DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.69400#0085
OUR ILLUSTRATIONS 59
the picture was exhibited, imagined, with par-
donable inaccuracy, that the seated figure play-
ing the lute, and which certainly, at first sight,
seems the most prominent, filled the title role.
Instead, this is Alcaeus, the man who desired
to gain the support of the mighty and gifted
Sappho, for a political scheme of which he
was the chief promoter. But besides being
a political rhymer, Alcaeus was also Sappho’s
lover, and as he is here rendered, it is the lover
who is most emphasized. Sappho herself sits
behind a species of desk, on which rests the
wreath, bound with ribands, that was the crown
of poets. She is robed in pale green and gray,
and in accordance with tradition, her raven
black hair is filleted with violets. Beside her
stands a young girl, her daughter, a sweetly
graceful form, less lovely than the mother, but
suggestive of maidenhood’s enchantments. The
poetess is seated on the lowest tier of the marble
triple-rowed exedra, on which, at a respectful
distance, are also disposed some of the pupils
of her school. Dark, wide-branched fir trees
spread their crowns above this bench. We are
made to realize that their trunks are rooted far
below, there where the deep blue sea, shim-
mering in the background, laps the earth that
the picture was exhibited, imagined, with par-
donable inaccuracy, that the seated figure play-
ing the lute, and which certainly, at first sight,
seems the most prominent, filled the title role.
Instead, this is Alcaeus, the man who desired
to gain the support of the mighty and gifted
Sappho, for a political scheme of which he
was the chief promoter. But besides being
a political rhymer, Alcaeus was also Sappho’s
lover, and as he is here rendered, it is the lover
who is most emphasized. Sappho herself sits
behind a species of desk, on which rests the
wreath, bound with ribands, that was the crown
of poets. She is robed in pale green and gray,
and in accordance with tradition, her raven
black hair is filleted with violets. Beside her
stands a young girl, her daughter, a sweetly
graceful form, less lovely than the mother, but
suggestive of maidenhood’s enchantments. The
poetess is seated on the lowest tier of the marble
triple-rowed exedra, on which, at a respectful
distance, are also disposed some of the pupils
of her school. Dark, wide-branched fir trees
spread their crowns above this bench. We are
made to realize that their trunks are rooted far
below, there where the deep blue sea, shim-
mering in the background, laps the earth that