The "Satyricon" of Petronius, as noted by the Latinist Ettore Paratore - one of the most illustrious Italian scholars of the work and not only - is not a "unique" in literature, but it is undoubtedly the most "sui generis" of the Menippean Satires, the rarest gem of the novelistic landscape, the most successful and most subversive experiment of the "roman à clef" ("key novel"), a centenary work that shines with two elements: the satirical and the variegated, full, abundant, which is found in the Greek "poikilìa" ("variety", referring to style and content).

I find it necessary, in order to review the "Satyricon", to start from its title. Most likely, the root "satyr-" recalls "satyroi" of the Greek tradition, demonic entities of Dionysus' retinue, avid for lust. However, I also find a lot in the other etymologies of "Satire": in fact, the work overflows with "satietas" (in Greek "aphthonìa"), "satiety"; it overflows with "mixtura", "mixture"; it overflows with "varietas", "variety"; it overflows with "feracitas", "fertility"; it overflows with "copia", "abundance". Petronius catapults us into an "inverted world" that does not need to be fantastic to appear surreal: it is the world in which the Hellenistic adventure novel, which has a heterosexual couple as its protagonist, gives way to two homosexual love triangles, into which other personalities (Quartilla, Lica, Trifena, Circe) intervene; it is the world in which the maids aspire to knights and the noblewomen to servants (see the slave girl Chrysis and her mistress, Circe); the world in which the freedmen, who are overstuffed, speak a Greekized and mutilated "kunstsprache" (artificially created language), and boast a culture that they do not possess; a decadent world where the characters only complain, lamenting the previous generations - but this happens today as well.

Many figures emerge from the pages of this work - straddling an erotic-adventure novel, a prosimetrum, a Menippean satire, a parody of the classical epic: however, three, in my opinion, deserve particular attention: Encolpius, Trimalchio, and especially Giton.

Encolpius is presented to us in the books as a "scholasticus": a cultured man who renounces his times - as can be intuited from his discussion with the rhetor and master Agamemnon - asserting that the minds are no longer those of the past and that the fault lies with the schools. Encolpius is an inept persecuted by an avenging deity (in this case, the god Priapus, who condemns him to "periods of impotence"), a character victim of the situations in which he himself gets into, and who, for some strange twist of fate, always finds himself safe, a boy who does not know what he wants from life. He is a sharp observer - the story is told entirely from his point of view -, a fine listener, an ironic and sacrilegious judge. Through his comments, we manage to glimpse the message that the author - Petronius or whoever wrote for him - wanted to convey, the message of a man who despises his present but is also disillusioned with the past, which is impossible to recover. However, this does not mean that he is pessimistic: always ironic, always on the spot, "Petronius quod sursum est deorsunt facit" (What is above, Petronius brings below), wanting to reinterpret a phrase from the work itself. The contrast/comparison Encolpius/Petronius is one of the most interesting elements of the "Satyricon", because it raises questions, interrogations but also answers about its actual dating (still uncertain today), and because it outlines the portrait of a society in a sacrilegious perspective.

I believe that the character of Trimalchio is narratively overvalued. Let me explain better (before the most expert and conservative decide to send Priapus against me too): at a philological and linguistic level, Trimalchio and his crew of freedmen and slaves are very interesting, a vivid, real, and lively picture of life, which escapes the "trap" (sometimes wonderful, sometimes suffocating - especially if used in the manner of Eumolpus) of classical Latin. However, I found the dinner boring to read in Italian: I would have liked to have the possibility, the occasion, the time, and the faculty to read it in Latin, to fully enjoy all the neologisms, all the ways of speaking, all the words borrowed from Greek ("saplutus", "very rich", "topanta", "everything", "babaeculus", "babbling"), the whole parade of pearls of Trimalchio and his associates. The part of the dinner is not by chance the most studied, but if I may be allowed to be the Encolpius of the situation, I would value, especially in high school - where it is impossible to linguistically investigate a work due to lack of tools and time - the continuation of the "Satyricon", which is very entertaining and narratively rich. I recognize in the dinner the maximum expression of the work, where the sense of "exaggeration" is taken to the extreme; and yet, when I got more or less towards the end, I felt that it was "too much", and that I was overflowing just like a satyr.

And finally, there is Giton, of all the main characters, the least considered, in my opinion the most interesting. Giton, in his freshness as a sixteen-year-old, contested between Encolpius and Ascyltus and then between Encolpius and Eumolpus - and Encolpius and the girl of Quartilla, and Encolpius and Trifena - is the character of the two worlds. He is as astute as the freedmen but has the purity, especially aesthetic, of the beloved youth, of him who would do anything to be forgiven and who intuits things before others, always knowing how to act - a little by intuition, a little by chance. I love the way he relates to Encolpius, the way they "ally" even when they have to pretend not to be together, the way he makes fun of Ascyltus and Eumolpus, the way he understands that his companion is in difficulty and supports him in the game. I found in him the soul of the "Satyricon" and the fulcrum of its irony, a character with a distorted but still contained balance, never heavy, always fresh and light.

In conclusion, I would say that the "Satyricon" is not only a mixture of literary genres but a parodic revisitation of what has already been said, as if everything that Homer, Virgil, and the other authors of myths and universes have poetized were presented in a reversed way, and yet with the impression that it has been told for the first time. It is a work with a genius history and structure, to which I am inevitably attached, and which should be revalued narratively as a whole and proposed not only as a work of classicism but as a true "classic novel" that must be read absolutely.

It has been quite some time since I came across a book that was simply dull.

You know, in the world of literature, there are so many amazing and captivating works that it's easy to forget that not every book can be a masterpiece.

But as they say, everything has its time, and it seems that this dull book was just waiting for its turn to cross my path.

Maybe it was the writing style that didn't click with me, or perhaps the story lacked the necessary depth and excitement.

Whatever the reason, it was a bit of a disappointment.

However, I'm not one to give up easily. I'll keep on reading, hoping to find that next great book that will transport me to another world and leave me completely enthralled.

After all, that's the beauty of reading - the possibility of discovering something truly wonderful.

The work is divided into three parts of varying quality.

The first part is brutal, presenting a vivid and perhaps shocking portrayal that grabs the reader's attention.

The second part, however, is rather dull and may cause the reader to lose some interest.

The third part has its ups and downs, with moments of excitement and others that are less engaging.

Overall, it is a raunchy comedy with touches of black humor that is useful both for having a good laugh and for learning about the daily life of Roman society, with a clear component of social criticism.

It offers a unique perspective on that time period, showing both the lighter and darker sides of Roman life.

Despite its flaws in the pacing and quality of the different parts, it still manages to be an interesting and thought-provoking work.

The "Satiricón" is widely regarded as the first novel in history. In a sense, it is more of a narrative prototype of a novel rather than a novel in its strictest sense, despite having a certain storyline that is disrupted by the excessive inclusion of apocryphal texts. It is believed that the intention behind this was to create a certain cohesion in the story told in this book.

Attributed to Petronio (or Gaius Petronius Arbiter), who lived between 14 and 66 and was called by his peers the "arbiter of elegance", the "Satiricón" is a testament to the dissolute and dissipated life of the character Encolpio and his friend and lover Asciltio, and in turn, Asciltio's lover, the young Giton. They engage in the unrestrained pleasures of sexual adventures with other men, including the powerful Trimalchio, who hosts an extraordinary banquet that they attend.

The anecdotes we encounter reveal the sexual content that was quite remarkable for the time, but also give us an idea of the degree of freedom that prevailed in Rome during those years. This freedom had degenerated into libertinage, which, as could be expected, reached its peak of失控 in Roman emperors like Caligula or Nero.

Narrated in a vulgar Latin with touches of poetic flight in other passages, the "Satiricón" anticipates to some extent what the Marquis de Sade would write later between the 17th and 19th centuries and which would horrify his contemporaries.

The "Satiricón" also leaves us with three stories within the main one in which Encolpio experiences a kind of "Odyssey" (in fact, he has an encounter with Circe). The character makes repeated references to Ulysses and other Greek heroes and gods, despite being a Latin narrative.

Sadly, the introduction of so much apocryphal text (which in my edition is written in italics), in an attempt to create a connection with the texts left by Petronio, manages to distort the nature of this book to a great extent. It is one of the great legacies that Petronio left for literature, along with Ovid, Virgil, and so many other Latin luminaries.

Funny and filthy, this piece of writing reads like an ancient Marquis De Sade. It is truly a remarkable and rather scandalous work.

However, unfortunately, it also has a significant drawback. Due to the fragmentary nature of what has survived of the entire work, it comes across as very random.

The entire work is believed to have consisted of several volumes, but all we have now is approximately 300 pages. This limited amount of text makes it difficult to fully understand the overall structure and narrative flow of the original work.

Despite its flaws, this surviving portion still manages to capture the attention and curiosity of readers with its unique blend of humor and filth. It offers a glimpse into a world that is both fascinating and somewhat disturbing.

Perhaps one day, more of the original work will be discovered, allowing us to gain a more complete understanding of this mysterious and captivating piece of literature.

The ancient pagans, as is well-known, had a penchant for big dicks and anything symbolizing them, like Priapus, the well-endowed fertility god.

Centuries later, it might have been a shock to proper Christian bakers and the families enjoying their kneaded hot-cross buns if they knew they were essentially biting into a nice, warm, firm big dick.

Let me explain. Over time, the Christians used various means to de-paganize and convert the heathens, including making them give up gods like Priapus. But the pagans, while conceding to give up other gods, still loved Priapus and were reluctant to forsake him. They had no Viagra back then; Priapus was their only hope for sexual potency. The Christians, being more lenient, reached a compromise: the phallic loaves could be kept as long as a Christian cross was carved into them. Thus, the hot cross bun was born.

I mention all this to provide an interesting anecdote for you Goodreads review mavens and to note how often Priapus is invoked in Petronius' The Satyricon. This book was once considered "erotica" and was a hush-hush thing. It's filled with dirty and bawdy content, not politically correct at all. The Romans had different ideas about sex and were much freer. The characters in the book engage in various debaucheries, including boy love and using dildos.

Despite its dirty content, The Satyricon is also a great literary work. It's like the Iliad and Odyssey of illicit and ornery, the Candide of cock, the Don Quixote of dong, and The Canterbury Tales of tail. It's a grand Western literary tradition of the great journey, with fleet action, sweeping forward motion, and outrageous situations. It also has lovely ruminations on mortality, art, and love, as well as prescient portents about the fate of the empire.

The book is episodic, and what we have is only a fragment, perhaps as little as 1/5th of the original. But what we do have is golden. I give it three stars as a literary read and five stars as an invaluable record from antiquity. I think one quote sums up its ethos: "So much better does it profit a man to train his member than his mind!"

There are also many other great quotes in the book, such as "I knew not whether I was the more incensed with the boy for having robbed me of my mistress, or with my mistress for debauching the boy." and "You never saw so unfortunate a fellow; soaked leather, that's what his tool is!" These quotes add to the charm and humor of the book.

Overall, The Satyricon is a unique and fascinating work that offers a glimpse into the ancient Roman world and its attitudes towards sex, love, and life. It's a must-read for anyone interested in literature or history.

Thanks to "Satyricon", I now know that everything in "Fifty Shades of Grey", compared to the average ancient Roman party, can pass for a very boring Tuesday night.

It's not that the book has to be satire, but it still remains damn disturbing to the taste, to debauchery and whatever else you feel. I only regret that parts of the book are lost (the 20th century is its own time) and some things will remain a mystery to us.

Homosexuality of the era, pedophilia here and there, sex as much as your soul desires, who with whom and on whom doesn't matter much, as long as it's fun, distraction on apocalyptic scales. Oh, yes, and eating. The part with the party at Trimalchio can raise your cholesterol just while you're reading.

In other words, something for everyone.

"Satyricon" is a book that reveals a lot and somehow makes us think whether, 20 centuries later, we, the people, aren't still the same.

Perhaps unusually for a review of the Satyricon, let me quote the paragraph that first made me aware of the existence of Petronius’s work.

It was not always to be called The Great Gatsby. In a letter to Maxwell Perkins, Fitzgerald wrote: ‘I have now decided to stick to the title I put on the book. Trimalchio in West Egg’ (circa 7 November 1924). Trimalchio, of course, is the vulgar social upstart of immense wealth in the Satyricon of Petronius. He is a master of sexual and gastronomic revels who gives a banquet of unimaginable luxury. Unlike Gatsby, who is a non-drinking, self-isolating spectator at his own parties, Trimalchio most decidedly participates. He is a literal glutton, while Gatsby stands at a curious distance from all he owns and displays.

Trimalchio did not so much capture my imagination as Fitzgerald’s original idea of titling his book so. A couple of years later, I’ve finally come to the Satyricon. It’s hardly like Gatsby (though the extended dinner scene is comparably lavish), and Trimalchio’s character has a supporting role of purely satirical value.

The Satyricon is a picaresque novel featuring the protagonist Encolpius and his boyfriend Giton, a seventeen-year-old former slave. Part of it is lost, but what remains is presumably fairly representative of the whole. It’s a burlesque romance that combines low adventure and high literary sophistication, aiming for the coveted paradoxical status of bawdy and brainy entertainment. The so-called internal episodes focus on the relationship of Encolpius and Giton, while the external episodes focus on satirizing characters or practices of Roman society.

On the burlesque side, jealousy and romantic rivalry are major driving forces of the novel. Firstly, Ascyltus competes with Encolpius for Giton, then Eumolpus does the same. Both succeed to a certain degree, with Giton playing the traditional, feminized, pacifying, and passive role, ultimately failing and Giton returning to the pining Encolpius.

The literary side shows that the text is filled with numerous poetic portions imitating well-known styles (e.g., Virgil), but they are meant as pure imitation, if not outright mockery. The subjects and references would have required an education. For example, there’s a nod to Plato’s Symposium, or the various pseudo-heroes Encolpius is made to impersonate through his actions (Achilles, Aeneas, Odysseus—there’s a whole chapter where we meet Circe).

Fitzgerald wasn’t the only one influenced by Petronius’s work. Robert Burton’s The Anatomy of Melancholy references the work seventy-odd times; T. S. Eliot had particular opinions about it; and most elements of the modern satirical picaresque (à la Voltaire’s Candide) can be traced to the Satyricon, though its influence was largely obscured historically and had to be rediscovered.

I can’t say this was the most riveting adventure, but then the picaresque genre holds little interest for me in general. However, I do think it is an important work of antiquity that teaches, if not historical fact, then parody, travesty, and literary caricature. It’s a curious lesson: less funny, more outrageous. Are we humans that outrageous?

(The answer is yes.)

His fame is on a par with the grandeur of his work. It is a great pity that we only have some fragments of the entire work. This situation makes people feel a sense of loss and regret. The work, which was once so magnificent and complete, now exists only in these scattered fragments. However, even these fragments still show the extraordinary talent and creativity of the author. They are like precious gems, shining with a unique light. Although we cannot see the whole picture of the work, we can still imagine its splendor and magnificence through these fragments. We hope that one day, more complete versions of this work will be discovered, so that we can fully appreciate its charm and value.

Petronius was a Roman writer.

Indeed, during that era, he was a friend of Nero's, often seen in his entourage.

I suspect that Nero might have had him killed in the end, when Nero was on his typical paranoid-autocrat's rampage, eliminating everyone around him.

If you read this book, you'll understand why conservative Romans disliked Nero.

The story is filled with debauchery, hedonism, and is so openly gay in both meanings of the word.

What I particularly appreciate about this, aside from its exciting nature, is that it reveals to us in the post-Christian era what it was like before homosexuality was regarded as a sin.

Certainly, conservative Romans didn't have a great deal of affection for homosexuality, at least among the patrician class, but they didn't consider it a sin.

You can sense this by reading the book.

It's unique and strange to read about a time when the expression of same-sex feelings was so unrestricted.

♥ Encolpius & Giton ♥

In the year 60AD, there was a remarkable power couple that stood out - Encolpius and Giton.

Encolpius was a charming and intelligent young man with a certain allure. He had a quick wit and a penchant for adventure. Giton, on the other hand, was a beautiful and gentle youth. His presence added a touch of softness and grace to their relationship.

Together, they embarked on many escapades and encounters. They moved through the social circles of the time, attracting both admiration and envy. Their love and connection seemed unbreakable, and they were often seen as a symbol of passion and unity.

As the power couple of the year 60AD, Encolpius and Giton left an indelible mark on the history of that era. Their story continues to be told and remembered, captivating the imaginations of those who hear it.

A fugitive Roman and his slave/fuckboy end up in a country house where they witness feasting parties, orgies, and slave mistreatment.

If there had been some character development around this, perhaps I could have enjoyed that decadence even more. But since two-thirds of the story is not preserved, it is now mainly interesting from a cultural-historical perspective. For example, I now know all about classical healing rituals against impotence (the secret ingredient is stinging nettles).

Only that passage where the main character shaves himself to disguise himself from his former master but is then recognized by the shape of his penis works reasonably well as a standalone episode.

Perhaps a recommendation if you want to experience once that not every ancient text is an epic about bloody battles or tragic king murders. But if you are in need of a dose of Roman underwear humor, I would rather recommend Catullus.