[In the essay below, Krauss maintains that Martial's early and continuing failure to find a generous, sympathetic patron led to deep personal resentment and a proclivity for satire. The critic also speculates about why Martial's acerbic verses were so popular with his contemporary audience.]

Marcus Valerius Martialis, the son of Celtic parents, migrated to Rome from Bilbilis, his birthplace, in Hispania Tarraconensis in A.D. 64, when he was already in or approaching his middle twenties. The incentive, doubtless, was the quite natural desire of an aspiring provincial writer to realize his literary ambitions in the city which was the cultural, as well as the political, center of the empire. It appears that soon after his arrival he not only gained the patronage of his eminent and well-to-do fellow countrymen, Seneca the Philosopher, the latter's brothers, Gallio and Mela, and the poet Lucan, Mela's son, but also that through them he came to the favorable notice of Calpurnius Piso, a prominent representative of one of the oldest and most distinguished Roman gentes. Certainly he was justified in believing that under these auspicious beginnings he could embark in his career amply provided with the sort of social entrée and freedom from pecuniary cares that Vergil, Horace, and Propertius had enjoyed through the bounty of Maecenas. It is not likely that he was aware that in the emperor's greedy and jealous mind all these sponsors were already suspect. His prospects, however enviable they may have appeared to him, were destined to be short-lived, indeed, for in the following year (A.D. 65) these supporters were swept away because of their real or alleged participation in Piso's conspiracy against the life of Nero.

What a severe shock Martial suffered through this abrupt reversal of his expectations and to what social humiliation he thereby was exposed are reflected in the significant silence which he maintained regarding the events of his life during the succeeding fifteen years of his residence at Rome. Doubtless these were for him years of bitter disappointment and of gross disillusionment, years spent in observing and experiencing the seamy side of a morally bankrupt society. From his later writings we can readily deduce that he must have felt degraded by the necessity of having to associate competitively with that large and heterogeneous army of freeborn citizens whom economic circumstances or overweening ambition impelled to search perennially for patronal support in quarters high and low.

Accordingly, when his hopes for an early and brilliant career faded through his failure to find a liberal and sympathetic patron, and as his provincial 'simplicitas' was repeatedly and incurably bruised by the callous sophistication of the imperial city, he evolved into a confirmed satirist. His native Celtic wit and passion were stimulated into protest against the prevalent snobbishness and demoralizing superficiality of an age which recognized mercenary gain and political advancement as the sole criteria of achievement. The denial of the dignity of the individual and of the freedom of individual expression created a multitude of social injustices that only the pen of the satirist could adequately attack. To this dubiously popular form of literature Martial was impelled by his chargin and attracted by his peculiar genius.

The fact that Martial determined the function of the Latin epigram is a commonplace of literary history. It is of more immediate interest to us to know that, in spite of the inevitable carping of critics, his caustic verses had an inherent attraction for the rank and file of the reading public. We can understand why this was so, since the epigrams are comparable in their psychological appeal to our cartoons and comic strips. The sensational novelty of his themes and particularly of his treatment of these depended on a synthesis of factors that was Martial's own: his almost complete pre-occupation with a merciless and frequently indiscreet expose of Roman foibles; his extensive use of trenchant wit to relieve otherwise unpleasant observations; and his ingenious practice of reserving the element of surprise to the last verse, or even the last word, of the epigram. Since his avowed purpose was to portray Roman life realistically, he delighted and dismayed by turns, through the range and accuracy of his thumbnail sketches, individuals and social groups as they beheld others or themselves pitilessly caricatured.

What, then, did Martial's readers find so amusing, so piquant and provocative, in his verses? He catered to the Italic propensity to laugh at physical defects by his burlesque representation of smooth-pated Labienus, Phoebus, and Marinus (5.49; 6.57; 10.83), of sparse-toothed Aelia, Maximina, and Picens (1.19; 2.41; 8.57), of one-eyed Thais, Lycoris, and Philaenis (3.8, 11, 39; 2.33; 4.65; 12.22), or full-breasted Spatale (2.52), of the physical degeneration of Afra, Vetustilla, and Lesbia who refused to act their obvious ages (1.100; 3.93; 10:39), and of Phoebus whose legs were so bowed that they resembled the horns of the moon (2.35).

Undoubtedly, Martial won the applause of many readers by his denunciation cap-a-pie of the 'bellus homo' (1.19; 3.63), that dandified pest of questionable sex whose activities the depravity of the age encouraged. Similarly, he ridiculed other only slightly less offensive male types: the man who is careful to make a great show of being exceedingly busy, although actually he accomplishes nothing (1.79); the person who dabbles neatly in everything, yet fails to do anything well (2.7); the old busybody who disgraces his grey hairs by roaming up and down the town to feed his insatiable curiosity (4.78); the chronic whisperer who makes such pretense of imparting important information (1.89; cf. 3.28); the foreign fop who assumes a distasteful air of familiarity (10.65); the bounder who turns expensive shops inside out, yet ultimately purchases only two inexpensive articles and even carries them off in his own hands (9.59); the well dressed bluffer who attempts to occupy a seat in the theater to which his social rank does not entitle him (5.8, 14, 23; 5.25. 1-2; 5.35.5); the defaulter who is brazenly indifferent to his obligations (1.75, 98; 2.3, 13, 58; 8.10; cf. 4.15); and the boor who boasts of his urbanity (1.41; cf. 6.44).

Martial also lampooned physicians (1.30, 47; 5.9; 6.53; 8.74; 9.96; cf. 6.70.1-6), lawyers (1.97; 6.35; 8.7, 17; cf. 5.33), and auctioneers (1.85; 5.56. 10-1; 6.8), because, no doubt, he envied them their superior incomes from vocations which he regarded as inferior to his own. He stigmatized husbands and wives who disposed of one spouse after another by manifestly criminal means (8.43; 9.15, 78; 10.43; cf. 4.69; 10.16[151]). In an age of "emancipated women," he denounced the penalty that one incurred by marrying a rich woman, namely, the forfeiture of a husband's rights (8.12; 9.95).

These inimitable characterizations of universally recognizable types are on the amusing or shocking side of human relations. Decidedly more subjective both in motivation and approach are Martial's attacks on individuals who made a false pretense to riches (2.57; 5.35), and particularly on those wealthy persons who made a shabby use of their means. Whereas the sentiments expressed in these outcries of exasperation are clearly enough Martial's own, they must have been seconded heartily by many free-born Romans who were hopelessly enmeshed in the economic toils of the time.

Rome is an inhospitable place, indeed, Martial asserts (3.38 cf 12.51; 4.5 cf. Iuv. 3.21-4), to the poor man who has nothing more to recommend him than an honest ambition to succeed. If you are. poor, you will always be poor, since wealth is bestowed on none but the wealthy (5.81). In fact, the existence of a poor and upright man at Rome is a matter of sheer fortuity (3.38.14; cf. 3.30. 5-6). Though the indigent should not envy those who can make a display of fine attire, sedan chairs and carriers, large retinues of clients, and of grand homes served by a legion of slaves, only with the aid of the pawnbroker (2.57), yet they have much reason to decry the irresponsible and irresponsive wealthy.

Consider the millionaire who once was approachable and generous to his friends but who, now that his fortune has increased fivefold, has been transformed into the most despicable sort of miser (1.99; cf. 1.103; 4.51). Even more infuriating is the man of means who pompously mouths fine phrases to the effect that he ever stands ready to assist a needy friend, but who never gives a much-needed gift to an obviously impecunious client (2.43; 7.92; cf. 10.15[141]). How shameless, too, are some men of property who cite the costs of their endless building projects as an excuse for refusing to grant a loan (9.22, 46). Equally aggravating is the 'rex' who keeps a client on tenterhooks by neither rejecting outright a request for a loan nor acceding to it without further ado (7.43; cf. 2.25; 10.17[161]). Condone, if you can, the inhumanity of creatures such as Mancinus who persists in keeping his helplessly poor friends informed of every increase in his already large fortune (4.61).

How contemptible, moreover, is the practice of many rich hosts who deliberately insult their dinner guests by serving them food and wine inferior to that which they themselves openly consume (1.20; 3.49, 60; 4.68, 85; 6.11; 10.49; 12.27[281]). What an exhibition of gluttony there is in high places (3.32; 10.31; 11.86; 12.17), the while a vaga turba of dinner hunters crowds the baths, taverns, colonnades and Forum in desperate search of an invitation to partake, at the least, of the leavings from the rich man's table (2.11, 14, 27, 69; 5.47; 12.82).

Why, in fact, should self-respecting free men, simply because they are poor, be forced as clients to dance attendance, year in and year out (3.36, 46; 10.56, 74), on patrons who grudgingly requite this attention with a mere pittance (3.7, 14; 4.26; 6.88; 9.100), or, worse still, with an unsatisfying dinner (1.43; 2.19; 3.12; 7.48)? Furthermore, what chance does a poor client have to improve his status by this form of service, when actually he must compete with senators and consuls for the notice and favors of wealthy nobodies (10.10; 12.291261), and must abase himself by being a client even to a client (2.18)? However lordly the patron may be, he is habitually slow to recognize his clients' need of new and seasonable clothing (2.85; 5.26; 7.36; 10.76), and thus carelessly subjects them to ridicule and embarrassment (2.58; 6.82). It is not surprising, therefore, that the indigent client and the money-lender are acquaintances of long standing (2.44.3-4).

Naturally, Martial did not stimulate the hearts of many patrons to generosity by such tactless and indiscriminate, albeit truthful, censure. His precarious income remained small, because he was too pert toward those who worshiped wealth and position, too clever in mocking those who were inflated with unwarranted pride, too outspoken against a degrading and degraded system of social dependence. Either he could not or would not see the glaring fact that the economic instability and the political tyranny of the time had made the fortunate few unconscionably hard and self-centered. Consequently, he contradicted his chances of improving his position by flouting the very sources from which alone amelioration could come. He departed too often from his canon of "sparing the person, denouncing the vice" (10.33.9-10) by denouncing the person and publishing the vice.

Under the adverse conditions which the inadequate system of 'clientela'. imposed on the poor 'white-collar' constituents of Roman society, Martial fretted and fumed for thirty-four years; against its inflexible demands and distinctions he hurled the epigrammatic barbs of his satire. He stubbornly persisted in believing that by the merits of his literary efforts he eventually could arouse the unresponsive 'Zeitgeist' to acknowledge his right to handsome patronal support. Yet, leisure that was firmly secured against petty pecuniary worries he never acquired (10.58.6-10); and even his fame as a poet, he bitterly admitted in later years, was no more widespread than that of the race horse Andraemon (10.9; cf. 1.1.4-6; 1.61; 5.13.3-10; 7.88). As the years dragged on without bringing an appreciable improvement in his economic status, he was forced to recognize that, whereas Rome had accepted and acclaimed him, she had no intention of rewarding him on his own terms. In fact, so completely had he become inured to the rôle in which circumstance and his own disposition had cast and confined him that, even though there was a sharp improvement in the social and economic outlook at Rome through the accession of Nerva and of Trajan, he lacked the will to renew the struggle for what had been denied him so long. He may. have perceived in a moment of poignant consciousness that he could not under any emperor, whether good or bad, surmount the obstacle of his own satiric temperament or control the irresistible dictates of his peculiar genius.

Accordingly, as the unremitting and unremunerative duties of client estranged Martial from Rome (12.68), so an increasing nostalgia for the friends and places of his youth drew this proud provincial home (4.55; 10.13[201]). The deliberate manner in which he made his departure suggests a man who is embarking on a journey from which he does not expect to return. He made his adieus, commissioned his friend Flavus who was preceding him to Spain to procure for him a small and inexpensive retreat near Bilbilis (10.104.12-5), heralded his return after an absence of thirty-four years with a somewhat lofty greeting to his townsmen (10.103), and eagerly looked forward to recapturing a life of simple ease in a congenial environment far removed from the scene of his prolonged disappointment (10.96; cf. 1.49.27-36; 10.47).

Yet, when he was comfortably established in the house and on the land which a Spanish lady, Marcella, had provided for him (12.18, 31), he missed the libraries, the theaters, the public squares, the crowds, the incentive to literary activity, in short, the vibrant stimulation of the metropolis (12. Introd. Ep.). Moreover, as he rather had anticipated (10.103.11-2), he found most of his provincial neighbors, with the notable exception of Marcella (12.21), uninteresting, envious, and spiteful, and, therefore, felt all the more acutely the separation from his intimate friends at Rome (12. Introd. Ep.; 12.34).

Most probably, Martial believed that his ill-starred Fortune by having again introduced a mirage of unsubstantial prospects had tricked him quite as maliciously upon his return to Spain as she had during the first years of his residence at Rome. His unreflective mind failed to uncover the essential fact that through the unrestrained exercise of his wit he had purchased popularity at the expense of both propriety and affection, and that he had emphasized Rome's social evils without searching sincerely for their correction. His personal chagrin and resentment rather than a genuine hatred of the wrongs of the age accounts for the almost total absence of moral tone in his work. Whether this deficiency would have been avoided, if his early prospects had materialized, is purely a matter of conjecture. It is possible that under such conditions we might have had another Juvenal, but certainly not another Horace. For Martial's insistence (1.107; 8.55[56]; 11.3) that literature of the more elevated sort can be produced only with favorable patronal support reflects a certain meanness of character, inertia of the creative will, and misconception of literary motivation.

One cannot fail to detect a deep-seated feeling of frustration operating throughout the body of Martial's epigrams. Yet, it is to this negative goad to his genius that we are indebted for the most intimate and comprehensive survey of Roman society in the early empire. Martial's merits as a poet are his keen eye, sharp stylus, and rare faculty for delineation. These literary virtues more than offset his deficiencies as a man.