"Lost" Section of an Ancient Novel

[Lunamor she/her]

I figured I should do something special for my 8,000th post, and I conveniently just finished a school writing project. It's extremely niche, but I'm posting it anyways for the heck of it. I wrote a (fake) excerpt from the (real) ancient Roman novel Metamorphoses by Apuleius, probably written some time during the 100s. It's fascinating to read something like that and it's surprisingly funny, although I'll note that I'd give it a heavy content warning. It's about a guy named Lucius who gets turned into a donkey and has to go on a journey to change back. A significant portion of it is vignettes Lucius hears from other people. The one I wrote is told by a woman who seems to be enslaved by bandits, and she just finished telling a kidnapped girl, Charite, a story to try to cheer her up. Lucius is listening in donkey form nearby.

(Spoilered for length and bookended by the real text from the novel)

Spoiler

25. This was the story the boozy little dame in her dotage told the captive girl. Standing close by and listening, I was sorry, by Hercules, that I didn’t have a notebook and pen so that I could take down such a charming little yarn.

…

As I lamented my lack of writing instruments, Charite broke into a new bout of sobbing. She again began to rip out her hair. By this point, I worried that her head would resemble that of a man whose youth had retreated long ago, taking his hairline with it. The crone frowned at her reaction. I almost pitied the woman. She’d told the girl an admittedly impressive story in a valiant attempt to comfort her, yet was thanked only with tears. I knew that any of my stories would never have such a poor result- unless the tears were intended, of course. Still, I could imagine the frustration. The old woman suddenly drank from a bottle she procured from seemingly nowhere, taking a long, noisy swig. One benefit of my four-legged form was a strong sense of smell that told me it was undiluted, cheap wine. She slammed the container back down onto the floor hard enough that I shied back, worried that it would shatter. It held, however, stubbornly proving that it was worthy of the most prized vintages. The unfortunate object would never find its true purpose in the hands of such a poor woman.

It seemed like she was silent for hours, but Charite’s sobs likely extended the minutes which were passed in reality by making everything distinctly uncomfortable. My large ears felt like they would begin to bleed from being stabbed with her sharp wails, and I considered braying in an attempt to drown them out. I managed to keep my suffering silent, as yet another beating would only serve to hurt me even more. Eventually, the woman spoke again.

“Things could be a lot worse for you, young lady. You still have hope of escape through a ransom. If your life is as wonderful as you say, then your parents will surely pay it.”

The woman sighed.

“I wish that money could rescue me as it will you. I see the spoils my boys bring with them from their exploits, but I am granted none. They’d hardly be able to survive without me. Cooking and cleaning for as grimy a lot as them is a monumental task. I, a freeborn woman, am forced to do the work of a slave!”

Charite quit tearing at her hair, her curiosity rising up within her like the flowing of the tide. Between her wails, she managed to choke out a question.

“Why do you stay here?”

A scowl appeared on the woman’s face, the shadow from a cloud passing over the sun adorning her expression despite the roof blocking out the sky.

“I stay here because I must. It’s a rather long story. I cannot tell it over such loud crying, however. It would be cruel to my old, tired voice.”

The woman sighed, more dramatically this time. The ocean waves had now begun to crash against the shore and Charite’s sobs faded as it began to roar. The old woman smiled, then stopped as she remembered what tale she was about to tell.

“Long ago, when I was a few years your senior, I fell on hard times. My family, selfish as they were, refused to lend me even the smallest fraction of their wealth. They claimed it was my failure to find a husband which stripped me of my rights to their support. I hardly had a striking visage, however, and they did a poor job of offering enough money to potential suitors to make up for it. They were such a stingy lot that I decided to liberate a small sum from their horde. If they were so careful with their spending, it wouldn’t impact them at all. Careful as I was, a slave who had always hated me (it wasn’t my fault he had such an annoying voice!) spotted my attempt at a stealthy escape and alerted the rest of the house. Claiming to be merciful, instead of sending me to prison, they cast out I, their own flesh and blood, from the city. 

“They hadn’t bothered to provide me with any provisions, so I was left wandering without a single possession to my name. It was as if not another soul was present on the roads. At the time, I believed that to be a blessing. My clothing was of a fine quality, and an unaccompanied woman such as myself looked to be a prime target for robbing. After what must’ve been days of wandering aimlessly, blisters arising from the soles of my feet, through my innards, and up to my lips, I happened upon a small shrine. It encircled a well-carved statue of a goddess, an opaque white veil draped over her eyes. I assumed that this could be none other than Fortune. Who other divine being was as blind as she was? I was not unfamiliar with her behavior, of course. They say she bestows her favor at random, choosing her luck’s recipients based on no criteria at all. But I was desperate. I called out to that statue with what little remained of my thirst-cracked voice, knowing that my prayer would be futile but clinging onto hope anyways.

“‘Goddess of this shrine, merciful, generous one, your beauty I see before me has ensnared my mind. I know that only you can help me in my plight. I am an innocent woman who has been unjustly cast out from her home for trying to distribute a small amount of wealth to one who desperately needed it. I have nothing and no way of regaining anything. Bestow your favor upon me, and I swear I will use it to glorify you. This humble shrine would become a temple if only I had the fortune to build it.’

“After a moment of silence, I lowered my head, thinking that my prayers had either been ignored or not heard at all. Fortune is fickle and, with the way she acts, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was deaf, too. As I began to leave that place barren of divinity, I suddenly felt a presence behind me. Turning around, I saw what seemed to be Fortune herself standing before me. Awestruck, I was unable to do anything but stare. The statue had turned out to be as accurate a portrayal of the goddess as could be chiseled in a marble form. This, of course, meant that it was hardly accurate at all. Her white veil was draped over her head, concealing her eyes just as her likeness proclaimed. There was another beauty to her, however, that escaped what common stone could impart. I fear that it escapes words as well, so I will spare myself the trouble of attempting to fully describe it.

Before I could scarcely start to have my fill of the visual feast laid out before me, the goddess spoke with a voice that rattled my youthful bones.

“‘I have heard a prayer. I know little about the one who spoke it, and thus cannot grant what is asked. If she who begged me for aid proves herself worthy of trust, I will give her what she requests. She must help the next person she meets with whatever problem they are facing. She is not to ask for anything in return. Her act must be of complete generosity. Fail to follow these terms, and she will face my punishment. Does she agree to this contract?’

“I replied immediately, my thrill at hearing what was proposed quickly overcoming my amazed stupor.

“‘I will do as you ask, great goddess. I thank you for providing me with your blessings.’

“Without replying, the goddess disappeared in a flash of light. I was blinded for a few seconds and the inaccurately accurate statue was once again my only companion when I regained my vision. Admittedly, I was not as entirely innocent as I claimed. I had indeed been convicted of a crime, if only a small and completely justified one. But Fortune, blind as she was, couldn’t have known that. She said it herself- she knew little about the one who spoke the prayer. Here was my chance to convince the goddess that I was pure of heart and sound of mind. The task was simple enough: Help a stranger with whatever they needed.

“So, not risking frustrating the goddess by dallying at the shrine, I quickly set off. My aimless wandering now had a purpose. Once again, the roads seemed barren of other souls. After hours of walking, I feared that it would be impossible for me to complete my task. Just as I was about to despair, however, I saw a figure in the distance. Hurrying over, I saw that his clothing was less fine than mine (not that my rags were recognizable as the splendorous outfit they had once been) but still of a good quality. He was standing next to a well-groomed white horse, looking at the ground with pouted lips that pulled a troubled expression down across his face. When he noticed my approaching presence, he looked up, his eyebrows pulling up his face into surprise.

“‘Young woman, why are you alone? I mean you no harm, but I cannot say the same for the many brigands that wander in this area.’

“‘I was unjustly cast out from my home, treated by my family as if I were not one of their own merely for trying to help an unfortunate woman. I was robbed of even the opportunity to do a bit of good. Not only can I not help myself, but I cannot help any others. The latter is a blow to my soul.’

“The man’s eyebrows relinquished control of his expression back to his lips, which curled up into a smile that pushed on the undersides of his eyes. He clearly believed every word I said and gave some of his own in return.

“I was beginning to think that I was alone! No other stranger has been kind enough to offer their services. It was seeming to be a heartless machination of Fortune that stranded me alone, but now she has brought me an assistant. I have run into a problem that is preventing me from continuing with my travels.’

“I felt a great relief. It would have been a cruel (and thus inherently not unexpected) twist of fate if the next person I met had nothing for me to aid them with. I replied quickly.

“‘Please, tell me what you need! I will do everything I can to help.’

“The man gestured towards his horse and a few bags strewn across its back, once of which was ripped open and emptied of whatever its contents had been.

“‘My horse got into one of the sacks where I keep his feed and ate far more grain than his stomach was intended to hold. This treachery took place at night, however, so I was given no chance to stop it. The next morning, when I went to prepare his food and noticed the greedy beast’s work, I heard a noise loud enough that it sounded like Jupiter himself had decided to announce his presence. The foul stench that soon accompanied it, however, told me that it was a consequence of my horse’s actions. Unfortunately, my donkey had been tied up behind my horse. Upon being jolted awake by the noise, he feared for his life and began to run away as quickly as he could. The rope binding him to a tree proved no match for his terror, and I was powerless to stop him as he fled. Save for a few that were yanked off by the sudden motion, all of my bags were on that animal. The donkey has remained skittish, resisting all of my attempts to win it back over with morsels of food not already strapped to its back. Its fear has left in it a perpetually feral state. A crippled man such as I has no ability to re-tame the beast.’

“In my excitement, I had failed to notice that he was leaning on a cane. This seemed to be another mercy from Fortune. I assumed that surely a task difficult for a man unable to run would be easy for a spry young woman such as myself.

“‘Point me in the direction of the donkey, and I will recapture it for you. You need not worry about your possessions.’

“I wondered what those possessions were, what riches he might be carrying, but refrained from asking to keep my promise to the goddess. There was no need to tempt myself with the possibility of a monetarily substantial reward. The man pointed towards a large grove of trees to the east.

“‘My donkey has taken up residence there. He uses the trees as protection. The beast is remarkably talented at hiding among them; it’s as if he can stand on two legs to fit his entire body behind a trunk.’

“He looked back at me, eying me up and down.

“‘I trust that you won’t rummage through my private possessions.’

“I replied hurriedly. I was too eager to leave to keep my words at a reasonably slow pace.

“‘I swear that I will not touch any of your bags.’

“Without another word, I dashed to the thicket. The throbbing pain in my feet had fled in the face of my new-found hope. My speed meant the journey took little more than a few minutes, although it felt far too long. When I arrived and finally stopped my running, I noticed the absence of the sound of my thunderous footsteps. I let loose a foul word at my lack of stealth- making a commotion would drive away the donkey. I then cursed again, silently this time, after realizing that loudly shouting foul language was an even more foolish mistake. Before venturing into the woods, I made an attempt to spot the donkey from the outside. This proved to be as fruitless as I expected. Suffocating my natural instinct to sigh at this lack of convenience, I crept forwards on careful, silent feet.

“I was forced to spend quite a bit of my time looking downwards. The ground was littered with twigs and dry leaves that snapped and crackled in protest when trod upon. I saw something move out of the corner and my eye and looked up, but failed to find the source of the movement. I also failed to notice the fallen branch in front of me and stepped right on it. The noise seemed to bounce off of the surrounding trees as I froze in place. However, this spurred something into motion once again, further away this time. I barely noticed the end of a tail disappear behind a particularly large trunk. 

“No longer caring for stealth now that I had been spotted, I rushed directly at it. I barreled straight through hanging branches but paid the scratches on my face and twigs in my hair no mind. When I reached the tree and swung around to the side that had been out of view, I was greeted by nothing. Groaning in frustration, I turned away from the spot barren of my quarry. This directed my vision at another, slightly smaller tree. This meant that I could see the tail and hind leg of the beast sticking out from it. Once again, I ran over. And once again, I didn’t make it in time. This continued for a while. I’d notice the donkey and chase after it. Each time I saw it again, slightly more of the full animal was revealed. The trees were beginning to thin and provided less effective coverage.

“Eventually, I was able to see everything but the head of the donkey; this included the bags it was laden with and the snapped rope dangling from its neck. I made it to the tree it had been behind, and was met with the usual. When I turned around, I was startled by the complete lack of trees. I had driven the donkey out of the thicket. That meant I could clearly see the entire animal. Well, at least its rear end. It was fleeing across the open field. I madly dashed after it, my breath having grown ragged and my muscles sore. I could hear its pants too. The chase through the forest had exhausted us both. Only one of us had spent the full day involved in chases, so I slowly began to catch up. My heart beating louder than my thudding strides, each bound took me closer to my target. I stretched out my hand towards the rope streaming behind the donkey. After a few close brushes and missed grabs, I finally felt my fingers close around the rope.

“I also felt my feet suddenly lose traction against the ground as I was dragged behind the donkey. My weight was nothing compared to it. It appeared that it shared the appetite of the man’s horse. I managed to change from sliding to dashing as I frantically tried to keep pace with the animal. My proximity had struck it with a renewed fear that in turn renewed its speed. I realized that I would tire long before it did, so switched to trying to dig my heels into the dirt. My shoes, fighting not to be torn to pieces, left divots in the earth behind me as I continued to skid forwards. The donkey’s head was pulled backwards by the tension I applied to the rope and it rapidly came to a stop. Barely managing to avoid stumbling into the beast, I too came to a stop. Having calmed down now that it had realized I wasn’t going to eat it, it looked at me with eyes that seemed almost to be embarrassed. I gave a sharp tug on the rope in retribution for its misbehavior, fearing that anything more severe would just send it into another panic.

“My anger gave way to curiosity as my eyes fell upon the packs the animal was carrying. I looked around, confirming that the two of us were alone. The donkey’s owner was out of sight. Fortune, being blind, wouldn’t be able to see anything I decided to do either. So, I untied one of the sacks and peeked inside. It was filled with gold coins. My eyes widened in shock. The man had looked rich, but I hadn’t imagined that he would be this rich. Having enough coin to necessitate carrying it around in a sack like this meant he was very, very wealthy. Quickly retying the sack, ensuring that it looked just as it had before my prying, I failed to wonder why someone with so much money would be traveling without any guards. Instead, I hurriedly made my way back to the stranger. This time, I was practically the one doing the dragging.

“When I arrived, I proudly presented the donkey to the man. It still seemed ashamed, cringing away from him. He smiled, taking the rope.

“‘I thank you immensely for your help. You have done me a great service. How may I repay your kindness?’

“I paused, unsure what to say. The goddess had commanded me not to ask for anything in return for my help. But the man was rich. I had seen golden proof of that hiding within his luggage. And Fortune was blind. She wouldn’t be able to see anything I did.

“‘I would humbly ask for some coin. I am destitute, and anything to help me return to a stable life would be greatly appreciated.’

“Before the man could reply, a familiar blinding flash of light appeared. The veiled goddess had returned. Her face was a mask of wrath.

“‘Why have you disobeyed me? You swore that you would not ask for anything in return.’

“I realized just how stupid my request had been. Fortune was blind, not deaf. Somehow, despite my terror at realizing I had been caught slighting a goddess, I wanted to laugh. It struck me as hilarious that Fortune, while blind, could always hear everything. Her blindness was not her reason for her poor judgment. Unless someone’s actions took place as if they were in a pantomime, their voice would inevitably betray their true intentions- intentions which Fortune never cared to pay attention to. Her ignorance was willful.

“‘Great goddess Fortune, I did only what was fair. I deserved compensation for my generosity. Catching a donkey is an arduous task.’

“The goddess scoffed.

“‘Fortune? Fortune wouldn’t care about helping you. She dispenses her luck at random. Your prayers would’ve been entirely ignored. I am Fides. You prayed at my shrine, not hers.’

“While I was surprised at the goddess’s true identity, it failed to change my overall emotional state. I had still lied to a goddess, and thus was scared for my life. She continued on without giving me an opportunity to apologize and express my extreme regret.

“‘Not only did you betray me, but you betrayed a man who was at your mercy. You promised not to look through his bags while you had them in your possession, but that was ultimately a lie. That gold you found was what spurred your greed, wasn’t it?’

“This confused me. The goddess had been wearing a veil. The statue had portrayed it as completely opaque; you couldn’t see through cloth like that. I looked at her more closely, and a gasp escaped my lips. Fides’s veil was transparent. That was something difficult for a statue to show. A lazy artist had doomed me.

“‘As punishment, you shall be this man’s slave for the rest of your life. There is no way to repay the debt incurred by betrayal through lies. Consider this a mercy.’

“The goddess then disappeared, blinding me a third time with her light. When I could see again, I saw the man smiling. This was a different sort of smile. The emotions displayed on his lips were entirely separate from those in his eyes. His mouth proclaimed his happiness. His eyes whispered his satisfaction. I fell to my knees, about to beg for mercy, for him to leave me be as repayment for my service to him. But, like the goddess, he too denied me the chance to speak. He simply grasped the handle of his cane, and pulled upwards. A gleaming blade was pulled out with it. I hung my head, knowing that he would listen to nothing I said. He let the half-unsheathed blade fall back into the cane, and ordered me to stand.

“He then brought me here. It turns out he was the leader of the bandits. That’s why I stay here, girl. I stay here because I can’t leave. I lied and, apparently, this is what liars deserve.”

I enjoyed hearing another story, although this one wasn’t quite good enough to deserve being recorded in writing. Mainly, I felt vindicated in my hatred of Fortune. Fides herself, goddess of truth and honestly, agreed that Fortune was the worst. Charite opened her mouth to speak. I wasn’t sure if she was going to express her sympathy or once again continue her wailing.

…

But then the bandits came back, loaded with the proceeds of some momentous battle or other that they’d just waged…

 

[BlueWildRye he/him]

If this were actually in the book I don't think I'd notice.

[Edema Rue she/her]

That was…actually so fun to read. I liked it a lot!!

[Lunamor she/her]

18 minutes ago, BlueWildRye said:

If this were actually in the book I don't think I'd notice.

Yay, mission accomplished!

5 minutes ago, Edema Rue said:

That was…actually so fun to read. I liked it a lot!!

You might like the real book, then! I read Sarah Ruden’s translation, I think the translator makes a big difference. (Again, heavy content warning though. It holds several views consistent with its time period, making parts problematic. Not necessarily a bad thing since it’s an interesting insight, but just a warning.) What’s interesting/kinda funny about novels from that time period is that they used the same general plot for everything oftentimes. It’s especially noticeable in Metamorphoses because it’s a bunch of smaller stories. The theme of curiosity = dangerous is extremely strong, with a few distinct story types (not a hard and fast rule, but pretty common).

Also, as a general rule, everything had to have a shipwreck in it somehow. Ancient Greek romance novels are “boy meets girl meets pirates” according to my professor (corroborated by the two we read)  If you were in rhetoric school, “write a shipwreck in a new and interesting way” was probably an assignment you’d have. Leucippe and Clitophon is a pretty cute and surprisingly nonproblematic ancient Greek romance novel considering the time period it’s from (still a bit problematic, though. Also, content warning 2.0).

(Sorry for the block of tangentially related text, this subject is just so interesting to me!)