Dear friends,
I’m excited to present to you this second post. In my prior entry, I mentioned how quickly time has passed, preventing me from completing a comprehensive series on the history of Halowe’en. Today, I’d like to delve into a particular aspect that, while not entirely my own words, draws heavily from Ovid’s beautiful storytelling and illustrates the significance of an essential Halloween element: the apple. Its roots can be traced most likely back to Roman times, so let’s explore this tale without delay.
Pomona and Vertumnus
The artwork “Pomona and Vertumnus” by Francesco Melzi (1517-20) beautifully encapsulates the narrative from Ovid’s Metamorphoses. In this story, Pomona, the goddess of fruit, becomes the object of affection for Vertumnus, the god of transformation. To win her heart, Vertumnus disguises himself as an old woman, arriving in Pomona’s grove to share his feelings. During this encounter, he uses the symbolism of the grapevine and the elm to emphasize the significance of companionship, suggesting that the vine needs the elm to thrive, just as they would benefit from each other’s presence. Persuaded by his words, Pomona yields to her emotions, and together they embrace love.
Vertumnus is a complex being, embodying various stages of time and historical influences. His appearance is dualistic: an old man’s face concealed beneath an old woman’s bonnet paired with youthful hands and feet, signifying his transformative nature. As Vertumnus arrives, his clothing appears to flutter, suggesting he has just come from elsewhere. He entwines the grapevine around the elm at his wrist, while tenderly touching Pomona’s shoulder, illustrating the moment he reveals his true identity. Even as she remains bashfully averted, Vertumnus gazes at her with passion.
The Romans began conquering much of Celtic territory, including present-day Great Britain, around 43 AD, bringing with them their own customs and festivals. One such celebration was dedicated to Pomona, who presided over fruit and harvest, occurring approximately around November 1st. This festival celebrating Pomona’s bountifulness likely melded with the Celtic Samhain festival. Thus, many Halloween customs associated with apples may trace back to Pomona’s feast.
Despite the romantic notion surrounding Pomona’s festival, no historical records definitively confirm its occurrence within Roman calendars, making its existence somewhat uncertain. Yet, the thought that partaking in apple cider or bobbing for apples links back to ancient Roman traditions is alluring.
While factual proof of Pomona’s festival remains elusive, the enchanting myths surrounding her enrich our connection to the past. Through my research, I found a captivating account of Pomona in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, and I’ve located a modern retelling to ease comprehension.
Excerpt from Metamorphoses, Book XIV: Vertumnus Courting Pomona
During the reign of a certain king, Pomona flourished, unmatched in her dedication to tending gardens. Unlike other wood nymphs of Latium, her love lay not with rivers or wooded expanses, but with the bounteous branches laden with ripe apples. Wielding a curved pruning knife, she meticulously nurtured the plants, carefully grafting saplings to ensure their vitality, and watering the parched roots throughout her orchard. Shielding herself from unwanted attention, she confined herself within her garden, rejecting the advances of suitors who sought her affections.
Among those who vied for her love were Satyrs, Pans crowned with pine, Silvanus, who was perpetually youthful, and even Priapus, the guardian of boundaries. Yet, Vertumnus stood out, disguising himself repeatedly in various roles—a farmer bearing a load of barley, a soldier ready to slay, or a gardener with shears and ladders. Each time, he would gain entry into her orchard, reveling in her beauty from afar.
On one occasion, donning the guise of an elderly woman with a headscarf and a gnarled stick, he was able to enter her garden. Expressing admiration for the fruits around her, he emphasized the importance of unity, noting that the elm represents a tree that requires the vine’s support, and vice versa. He lamented Pomona’s reluctance to embrace partnership, suggesting that unlike the elm and vine, she shuns marriage, despite the many suitors that desire her.
Vertumnus emphasized the folly of her choice, asserting that if she hoped for a rewarding fate, she should recognize Vertumnus as her ideal match, one who would cherish her steadfastly. He passionately insisted that his love for her was unwavering and sincere.
His heartfelt plea was interwoven with a cautionary tale—of Iphis, a boy of humble beginnings, who pined after the noblewoman Anaxarete. After unreciprocated affections and a tragic end, Iphis dies, leaving a haunting reminder of love’s pain. When Anaxarete witnesses his fate, her heart turns to stone in regret.
Upon finishing his tale, Vertumnus sheds the disguise and presents himself as the vibrant young god he is. Captivated by his appearance, Pomona shares in the burgeoning mutual attraction, culminating in a deeper connection.
