Latin and Elitism

So the whole point of this site is that I'm enough of a Latin nerd to want to share my translations, rants and general Latin appreciation with anyone who stumbles onto this site. I really do love Latin literature. I think it's amazing; it gave us some of our greatest speakers, politicians and poets.

However, I've been thinking about what I call a universe-model recently - how one's model of the universe is built up - and I've been thinking about the models we are all given. I consider most, particularly in the sphere of politics, to be outright lying to us - and yet it is difficult, if not impossible, to change them or to think beyond them...It saddens me that we live in lies and may have little or no power to change that.

So what has all of this got to do with Latin? Well, part of the universe-model most of us have is that "the classics" - Greek and Roman things - are great. No question about it. And it's all bound up with what, essentially, a bunch of dead rich white guys think. They had the influence (particularly in Europe), so they dictated what the universe-models should say and passed these models down. That's what came out of discussions I was having about this, at least.

And that really got me thinking about elitism - about whether our appreciation for the classics is elitist, about whether learning Latin itself is elitist. As a Latin lover, these questions trouble me and I must do my best to answer them honestly.

There is no doubt that there are many elitist elements to Latin in that most of what we have in Classical Latin was written by, for or about the elite; Classical Latin itself was a written and declaimed language, not a spoken one, and as such it is bound to be more formal and artificial. Much poetry in Classical Latin is aimed at an educated and therefore presumably rich audience - they would get all the references to various things. Indeed, shows of erudition are very much a part of Latin literature. As it was mostly the rich who would be able to understand or write such things, then yes - Latin literature is absolutely steeped in elitism.

The teaching of Latin and its links to elitism are perhaps more well-known; it was a sign of a "good education" that the poor could not get. Oxford and Cambridge, the two most elite universities, used to require Latin for entry. I could give more examples, but you get the idea.

So far, the situation doesn't look good for Latin; the language itself is soaked through with elitism and its teaching has a long and nasty history of being very much an elitist subject. Does that mean that the study of Latin and the classics is inherently elitist? Should we all stop learning it?

I'm going to go off on a tangent now and say this: I like Roman architecture (well, what's left of it - I think it's absolutely amazing in its aesthetics and how long it's lasted) and history (powerful, rich bastards stabbing each other in the back - who needs TV?). Roman historiography is absolutely shit in terms of objectivity, though, and I don't really care for Roman art.

As for Latin literature, part of the classics and therefore regarded as great? Let me be entirely honest with you: I used to not much like classical literature at all. I found the style too clunky and heavy and just left it well alone - the same as I do with Victorian literature, for example. I don't read Greek, so I still tend to give that more of a miss than I should do (though I'd probably disagree with a lot of the philosophy, for example, I'm still missing out on a lot of ideas), but I enjoy Latin literature more now that I understand the language and can read it for myself in the original, albeit with a lot of hard slog. It's all really to do with how Latin and English are vastly different languages and how the literature reflects that; Latin uses a lot of participles and adjectives to describe and evoke a situation, while in English doing the same sounds clunky - it prefers a flowing style that in Latin might read too simply. Similarly, Latin prose (particularly Tacitus) can get mired in long sentences and complex grammar constructions meant to show erudition. In English, that wouldn't work at all - again, a flowing style and mid-length sentences to get the meaning across are more important than trying to be creative with constructions.

Now I come to the crux of my argument, a direct rebuttal of the notion that learning Latin is elitist. This rests on the idea that learning something associated with the rich is itself elitist, or that learning itself is elitist. That is fallacious and dangerous; just because something has been associated with elitism in the past does not actually mean that it's elitist, and more to the point, learning itself is not inherently elitist. Education is not elitist. It allows for upward social mobility, for a start. Even if that weren't true - even if it didn't have that effect - education itself would not be elitist, but the restriction of education to the privileged would be. See the difference?

Another argument against Latin, used in conjunction with the elitism argument, is that of irrelevance. Latin's dead, they say, and nobody uses it any more. Only toffs have any interest in it!

Well, guess what - I'm not a toff. I have a terrible, hard-edged accent and I hail from the heart of bourgeois blandness. I don't have the money or the connections that a true toff would. Relatively privileged middle-class girl? Yes. Anywhere close to the elite? No. But I have interest in Latin - enough interest to start an entire blog devoted to it!

Is that because it's actually relevant? Well...no. It's useful for learning about language, tropes, love, vulgarity and rhetoric, yes, but that's not the reason I translate and appreciate. It's because - shock horror! - I enjoy this, and I do it purely for the sake of my passion. No other reason. None at all.

There's this terrible notion in the modern world, if not before ng to grasp at scientific straws, not really.modern world came about - I really don't know enough about these things - that everything must have some kind of function or relevance. If it doesn't, its existence I spit on that notion! Not everything in life has to be relevant or have a function. Think of hobbies - painting, strolling in the green woods, playing music. Are any of these things functional? Well, unless you're going to grasp at straws, not really. We do those things because we enjoy them, not because they make us more productive or better workers. We do these things because they make us better or happier people, and our lives would be the poorer without them. The world could get by fine without the study of Latin, I suppose; our infrastructure would still work. But we'd have lost entire cultures by not understanding this language. We'd have lost Ovid, Catullus, Horace, Virgil, Suetonius, Tacitus, Livy, Lucilius, Lucan, Caesar, Sallust, Cicero, Dio Cassius, Cornelius Gallus, Ennius, and so many others. That may not seem like much to you, but we'd have lost so much knowledge right there. We've lost so much already; we can't figure out Etruscan, for example. Our languages are dying out because no-one bothers to learn them anymore, and with that you lose culture and perspective. You lose a part of what makes the world what it is. Maybe that doesn't seem like a big deal to you, but to a person who seeks to understand the world - a person like me - it's not just a big deal, it's a tragedy.

So no, the study of Latin is not elitist. Restricting access to it would be. As for its relevance? Unless you go on to academia, not very - but it's fun and tells us more about the world. It's something you can take with you for life, like art or music - and no-one claims that studying those is elitist. (They claim it's pointless, but they're wrong.) So if you can have your art and music, can we have our Latin?

Hold on, and prepare yourself for more favourable days

"Durate et vosmet rebus servate secundis."

The title really isn't an exact translation - it's something one of my classmates came up with when pressed - but it serves and it is adequate. It's also one of very few inspirational-sounding things I can actually stand, and in context it is actually meant to be inspirational: it rounds off a rousing talk Aeneas gives to his men as they rest and seek shelter in an inlet off the African coast after escaping a storm sent by Juno (epics have complex plots rooted in complex myths).

It's a good line - very spondaic (made up of long syllables) to emphasise that one must plod on, even if the journey's hard, and "durate" (hold on) is emphatically positioned at the beginning of the line, stressing the importance of endurance above all else; "secundis" (roughly meaning favourable) is also emphatically positioned at the end of the line and highlights the reward for endurance.

The two lines following it are also good:
talia voce refert, curisque intentibus aeger
spem vultu simulat, premit altum corde dolorem.

Roughly (and less strangely - Latin has some weird poetic phrases) they translate as:
Speaking such things, though sick with huge cares
he feigns hope on his face, he presses his deep grief in his heart.

It's a beautiful dark phrase, showing that Aeneas can and does say one thing and think another; I like dark undertones. I like the contrast between his message to his men encouraging hope, while he himself is weighed down with worries and pain, and how Virgil brings it out so well.

"aeger" (sick) is emphatically positioned at the end of the line, stressing the fact that Aeneas is sick with huge cares (carisque ingentibus), and "spem" is also emphatically positioned at the beginning of the next line, perhaps raising the audience's spirits before revealing that Aeneas is actually feigning (simulat) this hope. It also makes a nice contrast with another emphatically positioned word in the line, "dolorem" (grief), which by being placed right at the end of the line emphasises that for all the happy faces he puts on, Aeneas is profoundly grieved. His "corde" (heart) is also positioned between "altum" (deep) and "dolorem" in the line, showing how Aeneas's heart is (quite literally) in the middle of all this deep grief.

Ille regit

"ille regit dictis animos et pectora mulcet"

He rules people's minds with his words and softens their hearts.

If you know anything at all about Latin, this is not strictly speaking a literal translation - but it's rough and it gets the meaning across. It's from Book I of the Aeneid and actually refers to Neptune calming the sea after Juno asks Aeolus to release his winds upon Aeneas's fleet in return for taking the nymph Deiopea as wife and Neptune gets massively pissed off - not because he likes Aeneas, but because he dislikes Aeolus and his winds tearing up the realm that is rightfully his. As for why Juno dislikes Aeneas? Because he's a Trojan (Juno is pissed off at Troy because of the Judgement of Paris) and because Romulus, founder of Rome (which later destroys Carthage, the city Juno is said to love most in the Aeneid), is a direct descendant of his.

Yeah, ancient mythology is complex as fuck, Aeneas does some truly stupid things (which is apparently part of Virgilian humour - the poet himself liked his references and wordplay, including puns, as well, and is also supposed to make Aeneas more human and therefore more like an actual relatable man instead of a standard hero), and as for the gods? They're a large, incestuous, dysfunctional and utterly capricious family.

The saddest thing is that this isn't even my field.

Anyway, what was I talking about?...Yes, this quote describes Neptune, but some (for which read my academic tutor at the JACT Latin Summer School) believe that it's set up to eventually describe Aeneas, hence why I included it.

Speaking of my tutor, he has a thing about Virgil - he really does. He's trying to convince us that Virgil is the greatest Roman poet. Now, don't get me wrong - Virgil is great; his descriptions, for example, are breathtaking and much better in Latin than they ever could be (for various reasons to do with the way the languages work) in English. But I find that the Aeneid can also be very staid, in a way, with its preaching of pietas (essentially, super patriotism) and the view that it's just a propaganda vehicle for the Augustan regime, if a particularly elaborate and well-written one. Give me some Ovid any day; give me his wit, his wisdom, his passion, and his mockery. Give me all his talent with none of that adherence to outdated ideals. Sure, his work annoys me at times - I've admitted this - but for all that it doesn't take itself seriously, and that makes it more tolerable.

Of Pyrrha

Image is Ask me no more (1906) by Lawrence Alma-Tadema - very much the classical Victorians-in-togas painter, but worth a look if you like Classics. His paintings are also generally very accurate, which is a plus.

Right. Originally, I assumed I was going to do a nice, normal post, with no original text and a lovely translation. However, the syntax is all over the place here, I want to show you some of my translation methods, and thus I'll leave the original text here highlighted in all sorts of strange colours, which show which parts of speech go with what - particularly helpful when the syntax is not obvious or straightforward, as it rarely is in Latin. Of course, my actual translation is below, so you can just skip to that.

Quis multa gracilis te puer in rosa
perfusus liquidis urget odoribus
grato, Pyrrha, sub antro?
cui flavam religas comam,

simplex mundiitis? heu quotiens fidem
mutatosque deos flebit et aspera
nigris aequora ventis
emirabitur insolens,

qui nunc te fruitur credulus aurea,
qui semper vacuam, semper amabilem
sperat, nescius aurae
fallacis. miseri, quibus

intempta nites! me tabula sacer
votiva paries indicat uvida
suspendisse potenti
vestimenta maris deo.

Who is the slender youth, drenched in liquid scent,
embracing you beneath a pleasing cave
on many a rose, Pyrrha?
For whom do you tie up your golden hair,

simple in your elegance? Ah, how many times will he mourn faith
and the changed gods and, unaccustomed, he will wonder at
the rough open seas
with black winds,

who now, trustful, enjoys you golden,
who hopes that she will be always free, always lovable,
ignorant of the deceitful golden one.
Miserable are they for whom

you shine untouched! The sacred wall
with its votive tablet shows
that I hung up my wet clothes
to the powerful god of the sea.

Propertius

"cuncta tuus sepelivit amor, nec femina post te
ulla dedit collo dulcia vincla meo." (III.15.11-12)

Your love has buried all others, and no woman after you has given sweet chains to my neck.

Sorry for not having posted much - I've had my exams and really not done much translation, but I hope to do more. This is just a quick quote from Propertius that constantly keeps getting stuck in my head, even though I haven't really read any Propertius yet.

I'm not dead yet and neither is my passion for Latin; both are alive and kicking, as the old chestnut would have it. I just need time and energy.

Non ego, ne pecces, cum sis formosa, recuso

I won't lie; I think Ovid is annoying as hell sometimes and also a bit paranoid about women cheating. All the same, this poem, which should be (and is) rather irritating, still manages to make me enjoy it despite myself. I do love his lighter writing - it's very pleasant and almost sweet in a way.

Because you're beautiful, I don't protest that you shouldn't sin,
but that it should not be inevitable for me to know about, miserable;
and my criticism doesn't order you to become chaste,
but, however, it asks that you try to conceal it.
She does not sin, whoever can deny she sinned,
and the fault professed alone makes her infamous.
Who is angry that you confess in daylight that which lies hidden by the night
and you mention them openly as having been made these things which you may do secretly?
A courtesan, about to join her body to an unknown citizen
moves people away by the door-bar set in the way beforehand;
you'll set up for all to see your sins for vicious rumour
and you'll completely go through the evidence of your offence?
Let the mind be better for you, or at least copy the chaste,
let me think you're honest, though you won't be.
Do these, which you do; only deny you've done them,
I spoke modest words, and let it not shame you before me!
There's the sort of place that demands badness; fill it with
all types of delights, let modesty stand far away then!
Once you've left this place, straightaway let all immoral behaviour
be absent, and lay aside your crimes on your bed.
Nor let laying aside your tunic in that place be for shame for you
nor supporting a thigh laid onto a thigh;
There let your tongue be buried in crimson lips,
and let love shape Venus in a thousand ways;
and there let neither voices nor delighting words cease work,
and let the bed's frame shake with playful agility!
Put on a face dreading accusations with your tunic,
and let a sense of shame deny indecent business;
give to the people, deceive me; please let me be mistaken, not knowing,
and let enjoying my foolish trustfulness be allowed!
Why do I so often see letters sent and received?
Why has the first of and inner of the bed been pressed down?
Why do I catch sight of hair being disturbed more than it would have been by
sleep and her neck has love bites?
You only don't lead down your crime to my eyes themselves;
if you hesitate to have consideration for your reputation, have consideration for me!
My mind goes away and I die as often as you confess to having sinned,
and the blood runs cold through my body.
Then I love, then I hate in vain because it is inescapable to love;
then I want to be dead, but with you!
I for my part will investigate nothing, and I won't follow what you'll be planning to
conceal, and being deceived by you will be the equal of a kindness.
If, however, you'll be caught, taken by surprise in the middle of a misdeed,
and if disgraces will have been seen for my eyes,
deny what will have been seen really for me to have been really seen -
my eyes will give way to your words.
The palm of victory is favourably inclined for you to conquer a man desiring to be conquered,
merely let your tongue be mindful to say "I didn't do it!".
Since to overpower with two words falls to you,
if not by your case, win by your judge!

Nox erat...

"It was night, and sleep lowered weary little eyes;

these visions terrified my spirit:

A wood was standing most numerous with the oak tree at the foot of a sunny hill,

and many a bird was lying hidden in the boughs.

A very green open space with a grassy meadow, moist drops of water gently

sounding from down, was at the foot.

I myself was avoiding the seething heat with the leaves of a tree -

but, however, the seething heat was under the foliage of the tree -

look! A white cow stood before my eyes, seeking grass mixed into the

many-coloured flowers,

whiter than the snows, they fell recently at that time,

which time did not yet turn into flowing water;

whiter than milk, which is white with still hissing foam

and has just left the ewe made dry.

A bull was her companion, happily that husbans,

and he pressed the tender ground with his mate.

While he lies and slowly chews the called-back cud

and feeds again on the food fed before,

he had seemed to put down his horned head on the ground

while sleep took away his strength of bearing.

A crow, having glided down with slight wings though the breezes, came here

and sat chattering on the blooming ground,

and dug the chest of the snow-white cow three times, impudent with her beak,

and carried away the white mane with its mouth.

She, having lingered for a long time, left the place and the bull -

but there was a black bruise on the cow's chest;

and when she saw the bulls gathering food far away -

the bulls were gathering the fertile fodder far away -

she took herself off to that place and mixed herself into that herd

and searched the ground for more fertile grass.

Speak, come now, augur, whoever you are, of the night-vision,

if they have anything of truth, what do these visions bring?"

Thus I said; thus the augur spoke of the night-vision,

weighing up the spoken one by one in his mind:

"You were wanting to avoid what with changeable leaves

but you were badly avoiding the seething head that was of love.

The cow is your girl - that complexion is fitted for the girl;

you are the man and you were the bull in the case of the equal cow.

As to the fact that the crow was digging at the breast with her sharp beak,

an aged madam was trying to move the character of your lady.

Because, having delayed for a long time, her cow left the bull,

you'll be abandoned cold on the destitute couch.

The bruise and black blemishes at the foot of the breast at the front

say that they do not lack the stain of adultery."

The messenger had stopped. My blood fled cold from my face,

and deep night stood before my eyes.

Dure vir

Harsh husband, with a guard placed upon your tender girl
you do nothing; each one should be regarded as her own character.
If any woman is chaste even with her fear taken away, she's chaste in the end;
anyone who doesn't do it because she's not allowed, she's doing it!
As much as you watch over your body well, your mind is an adulteress;
and none can be guarded that she might not wish.
And you can't watch over the body, even if you were to shut up everything;
even with everyone shut out, there'll be an adulterer within.
Anyone who is allowed to sin, sins less; the opportunity itself
makes weaker seeds of worthlessness.
Believe me, cease to aggravate vices by forbidding;
by your compliance you'll defeat those more suitably.
Recently I saw a stubborn horse going against its bonds with resisting mouth
like a thunderbolt;
it halted as soon as its reins yielded
and the reins lay loose, poured out on its mane!
We always struggle towards the forbidden and desire the denied;
in just the same way a sick man is bent upon the forbidden waters.
Argus wore a hundred eyes on his brow, a hundred on his neck -
and Love alone often deceived them;
Danae, who had been a virgin handed over into a room long-lasting by iron and
rock, was a mother;
Penelope remained pure, although she was lacking a guard,
among so many young suitors.
Whatever is watched over we desire more, and the care itself
calls the thief; what the other permits few love.
And that girl doesn't please with her face, but with the love of her husband;
they think what has got you in its grip is really something.
A man looks after she who does not become good, but a dear adulteress;
fear itself has a greater value than her body.
It's allowed that you're offended, it's the forbidden pleasure that delights;
any woman who can say "I'm afraid!" she alone pleases.
But to watch over a free-born girl isn't right -
let this fear worry the bodies of a foreign race!
I suppose it's so that her guard may be able to say "I did it";
is it for the credit of your slave that she's to be chaste?
A wife who takes lovers hurts he who is rustic greatly,
and does not sufficiently appreciate the customs known of Rome
in which Romulus son of Ilia and Remus son of Ilia were not born of Mars without
crime.
Why choose for yourself a beautiful girl only if that chaste girl didn't please you?
These things cannot go together in any ways.
If you are wise, be kind to your lady and
put aside your severe expression, and don't regard the laws of stern men,
and your wife shall have given you what she gives many friends you cultivate.
Thus great benefit comes your way with very little work;
thus you'll always be able to go into the feasts of young men
and you'll see much at home which you shall not have given.

Non Ego Nobilium

Yeah, it's that poem - Amores 3.2 and Ovid going to the races. Though Ovid does seem a bit like he'd be insufferable in person, the poem's still quite light and funny. It's essentially the story of a man going to the races (comparable in popularity to football today) not because he really likes sport but to impress a pretty girl, and consequently daydreaming for about 84 lines. Latin poetry is very vivid because of the Latin language's reliance on participles and ability to move words around almost anywhere in a clause; even without understanding all of Ovid's techniques, such as using religious and military diction for the connotations (and believe me, on first translation I completely skipped over most of the diction), I still got the feeling of sitting under the Italian sun, daydreaming about a pretty girl. Oh, and did I mention this poem's valuable for telling us about Roman attitudes to the races?

'Non ego nobilium sedeo studiosus equorum;
    cui tamen ipsa faves, vincat ut ille, precor.
ut loquerer tecum veni, tecumque sederem,
    ne tibi non notus, quem facis, esset amor.
tu cursus spectas, ego te; spectemus uterque
    quod iuvat, atque oculos pascat uterque suos.
O, cuicumque faves, felix agitator equorum!
    ergo illi curae contigit esse tuae?
hoc mihi contingat, sacro de carcere missis
    insistam forti mente vehendus equis,
et modo lora dabo, modo verbere terga notabo,
    nunc stringam metas interiore rota.
si mihi currenti fueris conspecta, morabor,
    deque meis manibus lora remissa fluent.
at quam paene Pelops Pisaea concidit hasta,
    dum spectat vultus, Hippodamia, tuos!
nempe favore suae vicit tamen ille puellae.
    vincamus dominae quisque favore suae!
Quid frustra refugis? cogit nos linea iungi.
    haec in lege loci commoda circus habet--
tu tamen a dextra, quicumque es, parce puellae;
    contactu lateris laeditur ista tui.
tu quoque, qui spectas post nos, tua contrahe crura,
    si pudor est, rigido nec preme terga genu!
Sed nimium demissa iacent tibi pallia terra.
    collige--vel digitis en ego tollo meis!
invida vestis eras, quae tam bona crura tegebas;
    quoque magis spectes--invida vestis eras!
talia Milanion Atalantes crura fugacis
    optavit manibus sustinuisse suis.
talia pinguntur succinctae crura Dianae
    cum sequitur fortes, fortior ipsa, feras.
his ego non visis arsi; quid fiet ab ipsis?
    in flammam flammas, in mare fundis aquas.
suspicor ex istis et cetera posse placere,
     quae bene sub tenui condita veste latent.
Vis tamen interea faciles arcessere ventos?
    quos faciet nostra mota tabella manu.
an magis hic meus est animi, non aeris aestus,
    captaque femineus pectora torret amor?
dum loquor, alba levi sparsa est tibi pulvere vestis.
    sordide de niveo corpore pulvis abi!
Sed iam pompa venit--linguis animisque favete!
    tempus adest plausus--aurea pompa venit.
prima loco fertur passis Victoria pinnis--
    huc ades et meus hic fac, dea, vincat amor!
plaudite Neptuno, nimium qui creditis undis!
    nil mihi cum pelago; me mea terra capit.
plaude tuo Marti, miles! nos odimus arma;
    pax iuvat et media pace repertus amor.
auguribus Phoebus, Phoebe venantibus adsit!
    artifices in te verte, Minerva, manus!
ruricolae, Cereri teneroque adsurgite Baccho!
    Pollucem pugiles, Castora placet eques!
nos tibi, blanda Venus, puerisque potentibus arcu
    plaudimus; inceptis adnue, diva, meis
daque novae mentem dominae! patiatur amari!
    adnuit et motu signa secunda dedit.
quod dea promisit, promittas ipsa, rogamus;
    pace loquar Veneris, tu dea maior eris.
per tibi tot iuro testes pompamque deorum,
    te dominam nobis tempus in omne peti!
Sed pendent tibi crura. potes, si forte iuvabit,
    cancellis primos inseruisse pedes.
maxima iam vacuo praetor spectacula circo
    quadriiugos aequo carcere misit equos.
cui studeas, video. vincet, cuicumque favebis.
    quid cupias, ipsi scire videntur equi.
me miserum, metam spatioso circuit orbe!
    quid facis? admoto proxumus axe subit.
quid facis, infelix? perdis bona vota puellae.
    tende, precor, valida lora sinistra manu!
favimus ignavo--sed enim revocate, Quirites,
    et date iactatis undique signa togis!
en, revocant!--ac ne turbet toga mota capillos,
    in nostros abdas te licet usque sinus.
Iamque patent iterum reserato carcere postes;
    evolat admissis discolor agmen equis.
nunc saltem supera spatioque insurge patenti!
    sint mea, sint dominae fac rata vota meae!
Sunt dominae rata vota meae, mea vota supersunt.
    ille tenet palmam; palma petenda mea est.'
Risit, et argutis quiddam promisit ocellis.
    'Hoc satis est, alio cetera redde loco!'

I don't sit here as a fan of thoroughbred horses;
But I pray that he whom you favour may win.
I came to talk with you and to sit with you,
so that the love which you cause not be known to you.
You watch the races, I watch you; let us each watch
what pleases us, and let each feast their eyes.
O lucky is the driver of horses whom you yourself favour!
So how has he happened to be an object of your care?
If this were to happen to me, I'd stand over the horses sent from the
sacred starting-gate, about to be carried along with a brave spirit,
and now I'll loosen their reins, now I'll mark their backs with a whip,
now I'll graze the turning post with my innermost wheel.
If I were to catch sight of you while I was racing, I'll delay,
and the slackened reins will flow down from my hands.
How nearly did Pelops die by a Pisaean spear,
while he looked at your face, Hippodamia!
But of course, however, he won with the favour of his girl.
Let each win with the favour of his mistress!
Why do you take to flight in vain? The marker rope drives us to be joined.
The race-course has these advantages of the place in agreement;
but you from the right, whoever you are, be sparing with the girl;
she's injured by the contact of your side.
You also, who watches behind us, draw your shins together,
if you have any decency, neither press her back with your hard knee!
But your mantle, let loose, lies too much on the ground.
Collect it - or look, I'm lifting it with my toes!
You always were jealous, clothes, who were always protecting such good legs;
and by which the more you might look - you were jealous, clothes!
Milanion desired to hold up such legs of fleet-footed Atalanta
with his hands.
That's how they paint such legs of Diana tucked up
when she, more fierce, pursues the fierce beasts.
I burned with these not seen; what will happen from the legs themselves?
You pour blazes into the blaze, water into the sea.
I suspect that from those the rest can also please,
which lie well-hidden under thin clothes.
But do you want, meanwhile, to summon gentle breezes,
which a fan will make, waved by my hand?
Or perhaps this my seething heat is more of my spirit, not of the atmosphere,
and feminine love burns my captured heart?
While I speak, your white cloak is sprinkled with light dust.
Filthy dust, get away from her snow-white body!
But now comes the procession - give good omens with words and minds!
The time for clapping is here - the golden procession comes.
First in position is carried Victory with wings outstretched -
be favourable to me, goddess, and grant that this my love may conquer!
Give a cheer for Neptune, you who trust the seas too much!
I have nothing to do with the open sea; my land charms me.
Give a cheer for your Mars, soldiers! I hate arms;
peace delights and the finding of love in the middle of peace.
Phoebus, may you be favourable to the augurs, Phoebe, may you be favourable to those hunting!
Turn the hands of craftsmen towards yourself, Minerva!
Rustic ones, rise up for Ceres and tender Bacchus!
Let the boxers please Pollux, the horseman Castor!
We give a cheer for you, and with the boy powerful with his bow, sweet Venus; goddess,
be favourable to my plans
and give me the right mind for a new mistress! Let her endure being loved!
She nodded to me and gave favourable signs by her movement.
I ask you yourself promise what the goddess promised;
with all due respect to Venus, I'll say, you'll be the greater goddess.
I swear to you through so many witnesses and the procession of the gods that you'll be
sought as mistress to me for all time!
But your legs are dangling. You can, if by chance it will be pleasing,
put the tips of your feet into the lattices.
The praetor has released the horses from the even box in chariot teams of four horses
with the circus now being empty.
I see who you favour. He will win, whoever you'll favour.
The horses themselves seem to know what you want.
Wretched me, he's going around the turning point in a spacious circle!
What are you doing? The next one comes up behind with his wheel moved close.
What are you doing, unlucky one? You're losing the girl's good hopes.
Stretch, I pray, the left-hand reins with a strong hand!
We backed an idiot - but hold on, call him back, citizens,
and give signs with tossed-about togas on all sides!
See, they're calling him back! - and the moved toga, so that it should not disturb
hair, it is permitted that you may hide yourself deep into the folds of my toga.
And now the door-posts lie open with the starting-box unbolted a second time;
after the horses were released, a procession of different colours rushes out.
Now at least, overcome and rise up over the wide track ahead!
Grant that my hopes and my mistress's hopes may come true!
My mistress's hopes are granted, my hopes are left over.
He holds a palm-tree frond; my palm-tree frond needs to be sought.
He laughed, and he promised something with his piercing eyes.
"This is enough, hand over the rest in another place!"

Aww.

Just a little teaser for a poem (and something to bring my post count up...).

Collige - vel digitis en ego tollo meis!

Collect it - or look, I'm lifting it with my toes!

Tea with Cicero

I will write and translate more. Honest. Just tired.

Doing my AS level in Latin (and having pretty much finished off the Cicero! YAY! Though I am admittedly nervous as fuck about my exams), one of my set texts is part of In Verrem. This being an AS level, me having very little if any guidance on just how much studying I need to do at AS level, and me being a geek, I've been reading up on all things Cicero for background. And though I'm only really looking at translations of his work and people commenting on various sources, a picture of the man starts to emerge - a picture of the man pieced together from fragments of fragments, that's true, but a picture nonetheless.

Sometimes when reading about Cicero, or when reading his speeches, and most especially his letters (they are by far the best guide we have to the man), I feel like I'm in his presence. I don't really understand him - it's difficult enough to understand the people around one, let alone understand someone who died thousands of years ago - but I can try my best. There are times when I feel like he's there with me - with us. He would have slotted perfectly into our society; he'd have probably been a Tory and a bit of a self-righteous fuck (perhaps quite a lot of a self-righteous fuck, come to think of that) who might just be perfectly fine with ignoring due process if he thought there were threats to the government from not doing so. Given that right now the dangers to freedom in political systems seem to be a lack of due process, he might not have been very much help; all the same, it would be nice to have someone who could actually speak, as opposed to the crap that passes for rhetoric these days. To be fair, I'd probably despise the man, but he'd at least have some substance to him.

Cicero and the Roman Republic

Well, I don't normally advertise things - but this is just because I've found this book particularly useful.

I'm not a particularly high-level student - I'm only doing an AS in Latin right now, though in fairness I'm a year ahead of where I'm supposed to be - but at A-Level you're supposed to read around the subject. And my set text (prose) is part of Cicero's In Verrem, specifically II.1 53-69. So, of course, lots of reading about Cicero is involved, which means raiding the local libraries for everything they're worth. Raiding the local libraries for everything they're worth means reading books - in particular books that haven't been read for decades and that are unfortunately mostly in terrible condition. That, though, is beside the point...

...What was my original point, come to think of that? Oh yes, I've been stuffing my head with Cicero and Cicero and the Roman Republic by F. R. Cowell seems to be mentioned quite frequently. It was my birthday not so long ago and I nipped down to a local second-hand bookshop to treat myself...and I found this gem. (The photo, by the way, is not my copy, but it's the same edition.)

It's essentially an old-fashioned manual for what the Roman Republic was like in Cicero's day, the part he and others played in the failing regime, and how the Republic grew and developed over hundreds of years - it's really very difficult to describe, but I suggest you go and hunt down a copy somewhere anyway. It's not always easy reading and it's quite conservative and traditional in its ways, but it's certainly a good reference for things.

I'd also recommend reading Cicero's letters and as many of his speeches as you can find. I personally can't stand his philosophical works, but then I end up disagreeing with everyone about philosophy, and I haven't read his poetry (which is apparently abysmal).

Finally, a quick word about Imperium and Lustrum, both by Robert Harris. They do decently as a very basic introduction to Cicero, but they're works of fiction - and thus must be taken with more than a pinch of salt. They're also written quite simplistically, which is great if you like that sort of thing, but I don't. It would do you no harm to miss them out.

Stultum Ardet, Pala Futuite

Well...I can, and do, translate from English into Latin. A couple of phrases I'm very fond of:

(cookie for fellow-translators)

stultum ardet
pala futuite
pala/batillo
while I'm adding to this list, the words pala and batillum in general are just insanely useful (and interchangeable)
rationem confringite
dolabraque...dolabrarum semper obliviscor

Cui peccare licet, peccat minus.

"One who is allowed to sin, sins less." -- Ovid

Came across this today while translating one of his poems. Genius.

Why study Latin?

Firstly, I'm really sorry I haven't posted in over 2 months. Translation is a lot of work and I haven't really had my heart in it for a while - if I'm feeling nice I might put up some notes on Cicero or Ovid. Might.

Secondly, one of the first things I ever said here was that I wasn't trying to bring Latin to the masses, just to share my passion for it. That still remains mostly true - but only mostly.

Thirdly, if ever this sounds like I'm boasting - I'm trying not to boast, only to be honest. If I am boasting, though, please leave a comment and tell me to check my ego a bit. It would really be appreciated.

I wouldn't normally write posts like this, but I'm facing a bit of a crisis. I'm currently taking an AS level in Latin (in my GCSE year). Except for me, there are no AS students this year and therefore there will be no A2 students next year. I have only 2 classmates; both are leaving and probably won't do Latin in any case. None of the Year 10s are doing Latin. This means it's up to Year 8 and Year 9 to keep Latin at my school alive - and frankly I think that they need a little push. I'd hate to see my subject be pulled from the curriculum. I wouldn't be writing this otherwise. So here is my story of how and why I came to love Latin so much.

At the tender age of six, I was a budding history nerd and going through a period of obsession with all things Julius Caesar. I was also an NAGC member (for those not in the know, it works with bright kids and their families; when I was there, it had days out where kids would attend workshops on specific topics) and one day my mum pointed me to a workshop about learning Latin - the language of Julius Caesar. Needless to say, I was interested and also quite excited to get a feel for the language he spoke.

I remember a little of the session itself; it was an introduction to Latin, all we really had time for. It was also an introduction to the woman who would become my first Latin tutor and whose son would become a good friend of mine. I did Latin on and off for a couple of years using Minimus at first, then the Cambridge Latin Course (I wouldn't recommend the latter, incidentally - I find that it tends to confuse people).

I returned to doing Latin seriously with another tutor and the So You Really Want To Learn Latin course (I particularly recommend this - it's very, very strong on the grammar, though a bit old-fashioned). Because this course focuses on the bare basics of grammar, it allows a student to move quickly and get a good grounding - which I did. I spent the next couple of years in secondary school learning from those books and the CLC at the same time. I'm not really sure how far ahead I was - far enough ahead to be able to look at a piece of prose (no poetry until GCSE) and translate almost instantly.

That changed when I went to my first JACT Latin Summer School in Wells. If you're studying Latin at GCSE and A-Level, I highly suggest you go - ten days of intensive and very difficult translation, with a bit of grammar and perhaps some prose composition on the side. There are trips, workshops, lectures - some good, some bad - and the traditional cheesy play on the last evening where everyone goes in classically-themed fancy dress. If you don't mind geeky, guilty pleasures and you enjoy meeting intelligent people and getting your brain to work hard, I recommend it! Plus it improves your Latin so much.

Right, done singing the praises of Latin camp...where was I? Oh, anyway, the first time I went I found it brain-breaking at first - I wasn't used to translating actual Latin - but I got used to it and it made me enjoy Latin even more than I already did.

You see, the true joy and wonder of Latin isn't in "Caecilius est in horto" or "To the farmer", it's in learning the language and customs of people like us. It's in figuring out how the language works and how it becomes so descriptive. It's in hearing someone read the Aeneid out loud, like they would have done two thousand years ago. It's in reading the speeches of Cicero, one of the greatest orators (if not the greatest orators) in the Western world, and understanding just why they were so great - something lost in any translation; it's in reading his letters to his friends; it's in reading the epic that is the Aeneid and sharing in the triumphs and sorrows of the characters; it's in laughing at Trimalchio's extravagant dinner; it's in letting the words of Catullus move you with their honesty and power; it's in sitting next to Ovid under the hot Italian sun as he reflects on watching the races with a girl. It opens up a world of great writers who really make you feel like you're there watching everything.

If you like passion, sex, intrigue, love, war, fighting words, people who laughed and cried like us but somehow so much more, Latin is so incredibly rewarding - and it will last you a lifetime.