Wednesday, July 29, 2015

What is Vergil's Most Familiar Verse?


While aimlessly exploring Latin philology this morning, I stumbled on a rather curious quote. Hugh Andrew Johnstone Munro, a classical scholar at Cambridge wrote the following in 1859 [emphasis my own]:

"cara deum suboles, magnum Iovis incrementum (Virgil Ecl. iv, 49)
Probably no verse of Virgil is more familiar to his readers than the above." 
"Lucretius, Catullus, Vergil," P. 290, in Journal of Classical and Sacred Philology 4, Cambridge University Press (2012, originally published 1859).

As a philologist writing in 2015, this quote struck me as nearly bizarre, since I had actually never even seen this quote until I happened on it through accidental research.



I mean, if you asked me what verse of Vergil is most familiar to people generally, I would say, by way of the well-known quote, "Beware of Greeks bearing gifts," timeo Danaos et dona ferentes (Aeneid 2.49).

But if the question is, which verse is most familiar to his readers (meaning people reading it in Latin), it would be most difficult to answer.

Certainly, the famous first line of the Aeneid, arma virumque cano, I sing arms and the man (Aeneid 1.1) would warrant consideration.

Just off the top of my head another personal favorite might be forsan et haec olim meminisse juvabit, perhaps one day it will help to remember even these things (Aeneid 1.203). 

A scan through Wikiquotes for Vergil reminds me of many more:

Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori, Love conquers all, so let us yield to love (Ecl. 10.69)

audentes fortuna iuvat, Fortune helps those who dare (Aeneid 10.284)

sunt lacrimae rerum et mentem mortalia tangunt, These are the tears of things and mortal matters touch the mind (Aeneid 1.462)
Conington's translation is better, "E'en here the tear of pity springs, And hearts are touched by human things."

But what verse from Vergil does not appear at all on Wikiquote's list? The one that Munro states is the most familiar to Vergil's readers in 1859!

And here's the thing. We really shouldn't doubt Munro's opinion on this matter. He was then a considerably more accomplished classical scholar that I am now. He published that assertion in a well respected academic journal. If the statement would have been seen as bizarre by the editors, I would imagine it would not have made print even in 1859.

Which brings us to the curious apparent fact that we are reading Vergil quite differently today than they did in the mid-19th century. And a little research shows this, in fact, to be quite the case. 

In that same journal, Munro, reviewing Conington's then new edition of Vergil, wrote:

"...during the next half century, the reputation of the poet [Vergil] will stand much higher than it has done in that which has just elapsed, in the course of which it probably reached its nadir." (P. 286, Journal of Classical and Sacred Philology 4, 1859)

Frank M. Turner argues that a positive reassessment of the Emperor Augustus during the Victorian Age led to a parallel resurgence in interest for Vergil himself. (P. 297, "Virgil in Victorial classical contexts" in Contesting Cultural Authority: Essays in Victorian Intellectual Life, Cambridge University Press, 1993).

A rise in appreciation for Augustus likely also resulted in a new focus on the national epic Vergil wrote, commissioned by the Emperor himself. And in the course of time schoolchildren in Great Britain and the United States read Vergil's Aeneid as the pinnacle of their Latin education, and not, say, the Eclogues. I'm going to admit that, while I read the Aeneid in high school, and it's all of Vergil my Latin students ever see, I've never cracked open his other works at all.


Today's discovery makes me want to explore Vergil's Eclogues and Georgics. Apparently, for over a hundred years, many of us have really been missing something.


________________________________________________________________


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It's a bargain at 0.99 cents on Kindle (or affordably priced at $11.90 on paperback). 

You'll travel back to ancient Rome on a harrowing mission to save the modern world. It's the adventure of four lifetimes.

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Tuesday, July 28, 2015

The Sword of Julius Caesar

In the 2007 film The Last Legion, [spoiler alert, I'm about to give away the entire movie], a young Romulus Augustulus, dethroned as the final Roman Emperor in the West, finds the Sword of Julius Caesar hidden, mirabile dictu, on the Island of Capri, and travels to Britannia to locate the "Last Legion" of Rome. There's a final battle. The Romans win. And we find out that young Romulus is actually Uther Pendragon, the father of King Arthur. And the Sword of Julius Caesar, on which had been inscribed CAI • IVL • CAES • ENSIS CALIBVRNVS (Sword of Steel of Gaius Julius Caesar), is shown covered in moss, the only letters visible being ES CALIBVR. That's right, the Sword of Julius Caesar was Excalibur!




I actually enjoy the movie for what it is, and even show it to my Latin classes from time to time. I personally don't care if a

movie contains anachronisms or outright non-historical events. Either way I can make a teaching moment out of it.

And the movie has a surprisingly strong cast with Colin Firth, Ben Kingsley, Thomas Sangster, and Aishwarya Rai.






But the movie does raise the interesting question of what sort of sword Julius Caesar himself really would have used.

Geoffrey of Monmouth, the author of the 12th century AD Historia Regum Brittaniae (History of the Kings of Britain), describes Julius Caesar has having a notable sword when he

invaded that Island in 55 BC. He tells the story of how Julius Caesar was in single combat with a British prince named Nennius. When Caesar's sword got stuck in Nennius' shield, the Briton took control of it. In the ensuing battle, every person Nennius attacked with the Sword of Caesar died, either beheaded or mortally wounded. Unfortunately for Nennius, he himself had received a head wound from this same sword while fighting Caesar and died fifteen days later. Geoffrey of Monmouth tells us that Caesar's sword was named Crocea Mors, Latin for Yellow Death. And Crocea Mors was buried with Nennius (Historia Regum Brittaniae (4.3-4).

Even though Geoffrey of Monmouth is writing quite a long time after the events in question, the name of the sword he describes seems to preserve knowledge of a likely detail about the actual sword Julius Caesar would have used.

Many people assume that as soon as the Iron Age began, bronze weapons were replaced with the newer metal. But the fact is that iron is not really so superior to bronze that it won out based solely on its merits. Until later steel refinement became more commonplace, iron weapons had a number of disadvantages. They rusted. They lost their edge quicker. The only thing they had going for them was that they were cheaper than bronze. As a result, the common soldier would have been issued an iron sword, but people with money, such as the aristocratic Julius Caesar, would certainly have been carrying his own personal bronze sword. 

And so, what finally happened to the Sword of Caesar? The answer is, he probably had several of them, none of which he particularly favored. He probably lost some in battle from time to time. That's why he kept spares. And in the course of time they would have been melted down and repurposed. 

But if archaeologists in Britain ever dig up a 1st century BC Celtic tomb and find a bronze Roman gladius inside, there might just be a chance that the legend Geoffrey of Monmouth passed down had a basis in history.



________________________________________________________________


https://www.amazon.com/Saecula-Saeculorum-Keith-Massey/dp/0984343253?ie=UTF8&creativeASIN=0984343253&linkCode=w00&linkId=5WIF2DJM6ZHW3LFX&redirect=true&ref_=as_sl_pc_tf_til&tag=keitmassintea-20
If you're interested in Latin or ancient history, or even just an entertaining read, check out the time-travel thriller In Saecula Saeculorum. Click to learn more.



You'll travel back to ancient Rome on a harrowing mission to save the modern world. It's the adventure of four lifetimes.

________________________________________________________________



Friday, July 24, 2015

Fantastic Latin Themed Products!

I've dabbled in creating t-shirts, coffee cups, etc, on various themes. To this day I remain baffled as to why my Iguanodon Likes This idea did not make me a million dollars.

But I've stumbled today via Twitter on someone who has truly done Latin language themed merchandizing in a fashion that deserves promotion.

Meet Ginny Lindzey (@ginlindzey). She is a fellow Latin teacher and the inventory of products she has available on Cafe Press is simply extraordinary.

There's something for everyone. 

http://www.cafepress.com/animaaltera.1212192179


Here's a very nice design featuring classic quotes from Vergil's Aeneid. It's available, like all her products, in numerous other styles of clothing and items.



http://www.cafepress.com/animaaltera.1253181964


"Latin students never decline SEX."
That's a provocative statement, if you don't know Latin. Latin students, however, know that "to decline" means to produce the other case forms of a noun or adjective. And the numeral sex (six) is indeclinable, meaning it only has that one form. 


http://www.cafepress.com/animaaltera.1252834013

And if you love Catullus like I love Catullus, you will fancy Carmen 13 presented as it is on this t-shirt.

What I've shown here is just a tiny sample of Ginny's inventory. Please visit her site and explore the extensive and clever products available

Vivat Lingua Latina!

Linguistic Musings on Twinship

We were invited to dinner at the home of friends here in Romania, when one of their sons, Alex, dropped by. Alex and I have in common that we each have an identical twin. 

Here are my twin brother, Kevin, and I enjoying a cup of coffee. 

Now I speak excellent Romanian after ten years of considerable effort and forced immersion opportunities. But even so, there are native speaker instincts I simply don't have. As a result I will at times say something that no native speaker would.

I stumbled on a case of this in conversation with Alex. When I reference my twin, I frequently refer to him in English as "My Twin." But on two occasions last night, when I asked Alex about "geamănul tau" (your twin),  he asked me, "fratele meu" (my brother)? 

Now, I may reference Kevin as "my twin brother," but I would never just reference him as "my brother," since that simply doesn't, for me, include a key detail about our relationship. 

But Alex seemed to be unaccustomed to using the singular word geamăn. He certainly knows that together they are gemeni, but he consistently just calls him brother/frate.

I puzzled over this and asked my Romanian wife about this. And she felt that the singular as a substantive is not really used in Romanian. She indicated that a native Romanian would probably describe their family in terms such as, "And I have a brother Kevin. We're twins (suntem gemeni)" and not "And I have a twin named Kevin." Another option would be to use the word as an adjective and say, "fratele meu geamăn" (my twin brother).

I did a little research into the Latin antecedent of the Romanian and it really seems that the Romanian instinct is preserving the parent faithfully. Geminus in Latin is an adjective that describes something as "twinned." You have, for instance, the famous quote from Horace about starting stories in medias res (in the middle of things) and not ab ovo:

nec gemino bellum Troianum orditur ab ovo
Nor is the Trojan War recounted from the twin egg
(i.e., starting from the story of how Helen of Troy was born from a twin egg after her mother Leta was seduced by Jupiter in the form of a goose) 
Horace, Ars Poetica, 147

Here are my twin and I out on the town in matching jackets!

Now, there  are cases in which geminus in the singular describes a human twin, but always as an adjective:

soror gemina
A twin sister
Plautus. Mil. 2.4.30

Hic eius geminust frater
This is his twin brother 
Plautus Pers. 5.2.49

Geminus is only used as a full substantive in the plural:

Servilii, qui gemini fuerunt
The Servilii, who were twins
Cicero Ac. 2.18.56

But this got me to thinking about why the Latin geminus can be in the plural at all. Geminus should have been an excellent candidate for preserving the archaic dual. As we have it, the dual survives in Latin only in the words duo (two) and ambo (both). And the reason it got preserved there is that those are both words which, by pure definition, only occur in twos. But don't twins also, by definition occur in twos?

Perhaps the answer lies in the fact that the word geminus, originally meaning twinned, was also put in service to describe further multiple births. Note, for instance, the famous Horatii and Curiatii are described by Livy (1.24.1) as trigemini fratres (triplet brothers).

Finally, for no academic reason whatsoever, here are my twin and I at our cousin's "purple-themed wedding." Hey, we were already dressed in purple. Someone had left some purple wigs lying around. It was not an opportunity to waste. I guess it's a twin thing.







Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Deșteaptă-te, române!

The Romanian National Anthem, Deșteaptă-te, române!, is, my opinion, one of the most moving songs ever written.

The melody is hauntingly beautiful, and the lyrics stir a combination of nostalgic longing and hope for the future.



On my recent album, Vivamus, Amemus, Oremus, I include my version of this gorgeous song.  You can listen to it for free and see an English translation of the lyrics in this video and stream it on Spotify or download it on iTunes or Amazon.










Tuesday, July 7, 2015

She Walks in Beauty, Like the Night

Lord Byron's, She Walks in Beauty, is a lovely piece of poetry, filled with rich and emotional imagery.

Here is the poem.

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies,
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meets in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress
Or softly lightens o'er her face,
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek and o'er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,—
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent.


On my recent album, Vivamus, Amemus, Oremus, I include an original song which uses She Walks in Beauty for its lyrics. You can listen to it for free in this video and stream it on Spotify or download it on iTunes or Amazon.





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