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?
Showing posts with label latin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label latin. Show all posts
Saturday, 28 July 2012
Wednesday, 25 July 2012
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.
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.
Sunday, 26 February 2012
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!"
'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!"
Sunday, 22 January 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, 22 November 2011
In Paradisum
This isn't strictly Latin-related - it's not really Latin poetry or prose - and I should probably warn you now: if you don't like classical music or Fauré's requiem, you should skip this post.
I'm fairly convinced this is what Heaven sounds like. I remember singing it myself not too long ago, and it brings back the best of memories. It brings back a pleasant early summer spent on the green fields, laughing with the rest of the choir and taking stupid photos in the sunlight that hurt my eyes, but I didn't care because I never wanted that day to end. It brings back our Oxford-educated director, a painfully young and refined eccentric who always took the time to crack a joke with us while shaping us into halfway-decent musicians. It brings back our in-jokes and the last of our time spent together as we learned and performed one of the most quietly beautiful pieces in existence.
OK, I'll stop ranting now and admit that that particular rendition is a little too saccharine for me. The true beauty of the piece is in the dynamics and harmonies, going from the simplicity of the soprano line at the beginning to the repetition of Jerusalem and then all over again for the second part. I guess you have to sing it live to get the full feeling.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, the Latin translation...
May the angels lead you
Into Paradise;
On your arrival, may the martyrs receive you
and lead you into the holy city
Jerusalem.
May a chorus of angels receive you
and with the formerly poor Lazarus
may you have eternal rest.
I'm fairly convinced this is what Heaven sounds like. I remember singing it myself not too long ago, and it brings back the best of memories. It brings back a pleasant early summer spent on the green fields, laughing with the rest of the choir and taking stupid photos in the sunlight that hurt my eyes, but I didn't care because I never wanted that day to end. It brings back our Oxford-educated director, a painfully young and refined eccentric who always took the time to crack a joke with us while shaping us into halfway-decent musicians. It brings back our in-jokes and the last of our time spent together as we learned and performed one of the most quietly beautiful pieces in existence.
OK, I'll stop ranting now and admit that that particular rendition is a little too saccharine for me. The true beauty of the piece is in the dynamics and harmonies, going from the simplicity of the soprano line at the beginning to the repetition of Jerusalem and then all over again for the second part. I guess you have to sing it live to get the full feeling.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, the Latin translation...
May the angels lead you
Into Paradise;
On your arrival, may the martyrs receive you
and lead you into the holy city
Jerusalem.
May a chorus of angels receive you
and with the formerly poor Lazarus
may you have eternal rest.
Monday, 21 November 2011
Dicebas quondam...
Once you used to say that you knew only Catullus,
Lesbia, and you didn't want to hold Jupiter dear before me.
Then I loved you not such as a common man loves his mistress,
but as a father loves his sons and sons-in-law.
Now I have known you: wherefore, although I burn ardently,
you're but by much cheaper and more worthless to me.
How can that be? you say. Because such a hurt
forces a lover to love more, but to want well less.
I hope I got the sense of this poem right - it's one of the most touching ones. It tugs at my heart-strings at least. This is what I like about Latin, especially Latin poetry; because of the way the language works, relying very little on syntax and a lot on inflection, it becomes very expressive - especially as you can play all sorts of fancy tricks with word order that are difficult or impossible in English. Another thing I tend to find is that Latin likes participles; this makes the language very descriptive as well. I don't know if it's the Latin or my wildly overactive imagination, but I can picture things very vividly in Latin and less so in English.
Quite a lot of these poems are about love. This is less to do with me being a sap and more to do with the book I'm working out of - yes, I use books, not the internet, and I don't do these poems in any particular order. Normally I wouldn't be seen dead with love poetry, but this stuff is so ridiculously good that I pass over the "love" part and just concentrate on the "poetry".
I wouldn't say that Latin is necessarily difficult to translate - as long as you have a strong handle on grammar and you keep practicing it's quite straightforward - but it's very, very different from English. Oh, of course we share some words (particularly inkhorn terms and scientific terminology), but if anything English is more Germanic than Romantic (note: I'm not a linguist, I'm just using some of my little linguistic knowledge). The grammar, the syntax, in fact the whole way Latin is set up is very different to the way English is set up. I almost certainly haven't covered everything (in fact I definitely haven't covered everything), but just as an example, Latin is highly inflected, English isn't. Latin doesn't rely much on syntax to get a message across, English does (just think of how bad this would sound if I mixed all the words in a clause up - Latin could get away with it just fine). All this can make it very difficult to keep the sense of the original Latin.
Another problem is that casual Latin constructions sound like very formal, old-fashioned English - and then there's the age-old task of the translator in deciding just how free to be with the language. It may not sound like much of a problem to those who don't translate, but to those who do it's a massive quandary. Translation is essentially a very complex balancing act between trying to translate accurately and trying to translate well - and the more complex the texts, the more difficult this balancing act gets. I haven't got any Latin qualifications yet and I do this for myself - so if the poems sound stilted to you, just remember how inexperienced I am and how difficult getting a good translation can be.
Lesbia, and you didn't want to hold Jupiter dear before me.
Then I loved you not such as a common man loves his mistress,
but as a father loves his sons and sons-in-law.
Now I have known you: wherefore, although I burn ardently,
you're but by much cheaper and more worthless to me.
How can that be? you say. Because such a hurt
forces a lover to love more, but to want well less.
I hope I got the sense of this poem right - it's one of the most touching ones. It tugs at my heart-strings at least. This is what I like about Latin, especially Latin poetry; because of the way the language works, relying very little on syntax and a lot on inflection, it becomes very expressive - especially as you can play all sorts of fancy tricks with word order that are difficult or impossible in English. Another thing I tend to find is that Latin likes participles; this makes the language very descriptive as well. I don't know if it's the Latin or my wildly overactive imagination, but I can picture things very vividly in Latin and less so in English.
Quite a lot of these poems are about love. This is less to do with me being a sap and more to do with the book I'm working out of - yes, I use books, not the internet, and I don't do these poems in any particular order. Normally I wouldn't be seen dead with love poetry, but this stuff is so ridiculously good that I pass over the "love" part and just concentrate on the "poetry".
I wouldn't say that Latin is necessarily difficult to translate - as long as you have a strong handle on grammar and you keep practicing it's quite straightforward - but it's very, very different from English. Oh, of course we share some words (particularly inkhorn terms and scientific terminology), but if anything English is more Germanic than Romantic (note: I'm not a linguist, I'm just using some of my little linguistic knowledge). The grammar, the syntax, in fact the whole way Latin is set up is very different to the way English is set up. I almost certainly haven't covered everything (in fact I definitely haven't covered everything), but just as an example, Latin is highly inflected, English isn't. Latin doesn't rely much on syntax to get a message across, English does (just think of how bad this would sound if I mixed all the words in a clause up - Latin could get away with it just fine). All this can make it very difficult to keep the sense of the original Latin.
Another problem is that casual Latin constructions sound like very formal, old-fashioned English - and then there's the age-old task of the translator in deciding just how free to be with the language. It may not sound like much of a problem to those who don't translate, but to those who do it's a massive quandary. Translation is essentially a very complex balancing act between trying to translate accurately and trying to translate well - and the more complex the texts, the more difficult this balancing act gets. I haven't got any Latin qualifications yet and I do this for myself - so if the poems sound stilted to you, just remember how inexperienced I am and how difficult getting a good translation can be.
Sunday, 20 November 2011
Vivamus, mea Lesbia
I attempted to cross-post from Vivat Libertas (the post in question can be viewed here), but I sort of managed to fail epically at that task. I've translated the poem, but all the analysis I put into it must be viewed there.
Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love,
and let us value all the rumours of sterner old men
at one as.
Suns can set and return;
when brief light sets once,
we must sleep in unending night.
Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred,
then another thousand, then a second hundred,
then yet another thousand, then a hundred.
Then, when we've made many thousands,
we'll mix them up, lest we know,
or lest anyone could give us the evil eye
since he may know there were so many kisses.
Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love,
and let us value all the rumours of sterner old men
at one as.
Suns can set and return;
when brief light sets once,
we must sleep in unending night.
Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred,
then another thousand, then a second hundred,
then yet another thousand, then a hundred.
Then, when we've made many thousands,
we'll mix them up, lest we know,
or lest anyone could give us the evil eye
since he may know there were so many kisses.
Friday, 18 November 2011
Primae Sententiae
It doesn't really translate as "first post", but at a stretch it could.
It's probably a good idea to look at the about me page, which will save me a lot of time and explanation. I'm really not as girly as the pink background suggests, so don't be turned off by that. If it really annoys people I might consider changing it.
So why did I set up this blog? After all, I've already got another one. And why Latin anyway?
The thing is, my other blog's all cluttered up with my various witterings and I wanted something specifically to do with Latin - I mean, I've got poems and analysis all stored away on my computer doing nothing. I'm up to my eyeballs in translation sometimes, and I love it. I love it so much I couldn't stop myself from splurging this love all over the internet...and that was how this blog was born.
As it says on the page, I'm not on a mission to bring Latin to the masses. It's a worthy cause, but I'm really not up to the job. The only thing I'm on a mission to do is to share my love of interesting Latin-related stuff with anyone who can be bothered to read this.
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