Thursday 3 February 2022

Marcia's Motive

Marcia, a female given name, from a Latin word meaning “war-like.”
Marcia, a partner for war, for 'trials and concerns', though trials and concerns this Marcia has had of her own, for being Woman. Her womb is spent and her second husband is dead, she returns to reclaim her first: Cato, the better husband, who after their third child gave her fruitful womb to enrich another home. Marcia does not want 'to be passed to yet another man' or to be left behind in safety. Like the meaning of her name she (I presume) wants to be not just closer again to Cato but closer to war. If Cornelia can follow Pompey, why can't she Cato? Though the times are strange for re-marriage she 'sways her man'. The renewal of their vows is however 'without the empty pomp'; there are no festive garlands, no customary torches, no flowing togas, or any jewels to adorn bare necks or arms. The groom is sober and unshaven, and 'no relatives, no neighbours gather to share their union. They unite in silence'. Cato believes in procreation and that having already been achieved does not believe in renewing their 'wedded love'. Marcia has retied herself to a man who knows how to conquer his hunger, who is seemingly all for asceticism.
I beg to question: what is Marcia hungry for? Security or war? The first she can be certain of – through remarrying, but the second only ever brings uncertainty, and what guarantee does she have that Cato won't be wounded, perhaps fatally, by his own hand or another's? Is security a home or a man, or is it neither, because with or without war it seems (for women) both cannot be had? Woman are at the mercy of, and dependent upon, men, all men – fathers, husbands, adult sons. What choice do they have but to agree to a new joining of houses i.e. marriage, or to throw themselves at former husbands when one has perished?
Marcia is moved to action, prompted I imagined by her second husband Hortenius' death, or possibly compelled by some other inner urge or contemplated result or physiological need. Her reason to act as she does however could be unconscious, or be as unclear to her as it is to me. Why return to a former husband? Particularly one that sent you to another, though perhaps this was common practice in Roman times?
What is Lucan, the author of the epic, trying to portray? The Roman ideal of marriage and a wife unfailing in her duty? Marcia has done what was asked of her – 'bore the children of different husbands' – but now she is tired and wishes to renew their unbroken bonds. She still then considers herself bonded to Cato, and possibly during the alliance with Hortenius always did. She felt on loan. But was she actually on loan? And is it rest she now craves or adventure? Is it war she's looking for, or is she only war-like in nature, that is to say she will fight on, even when spent?
I had entertained a notion that Lucan had deliberately settled upon her name for its meaning, but the little detail given on her (in the notes) points to her existence: she was, like the other characters, some of whom (by name) we know so well, drawn from life. What they do not divulge, or solve, is the why return? why remarry? and so I continue to ruminate upon, developing more conjectures. There is no end to this puzzle, not when Julia's motive (Caesar's daughter and Pompey's dead wife) is so obvious: jealousy. She refuses to recognise Pompey's new wife, Cornelia, and when visiting Pompey in a dream refers to her as “mistress”. She is her father's daughter and will not release her grip. She says to him: “...my shades, my ghosts, will never allow you not to be his [Caesar's] son-in-law. You hack away our wedding vows with the sword in vain. Civil war shall make you mine.” In other words he will die; he is threatened with disaster on all sides: from gods and ghosts. Caesar will own his days and Julia his nights, and Fortune, his mind is certain, will not save him.
And yet, still I cry: But what of Marcia?
Such small parts for women, and yet so affecting.

Picture credit: Marcia, 1513, Domenico Beccafumi (source: WikiArt).

Developed from journal entries on reading Lucan's Civil War (Penguin Classics, translated by Matthew Fox), January 2021.