The Poems of Catullus

What can you say about Catullus? He's the poet's poet, a master of structure and language and image and soulful composition. These poems are a high point in classical literature. The translation is reasonably good, considering the material. The language flows and in the places where the translator attempts to match the spirit of the original, although often the literal meaning of the original is lost. As others have said, he takes a few liberties to try to tweak the rating down to at least a heady PG-13, and that's not the best way to treat the poet. Most often, in this case, what is lost is the impact of the meter on the feel of the sentiment of the poem. But that can't be helped, there's no way to substitute a translation for he real thing, and as far as translations go this one is the best I've ever seen.

As a Latin student of Catullus, this book was recommended to me as a guide. While the format is great for students, Latin on the left side, English on the other, I have one serious quarrel with the translation. The translator takes many liberties and does NOT translate literally. He tries to make the English version sound as poetic as Catullus would and fails. Also, Catullus is very graphic in his descriptions of lewd acts and the translator flufs the English version to make it PG-13 instead of the intended R rating.

Catullus is one of the poets who first kindled my love of poetry, and I was delighted to discover this excellent recent translation. Martin beautifully conveys Catullus' many faces and moods, from the mock-sweet lyric about his mistress' dead sparrow, to the spare, anguished syllables of odi et amo...much recommended...

This guy is a genius. Found out about him through Colleen McCullough's books, and have been addicted ever since. Reading him is to discover a bygone age that's at once disturbingly familiar, in all its decadent glory, the careless everyday passings and flings, the petty feuds, etc. He tells us who's sleeping with who, who's been jilted, who's beautiful and why it doesn't always matter, of love found, experienced, lost and rejection. His poems are bawdy, hilarious, totally un-p.c., stormy, dark and brooding, yet tender and poignant at the same time. I especially liked poem 5 ("lesbia, let us love and live..."), poem 42 (the one about the notebook stealer) and 101 ("ave atque vale") -I hope I got the numbers right; I don't have the book in front of me.A writer once claimed that Catullus' works are "more fun that waving a dog's head on a stick at your mother". While how fun a severed head might be I don't know (and wouldn't want to find out!), the poems are definately a treasure, and Michie's is by far the best translation (have read a few others, not nearly as good).

Perhaps the best thing about Catullus's poetry is that in them he talks to himself. Take for example poem number eight. The first two lines begin with Catullus reproaching himself for still loving-we suppose-Lesbia. But then he spends the next six lines, a whole third of the poem, reminding himself of the pleasurable days when they were still lovers. It is almost as if, in reproaching himself for not putting Lesbia behind him and forgetting her, Catullus actually reminds himself of the good aspects her love. Thus, the reproach has the opposite affect of its intent, which to get himself to forget Lsebia. But, the ease in which he falls into reminiscence tells us about the speaker. It illustrates why he must reproach himself. In line nine, Catullus catches himself and again reproaches himself: "Now she no longer wishes; you mustn't want it." This reproach comes almost as if Catullus realizes what he has done-fallen into the habit of dwelling on her-and gets mad at himself. He obviously still hurts, but Catullus turns this feeling around-in a classic Freudian reaction formation-and addresses the next lines to Lesbia: "Goodbye now, Lady. Catullus' heart is hardened / he will not look to you or call against your wishes." As if telling her will make it so. The next lines are typical angry lover's rhetoric, warning her that she'll regret her decision to leave him. Following in that same spirit, Catullus uses the next three lines to remind Lesbia what she will miss. But, in an interesting twist, emphasized by the italicized word "you," Catullus addresses the last line of the poem to himself: "But you, Catullus! You must hold out now, firmly!" What has Catullus done? Is it possible that, in warning Lesbia of the things she will miss, Catullus has actually once again reminded himself of the things he will miss? We are left wondering whether Catullus has actually not made himself feel worse. And this is what makes this a good poem. There is a payoff for taking time reading this poem: seeing how the speaker's overt words contribute, and lead to, more feelings and further reaction. Thus, although the surface poem seems like another example of an angry lover's protestation, the poem underneath is a crafty interior monologue. The poet Catullus gives us a glimpse that perhaps we know more of lover-Catullus's feelings and can read his thinking better than he can.