and curiosity in Apuleius’ Metamorphoses’, Latomus 31 (1972), 179–83Google Scholar.

50. It is interesting to compare Lucius’ progress with the intellectual autobiography offered by Socrates in Plato’s Phaedo (96a ff.). Like Lucius, Socrates was anxious to know about everything to do with the phenomenal world (96a); but as with Lucius and magic, Socrates found himself on the wrong course, for the answers offered by the natural philosophy he was so interested in proved quite inadequate and forced him to change his approach. Both Lucius and Socrates are eventually induced to look away from the sensible world to the intelligible — Lucius to Isis and Socrates to the Forms (100b).

51. One modern critic professes to find it ‘very odd … that Lucius has already been initiated into an unspecified number of mysteries’, and treats this as one of the many ‘inconsistencies’ in the work (Scobie, A., More Essays on the Ancient Romance and its Heritage, Meisenheim, 1973 82f.Google Scholar). However it seems to me to point to an integral constituent of Lucius’ character, and is thus entirely consistent with his eventual conversion to the ‘true’ religion.

52. Nee ullum uspiam cruciahilis vitae solacium aderat, nisi quod ingenita mihi curiositate recreabar, dum praesentiam meam parvi facientey libere, quae volunt, omnes et agunt et loquuntur (‘Nor was there any consolation at all for this life of torture, except that I was kept going by my natural curiosity; since no-one paid any attention to my being present everyone did and said what they wanted’).

53. In Ovid’s Metamorphoses (11.146–93), Midas’ ass’s ears are a punishment for his lack of discrimination in preferring Pan’s music to Apollo’s. The ass-shape which fits Lucius’ own lack of discrimination in not being able to perceive the dangers of black magic should not therefore be expected to endow him with greater discernment.

54. Cf. also Plato Alcibiades Il 147a: ‘The state or soul that is to live aright must hold fast to this knowledge (sc. of the best), exactly as a sick man does to a doctor, or as he who would voyage safely does to a pilot … He who has acquired the so-called mastery of learning and arts (polumathia kai polutechnia), but is destitute of this knowledge and impelled by this or that one among the others, is sure to meet with much rough weather, as he truly deserves; since, I imagine, he must continue without a pilot on the high seas, and has only the brief span of his life in which to run his course.’ (Tr. Lamb.)

55. See esp. 2.1, 2.6 init., 3.19.

56. E.g. Walsh (above n. 4) 177–80, Tatum (above n. 9) 493–502.

57. Note especially in this passage the likening of Fotis to Venus, which, together with the eroticism of the description, establishes a clear link between her and the Venus of the Judgement of Paris.

58. As also notably in his encomium on women’s hair (2.8–9). On the link between this hair-fetish and the shaving of his head when he becomes a pastophore of Isis cf. Smith (above n. 2) 530.

59. Aristomenes 1.19 fin. (relicta patria et Lare, ‘I left my homeland and my Lar’); Socrates 1.6 and 1.8; Thelyphron 2.30 (nee … Lari me patrio reddere potui, ‘nor … was I able to take myself back to my homeland Lar’).

60. So also Lucius, like Socrates, is ‘given up for dead’ by his family (11.18), but after his initiation returns patrium Larem revisurus (‘to see again my homeland Lar’, 11.26 init.) — yet another instance of Isis healing the wounds inflicted by the witches.

61. See 7.14, 9.15. The last time he mentions her is at 11.20, where he speaks of her ‘entangling me in her evil errors’ (cum me Fotis malis incapistrasset erroribus). It is here that Lucius’ self-righteousness becomes somewhat nauseating.

62. The most recent discussion of the role of laughter in the Metamorphoses is by Kenny, B., ‘The reader’s role in The Golden Ass’, Arethusa 7 (1974), 199–205Google Scholar.

63. A delusion which Apuleius skilfully inculcates in the reader by not divulging the truth until afterwards. It is simply not the case that ‘on the Feast of Laughter the reader is aware of what is going on but Lucius is not’ (Kenny, op. cit. [above n. 62], 199). There is not a hint in 2.32 that the ‘bandits’ at the door are really animated wineskins; the dénouement of 3.9 is just as much a shock to the reader as it is to Lucius.

64. So Byrrhena on the first (Sollemnis dies a primis cunabidis huius urbis conditus crastinus advenit, quo die soli mortalium sanctissrmum deum Risum hilaro atque gaudiali ritu propitiamus, ‘Tomorrow there comes a day declared a religious festival at the first foundation of this city; on that day we alone of mortals propitiate the holy god Laughter with cheerful and happy ceremony’, 2.31) foreshadows Isis on the second (Diem, qui dies ex ista nocte nascetur, aeterna mihi nuncupavk religio, quo sedatis hibernis tempestatibus et lenitis maris procellosis fluctibus iam pelago rudem dedicantes carinam primitias commeatus libant mei sacerdotes, ‘The day which will be born from this night eternal religion has named as mine; on that day, since the storms of winter have been calmed and the tempestuous waves of the sea made smooth, my priests consign a rough-hewn craft to the now navigable sea, thus consecrating to me the first-fruits of the trading season’, 11.5).

65. The note of joy in serving the goddess on which the work here closes recalls the ending of Plato’s Republic, where, after a final admonition to consider above all things the welfare of the immortal soul, Socrates concludes with: ‘so that it may be well with us’ (621c). The similarity of tone is undoubtedly intentional.

66. This is emphasized by the fact that Fortuna is so often the subject of the sentence – e.g. 7.16 init., 7.17 init., 7.20 init., 7.25, 8.24 init.

67. And once again the apparent change for the better which Lucius experiences should put the reader on his guard. At least one recent critic has been taken in by appearance to see an ‘ascending’ quality in this book – see Ebel (above n. 16) 173f.

68. The notion of the ass as a symbol of lust is reinforced by references to the large size of its penis: cf. 3.24 (nee ullum miserae reformations video solacium, nisi quod mihi iam nequeunti tenere Fotidem natura crescebat, ‘nor could I see any benefit arising from this wretched reshaping except for an increase in size in that part of me which was no longer capable of satisfying Fotis’) and the fear expressed in 10.22 that the matrona will prove too small for tam vastum genitale (‘such an enormous genital organ’).

69. Compare 10.16 (risu ipse [sc. Thiasus] quoque latissimo adusque intestinorum dolorem redactus, ‘himself too was brought to a pain in the stomach through huge laughter’) with 3.10 (illi dolorem ventris manuum compressione sedare, ‘they alleviated the pain in their stomachs by pressing their hands on them’).

70. Note the use of the legal technical term matrimoniimi confarreaturus (‘about to solemnize marriage’, 10.29 init.) and cf. the already discussed use of convenit in manum to denote the marriage of Cupid and Psyche (above p. 52).

71. Elsewhere in Books 7–10 wild beasts are used to represent the irrational and unpredictable incursions of Fortuna into the lives of men. In particular there is the bear which devours the sadistic boy (7.24), the boar which attacks Tlepolemus (8.4), the wolves which menace the runaway slaves (8.15), and the immanis draco (‘enormous snake’) which devours the young man (8.21). There is in this a thematic link with Book 11, i.e. with the tame animals who come in the ‘carnival’ part of the procession celebrating the ploeaphesia festival (11.8) – a ‘tame bear’ (ursani mansuem), a monkey dressed as Ganymede and an ass (!) made up as Pegasus. (Cf. in regard to the first part of this note the ‘wild beasts’ mentioned by the Priest in 11.15 as being associated with Fortuna’s persecution of Lucius – see above n. 5).

72. For an intimation that Lucius underwent his experiences as an ass during winter see 9.32.

73. Cf. above n. 71. On the ass as Pegasus see Nethercut (above n. 37) 113–5.

74. Paradoxically the ‘disorder’ of the Isiac procession is associated with the true order of the universe, whereas the ‘order’ of the Pyrrhic dance is associated with the disorder of Fortuna. In an irrational world man feels the need to create his own ordered patterns; in the security of a world governed by a benign and rational deity there is no such need. Cf. the account of the bringing of the Ark to Jerusalem in 2 Sam. 6.

75. Contrast the display of his erect penis to Fotis at 2.16 (inguinum fine lacinia remota inpatientiam veneris Fotidi monstrans, ‘in the end I displayed the impatience of my desire to Fotis by throwing aside the covering over my loins’).

76. It is worth noting that Apuleius has to some extent created in Book 10 an anticipation of a Lucianic ending. In ‘Lucian’s’ version Loukios regains his human shape by seizing some roses from an attendant in the amphitheatre just before the public copulation is to take place (Ass 54); he then revisits the Lucianic equivalent of the matrona hoping she will like him better in human form, but is thrown out. The possibility of such an ending is hinted at in Apuleius by the description of spring in 10.29 and the flowers carried by the attendants of ‘Venus’ in 10.32. But as so often the anticipation is misleading, since Apuleius intends to take quite a different turn; and the surprise thus created serves to heighten the sense of a break from the materialistic voluptas-oriented world depicted by ‘Lucian’.

77. This must be what the Priest means. Kenny (above n. 62) cannot be right in maintaining that ‘he (sc. the Priest) ascribes his (sc. Lucius’) salvation not to any human wisdom or even divine plan but to sheer luck’ (199). It was not an act of Fortuna that Lucius chose to escape from the arena, but an act of volition on the part of Lucius himself. However it is not until such an act has been made and the existence of divine providence acknowledged that the protection of the goddess can be enjoyed.

78. Cf. the similar paradox in the ‘Collect for Peace’ said at Morning Prayer in the Anglican liturgy: ‘O God, who art the author of peace and lover of concord, in knowledge of whom standeth our eternal life, whose service is perfect freedom …’

79. Once again a thematic link with Aristomenes’ tale suggests itself, for after Meroe and Panthia have urinated in his face Aristomenes compares himself to a ‘new-born baby’ (quasi recens utero matris editus, 1.14). The disgusting and sordid physicality of this ‘rebirth’ is in utter contrast to the spiritual rebirth undergone by Lucius.

80. On this cf. Smith (above n. 2) 5 3 Iff.