Would Ovid’s chat-up line work? (Classics, Oxford)

The title of Ovid’s 2,000-year-old poem Ars Amatoria is usually translated as ‘The Art of Love’, but that makes it sound rather too refined and heady. It’d be better translated as The Lover’s Guide, or retitled 57 Steps to Seduction, because it’s far more down-to-earth, and reads more like an instructional manual than a highbrow discourse on romance. In fact, it’s not so very different from the ‘helpful’ guides to getting a girl (or boy) you see online, complete with brief videos to show the techniques in action. Even the kind of instructions Ovid gives are not so different, right down to their essentially sexist premise. In the hands of a ruthless editor, and tarted up with some flip ironic straplines, some of Ovid’s advice could even make it into the pages of Loaded or a downmarket girl’s mag.

But that bit about the editor is crucial. Reduce the Ars to just the basic instructions and you’ve lost what makes Ovid’s poem great. The Ars Amatoria has sustained interest for 2,000 years not because of the effectiveness of its advice but because it’s written in sparkling Latin verse, with the wit, wordplay and rhythm that puts Ovid among the finest poets of all time. Even though the content is lowbrow, it seduces the ear of those familiar with Latin with its brilliant craftsmanship in the same way that Mozart can entrance with just a simple but uniquely perfect melody. In the face of Ovid’s consummate poesy, its success as a guide to bedroom consummation becomes (almost) redundant. And of course the liberal lacings of classical references continually reveal Ovid’s intelligence and erudition in a way that no modern instruction manual ever would.

Actually, the classical references hint at another purpose of Ovid’s, which is not necessarily picked up by all readers. To me, the poem is quite clearly tongue-in-cheek. It’s a send-up of both the great epic poems of the ancient world and of high-flown ideas of romance. Maybe his urbane readers are never going to experience the thrill of an Achilles wielding his mighty weapon in conflict outside Troy but they can become heroes instead in the battle of the sexes, and learn to be expert soldiers in the field of seduction.

Principio, quod amare velis, reperire labora,
Qui nova nunc primum miles in arma venis.

(‘First, the girl you desire to love, you must strive to encounter,

You who are taking up arms now as a soldier of love.’)

And love is not something between gods and goddesses, but a game you play with the girl you met at the circus or in the marketplace.

The poem’s attitude to women is, as you might expect, rather sexist, treating them as fair game to be tricked and seduced, and stressing the need for girls to dress up, shave their legs and prepare for their man. This is Ancient Rome after all. But it’s less condescending than many contemporary lads’ mags, and it’s leavened with a wit and consideration for women that is often far more appealing. And remarkably, Ovid devotes the entirety of the third book to helping women turn the tables and learn the tricks they need to catch and keep their chosen man. In some ways, behind the banter and the braggadocio, Ovid seems to be making a genuine plea for mutual fulfilment in relationships.

That said, just how effective are Ovid’s chat-up lines? Chat-up lines always get a bad press. Out of context, most sound so cheesy you’d be lucky if the girl or guy of your choice didn’t expire from nausea on the spot.¹

So you might guess that no chat-up lines really ‘work’, neither Ovid’s nor anyone else’s. The whole idea that a single line, or technique, is a sure-fire way to initiate any worthwhile relationship, seems absurd, and anyone trying them – or falling for them – seems rather desperate.

And yet there are (not entirely scientific) pieces of research occasionally reported in the tabloids, and even psychological journals, that suggest that they do work on some level. They may not, if you’re a man, convince a girl that you’re husband or long-term boyfriend material, but with some girls, even the ripe Stilton versions may at least convince them that you have a sense of humour (or not) or that you’re confident (or not), both of which can be appealing in the short term. It all depends, of course, on the basic attraction, how you deliver the line, and how you follow up. Those same surveys suggest that a chat-up line, if it doesn’t bring instant rejection, is simply the opening gambit in a longer process of mutual exploration that preludes any kind of relationship. And this is where Ovid comes in.

In fact, Ovid doesn’t actually offer any glib chatup lines at all. What he does offer are tips on dating, and his dating advice seems pretty sound even today, if somewhat obvious. (Their appeal is in the way he introduces them.)

If you want to get a girl, Ovid says, you can’t just expect a girl to fall out of the sky; you have to put in the work and go out and look for one. He suggests good places to meet girls, such as the circus or theatre, and that’s pretty much as any dating adviser would say now, though they might ditch the circus and throw in an art gallery opening or a small music gig. Of course, Ovid didn’t have access to online dating sites.

Before you go to meet girls, or out on a date, Ovid says, make sure you’re clean – you don’t want to smell like a farmyard. Keep yourself well-groomed and fit – and trim that nose hair. All of this seems pretty sound advice too. He also advises you not to get too carried away by a girl or guy you see only by candlelight or when you’re drunk. In fact, most of his suggestions seem fairly sound even today. You might be better to avoid his suggestion, though, of proving your keenness when faced by a shut door by climbing into the lady’s house through the skylight or down the chimney. That way you’re most likely to end up in jail or at least with a restraining order. Some things were clearly very different in Ancient Rome.

In summary, Ovid gives you no better or worse advice on dating than pretty much any good modern dating guide; it’s the kind of advice that most people know anyway. But reading Ovid in Latin, if you can, is a whole lot more fun and elevating than reading a manual, I suspect. And saying you just read Ars Amatoria in the original Latin may be one of the most effective chat-up lines of all, with the right girl (and a complete turn-off for the wrong one). So maybe time to get conjugating …

Footnote

1 For example:

‘Are you an interior decorator? Because when I saw you, the entire room became beautiful.’

‘Are you religious? Because you’re the answer to all my prayers.’

‘Did you hurt yourself when you fell from heaven?’

‘Do you know the big difference between sex and conversation? [No.] Do you wanna go upstairs and talk?’

‘Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?’