Dido's Leadership In The Aeneid By Virgil

The Aeneid is an epic poem written by Virgil that has rightly achieved great fame through its 2,000 years of existence. Through its 12 books and 9,896 lines, The Aeneid tells of its antagonist, Aeneas, handling love, loss, war, and religion. In “Book IV” especially, Virgil makes specific mentions of Aeneas’s heroic style of leadership and how he compared to others with similar power. This category of “other leaders” includes the controversial Queen Dido of Carthage. After hosting a feast in his honor, Queen Dido falls madly in love with Aeneas and he quickly reciprocates her emotion. Through the tumultuous period of time after, the two get married, rule their kingdom, feud with one another, and eventually die tragic deaths. While Virgil follows

a foolproof formula for an interesting story, he depicts his main characters with a surprisingly vivid bias. When Virgil places his characters in identical situations, he writes in such a way that makes Aeneas look courageous but that also makes Dido look foolish and impulsive. The prejudice he shows against his female characters in power can give great insights into how ancient cultures relate to the gender issues of the modern day. Virgil uses his portrayal of Aeneas and Dido as leaders to show that even in ancient times, men were praised for doing the same actions women were judged for.
Prior to any examination, it is vital to understand that both Dido and Aeneas were equally coerced by divine intervention.

Juno had a great desire for the two to marry for political reasons; therefore, she plotted with the help of Venus to see it through. “‘There I shall marry them and call her his. A wedding this will be.’ Then Cytherëa, not disinclined, nodded to Juno’s plea, and smiled at the stratagem now given away” (Virgil 67-69). Both goddesses are startlingly forthcoming with their ulterior motives for the couple. Dido, although she did have a natural attraction to Aeneas, likely would not have wed him had it not been for the gods’ aid. Later, after their marriage had just about failed, the god Mercury delivered questionable guidance to Aeneas as well. While Aeneas planned a journey back to Italy, Dido pleaded with him to stay and reconcile their love. But, in reference to her appeals, “The fates opposed it: God’s will blocked the man’s unkindly ears” (Virgil 583-584). Her efforts were all for naught thanks to Jove’s decided path for his hero. By first looking solely at the causes of these lovers’ troubles, it is clear to see that they had similar beginnings. The effects, not the causes, are where the disparities come about and injustice is

served.
When Aeneas faced the consequences for the gods’ decisions on his behalf, his men met him with support and sympathy. Upon informing his crew that a god gave him advice to leave Carthage quickly, before the oceans and winds became unruly, they enthusiastically went to work. “All the men were gripped by his excitement to be gone, and hauled and hustled” (Virgil 775-777). Going further past the point of just trusting that Aeneas meant well, they were eager to aid him in his escape. To these workers, Aeneas was a respectable leader, and they would not consider doubting his actions. At the conclusion of Book IV, a short summary depicts the highlights over the rest of Aeneas’s journey after returning to Italy. This information is relevant because it shows, unlike the previous quote, not just other characters’ opinions of Aeneas, but also the author’s personal feelings. The textbook editors summarized Virgil’s ideas as, “[Emphasizing] the role of the hero to society as Aeneas fights valiantly to achieve his destiny and found Rome” (Virgil post-942). Virgil’s (possibly gender based) bias shines through in how he chose illustrate Aeneas in a positive light, even after the fatal choices he had made prior. Aeneas appears courageous and brave simply for doing what the gods instructed him to do. The added fact that these actions had negative outcomes, and yet Aeneas faced no punishment or questioning, speaks considerably about how in patriarchal societies, people have an inclination to give men the better end of any deal.
In sharp contrast to this special treatment, Queen Dido’s actions were analyzed with a pessimistic undertone.

Dido did have very plenty of naturally occurring feelings for Aeneas, but the act of marriage that the two undertook was completely driven by gods. Concerning the marriage, all she did was accept Juno’s plan for her, and yet Dido still received grief from her previous suitor, King Iarbas. “This woman who turned up in our country and laid down a tiny city at price...After refusing to marry me has taken Aeneas to be a master in her realm…” (Virgil 272-276). This was part of a prayer Iarbas directed at Jove upon hearing the news of the marriage. He continued to ask Jove how he could allow such a thing to happen, not only for the political power the couple now holds, but also because of the emotional pain it causes him. Iarbas is unaware that it was under Juno’s helping hands the ceremony took place and, in this confusion, automatically assumes the whole ordeal to be Dido’s fault. By taking Rumor’s words at face value and not considering that there may be more to the story, Iarbas exhibits how people naturally figure that women make rash and impulsive decisions. Later, when Mercury was alarming Aeneas of Dido’s soon to be suicide, he too makes a general statement that is readily accepted as truth. “Woman’s a thing forever fitful and forever changing” (Virgil 761-762). Dido did become these two things within the story, but only thanks to Mercury’s actions. Had he not told

Aeneas to prepare for setting sail, Dido would’ve remained perfectly content with her kingdom and love life. Instead, Mercury plays her dramatic actions off as “just a girl thing” and doesn’t think to the fact that he was the root cause, not her emotions. These two examples solidify the idea that Virgil (perhaps) unknowingly set out to make his key female role appear to be feeble and weak-willed rather than the able, determined leader she truly was.

It is easiest to compare this ancient text to today’s society by looking at its modern day counterpart. While America does not have a national epic, it’s clear to see which stories we value in general by looking into the school curriculum. Nearly all high schools have The Scarlet Letter written by Nathaniel Hawthorne as a required reading material. While it achieved prominence thanks to its literary themes such as symbolism, it also professes, like The Aeneid, the general double standard that women face as compared men. The Scarlet Letter goes as follows: In the Massachusetts Bay Colony, Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale and Hester Prynne have a secret affair which results in Hester’s pregnancy. Since Hester’s husband has been out of country for the past two years, the townspeople quickly realize that she must’ve committed adultery to be with child and promptly ostracize her. Though Dimmesdale doesn’t reveal his role in the sin until 7 years later when he is nearly dead, the majority of the town assumes his involvement. Illustrator Tina Milz published in an online essay that the people of the town, “[regarded] his sin as a last lesson before their beloved reverend dies, while they heckled and shamed Hester for the same exact sin” (Milz). They had so much respect for this man, even in death, that they glorified all his sins and found ways to shine them in a positive, saintly light. These same forgiving churchgoers also forced Hester to parade around town wearing a scarlet “A”, spend time in prison, and live on the outskirts of town. “Although Hester and Dimmesdale were partners committing the same sin, Hawthorne creates a community that views them both differently” (Milz). Many argue that Hawthorne did so on purpose, to expose the ugly side of society to his readers. Whether it was incidental or not, the fact holds true that an extreme standard acceptability holds high above women's heads while remaining easily maintainable for men.

To compare this ancient text to modern literature in the simplest form possible, one should direct their attention to the simplest form of writing: children’s books. A 2011 article published through The Guardian dissects several studies that revolved around the prevalence of female roles, animal or human, in these cartoon books. Not shockingly, the gaps were obvious. When looking at the list of Caldecott award winners, “Books with male animals were more than two-and-a-half times more common across the century than those with female animals” (Flood). There are so few female-led books in this category that since the award’s establishment in 1938, only one book with a standalone female lead has won. Like The Aeneid, these short stories revolve only about male characters and show little diversity. Not only are authors often not writing about females, but when they do, the characters appear out of date due to strict gender roles. “It's important to balance much loved old-fashioned classics with stuff that evens things up a bit and reflects women's current role in the world” (Flood) says laureate Anne Fine. She offers, rather than following the status quo, to have a scene with a male role cooking or to have a female farmer. Having children grow up reading male-dominant book creates a cycle of them growing up to also write male-dominant books. Obviously, this wasn’t a factor in Virgil’s life that could’ve caused him to write a masculine epic. But, in the ripe age of 2015, this cycle of writing nearly identical characters is still present.