Old People Are Like Mountains...

In the first stanza of Horace I.9 Mt. Soracte, the trees and the rivers are all given descriptions that are also closely associated with old age.

First, Mt. Soracte is described as having "white snow" ("nive candidum"). To me, this is to represent the white hair that typically comes with old age. Just as the white hair sits on top of the head of a person, the white snow sits on the top of the peak of a mountain.

Next, we are told that the trees are "no longer able to sustain their load" ("sustineat onus silvae laborantes"). Trees, when they are young, stand tall and strong, bearing heavy loads and able to withstand strong winds. As they age, they become weak and are no longer able to withstand these harsh conditions. Similarly, young people are strong and able to work hard. As people age, these abilities deteriorate, and people are no longer as vivacious as they once were.

The rivers describe a similar concept. The rivers "stood still with sharp ice" ("geluque flumina constiterint acuto"). I interpret this as a young person with sharp skills and reflexes. As a human being ages, reaction time decreases along with sharp vision and hearing. These deteriorate as a frozen river melts.

Who would have ever thought that an Old Person is just like a mountain or a tree or a river? Thank you Horace for this incredible insight. :)

Laocoon: Wrongly Killed In An Attempt to Save His People!!! (If only someone had listened....)

I will start this blog with a strong statement: Laocoon did not deserve to die. Laocoon suffered a rather brutal death for simply trying to help his people. Unfortunately, as is the way of the world, people ignored Laocoon's warnings, and he was brutally killed.

Starting with lines 45-49 (aut hoc...dona ferentis) we can see that Laocoon is skeptical. And frankly, he should not be the only one. In line 49 he states that he "fears the Greeks, even bearing gifts." No one listens to Laocoon, no one tries to see if maybe he could be right. Then, in line 50 (sic factus...) Laocoon hurls his spear into horse. Now, most people assume since nothing happened, then they are safe. No one (except for Laocoon) thought that maybe, just maybe, the spear just hit the wrong spot OR that maybe something happened that no one could see or hear. No, thinking that your enemies concealing an attack with a gift would just be unreasonable. How typical....

Anyways, then Laocoon tries to further save his people with a sacrafice (lines 199-202; Hic aliud...ad aras). How noble! His people don't believe him and he still tries to protect them. To me, this is a pure sign of pietas. And wasn't that what the Romans admired in a person? That duty, that loyalty to the people no matter what happens. Well, in this case, pietas either did not matter, or people simply did not care.

Either way, Laocoon did not deserve the brutal, bloody and painful death that is described in the following lines. He was trying to help, trying to keep a level head while everyone around him was having some moment of either faith in the world or insanity (I believe that both feelings could lead to the same result). He kept his head on his shoulders and tried to really think through the situation and keep his people safe. Our attempts at helping others do not always work out for the best, but does that mean that we shouldn't be given any credit for trying?

So, Aeneas, Tell Us a Bit About Yourself...Oh, Wait. Vergil Already Did That.

In Book 1 of the Aeneid Vergil not only begins to tell the story of Aeneas, but he also starts to help us understand just who this man is. We start learning just who Aeneas is within the first lines of the poem. A small summary of Aeneas's life is given; we are told of his struggles and his founding of Rome. This short passage ("Arma virumque...moenia Romae") tells us quite a bit about Mr. Aeneas. It shows his ability to overcome struggle, his ability to continue on to greatness after being beaten down. This passage allows us to understand that the main focus of our story is a true hero.

Another thing that gives us a clue to who Aeneas is the use of the word "pietas" in line 10 ("insignem pietate virum") and 7 other times in the poem (according to the frequency list in the back of our text). As we have often discussed, finding a definition for this word is a difficult task. Our text defines it as "dutiful respect, devotion (to the god, family, country)." It is, however, much more than that. The use of this word means that Vergil believes that Aeneas is a good man, and thus, so should we.

One of the most important things we learn about Aeneas in Book 1 is his ability to be an effective leader. In Lines 198 to 207, Aeneas speaks to his people in an attempt to keep them motivated and keep them moving along on the journey to finding a new city. A bit earlier in Line 94, however, Aeneas was telling the gods how badly he wanted to die back in Troy ("O terque...contigit oppetere!"). This shows us something so crucial in Aeneas's character. It shows that even when he himself is down and feeling as though he cannot continue on, he can still find the strength within himself to motivate those he must lead. This is such an important quality in a leader, and one that makes Aeneas such a powerful and unique hero.

English vs. Latin...Who Will Be Victorious???

We all know Vergil's Aeneid has been translated into English numerous times (in fact, it is being worked into a musical). But how do these English versions compare with Vergil's Latin masterpiece? We shall find out...

We will start with a translation by C. Day Lewis. Up until Line 8 in the Aeneid text (Musa, mihi causas memora...) Lewis actually does a decent translation. Words are not translated literally and some things are embellished, but he keeps pretty true to the actual translation. Most impressive to me is that he does keep the translation of lines 6-7 ( genus unde...moenia Romae) pretty literal:

Whence rose the Latin race, 

the royal line of Alba and the high walls of Rome. 

The problem, however, lies in lines 8-11, when Vergil is addressing his Muse. First of all, the word "Muse" is not mentioned anywhere in his translation! How can you take a moment in which the author is talking to a Muse, and simply make it into a moment of rhetorical questions? (The only possible answer: the man was insane) I find this to be the most bothersome part of the Lewis translation. Sure, you can embellish things a bit, but don't completely change what is going on...that's just wrong. 

Now, to move on to the next translation- that of Allen Mandelbaum. First, I appreciate that Mandelbaum had enough sense to keep this work a work of poetry. Even though this means that, at times, his translation becomes a bit embellished and lofty, it remains a poem, as it was originally written. I also love that, in his translation, the Muse is addressed (Take that Lewis!!!). Keeping to the translation matters; it helps us to understand what Vergil was really getting at. The problems I find really lie in Mandelbaum's choice of words. Take for example, lines 1-3 (Arma virumque...litora). I have a translation that reads:

I sing of arms and a man, who first came from the shores

of Troy to Italy and the Lavinian coast exiled

by fate. 

Mandelbaum's translation reads:

I sing of arms and a man: his fate

has made him fugitive; he was the first

to journey from the coasts of Troy as far

as Italy and the Lavinian shores.

I am bothered by his lengthy translation; more words will not make this "better" in anyway. I guess I just don't understand why someone cannot simply sit down and translate Vergil's work literally. Why must we make it into something more, something that some consider "better?" I'm not sure what the answers to these questions may be, but I do know one thing.....

LATIN WINS!!!!!!!!! 

A Picture Speaks a Thousand Words. These Days, Pyramus and Thisbe Don't.

The first picture I chose is Thisbe by John Waterhouse. This picture depicts Thisbe listening to Pyramus through the wall. The picture seems to be pretty accurate as far as the style of the house and having Thisbe with her ear against it. I do, however, find a few faults with the picture. First, I would imagine Thisbe to be depicted both a bit younger and a bit prettier. Here she is depicted a bit older, more around 18 or 20 in my opinion, and is not exactly the image of youth and innocence as Thisbe is described by Ovid. Also, the fact that along the wall all we see is a crack bothers me. I understand that Thisbe's head is against the chink, but we only see a crack. I feel as though this may give the wrong impression, as a crack would not allow the interaction that Pyramus and Thisbe had because a crack is simply not wide enough to allow the sound to travel. I think this error would give the wrong impression of the story to someone who was not as familiar with the story.

Second, I chose Gregorio Pagani's Pyramus and Thisbe. This, as with many others, depicts Thisbe's death scene. The first thing I noticed in the picture is the fountain in the background. I do like that this is included, as it played such an important part in the plot. I also found it appropriate that Thisbe was stabbing herself in her lower chest, as that is how Ovid described the situation. I do find it slightly annoying, however, that Pyramus's blood pool suggest that he was stabbed in the neck and the end of the sword is placed at his stomach. This seems a bit ridiculous, as the rest of the picture is rather accurate, and then this detail is left alone. I understand that depicting or implying that someone was stabbed in the "woo-hoo" can be a bit graphic and uncomfortable, but that's the way it happened. Ovid wanted it that way, so that is the way it should be.

Lastly, I chose Pyramus und Thisbe by Niklaus Manuel Deutsch, another depiction of the Thisbe death scene. This picture I found to be the most interesting interpretation of the story. First, one of Pyramus's legs is red, which is interesting because the leg is not mutilated or destroyed in any way in the picture. This seems to be a way to communicate Pyrramus's "private" wound, which I find to be creative, but also confusing at first glance. Next, when I look at Thisbe, she seems to be pregnant. I find this to be an interesting twist on the story. We have talked about how the change in the mulberries represents what the couple was able to leave behind since they could not have children, and nowhere in Ovid's story did he describe Thisbe as being pregnant. I also would like to point out that here, Thisbe is aiming the sword at her pregnant belly. Again, an interesting twist, as it seems to symbolize that if Pyramus isn't living, Thisbe doesn't want to live, and she feels as though her child shouldn't have to live without her. Again, an interesting twist. Something else that bothers me about this picture is that we see the mulberry tree, but we do not see any mulberries. Since this is the change of the story, if you are going to include the tree, you should include the mulberries. Also, going back to the baby concept, if the mulberries are what the couple leaves behind, and there are no mulberries, and Thisbe decides to kill her unborn child, then the whole concept of the couple leaving something behind is completely destroyed. If this was Deutsch's intention, then shame on him for attempting to alter the wonderful, beautiful, deep, and symbolic story that Ovid created.