Latin Makes Me Free: Silverpoint at The Museum of National Art

Many say that Latin is useful for many things, but this summer on a trip to the Museum of National Art in D.C. Latin was more than useful for me. Latin is for leisure and joy. Latin is for finding joy in higher things and it is also for freedom: the freedom to self-educate.

Recently the art museum in D.C. has a glorious exhibit of drawings in metalpoint from Leonardo to Jasper Johns. The drawings by Albrecht Durer showed a great knowledge of human and animal bone structure and muscle. One room had a few portraits sketched in silverpoint by Flemish artists. One portrait of a young boy interested me because of the symbol in the top right hand corner. At first I thought it was a capital Greek letter lambda next to a number 8, but that did not make much sense at all. I was also kicking myself for not bringing my sketchbook, but I stared at the symbol for some time in order to etch it into my brain to sketch later.

Sketch of Year 8

As I moved on in the gallery, I observed another Flemish portrait of an older man in silverpoint. It had lettering in the top right corner which I immediately recognized as Latin! This time the artist wrote out the Latin word for age or year and the number 40. Of course! The boy was 8 years old and the artist used the symbol for th
e Latin dipthong: ae.

Being versed in another language (especially Latin) gives one the freedom of discovery and joy! I was so excited about my discovery that I had to tell my husband all about it. I suppose that if I had studied art in college that I would've known what the symbol meant but through my knowledge of Latin, I taught myself.

Latin Grows Green Again

If you're reading this blog, you probably love languages. Maybe you're even dabbling in Latin or picking up Wheelock's for the first time. Once you've studied Latin long enough, you can start translating the ancient greats like Cicero and Horace. I've been translating Latin for quite a number of years now, but it wasn't until recently that I started looking for the beauty in what I was translating. Perhaps now I am reading rather than translating. The drudgery of translating can sometimes become a delight, especially when you are reading a great rhetorician like Cicero.

If you are an intermediate Latin reader and interested in reading the greats with lots of grammatical notes and vocabulary in the margins, I highly recommend getting this book: Aeneas to Augustus by Hammond and Amory. Cicero is a delight to read and for the last few days I have been reading his adapted speech about the Gallic Wars: Bellum Gallicam Caesare imperatore gestum. Of course, in this speech he argues that the wars there have been vital to the stability and power of Rome and that therefore Gaius Caesar is vital for Rome. One of the last sentences in his speech struck me as poetic. I would like to also remind my reader that because word order does not matter much in Latin, word order and placement can become a poetic device. English poems have tried to mimic this sort of device but it's more difficult. Here's the beautiful passage:

Impolitae vero res et acerbae si erunt relictae, quamquam sunt accisae, tamen efferent se aliquando et ad renovandum bellum revirescent. 

Here's a rough, not so beautiful translation: Truly these are harsh and rough things if they are left, although they be cut back, nevertheless they will revive now and then and they will grow green again for war to be renewed.

The "things" that Cicero refers to are the difficult times ahead that the res publica will have to deal with in order to overcome Gaul and have peace together. Even though war is tough and ugly, Cicero deems it a necessary evil for peace and hope in his nation. A few specific words in the passage have beauty. The contrast between accisae (cut back) and efferent se (will revive). These words are near each other in the passage, but yet they are contrasts and the last word in the passage is revirescent (they will be green again). Reviresco struck me as a beautiful word the moment I read it. It's prefix re- means again or back and vir comes from the word viridis which is the color green! I also thought about other words that start with vir or vi and was astounded at the poetic nature of Latin: vir, virga, vir, virginitas, virgo, virtus, and vis. All of these words have to do with renewal and strength! Cicero got his audience to think about renewal and Caesar's worth to the Roman people. Caesar time after time (He battled the Gallic tribes for nearly 10 years before returning across the Rubicon.) renewed the spirit of defense and conquest for the Romans. Cicero was right to say that it took fidelity and virtus to wage war
against the tribes in Gaul.

A Latin Play: The Metelli and Amici (and Aesop)

Last week was Latin camp and it was great fun. My group translated some of Aeesop's fables from Latin to English. My group was also supposed to put on a skit or play of some sort and so I began to scrounge Google for a Latin play only to find that there was almost nothing related to Aesop's fables or Living Latin, the theme for our camp. Luckily I had some time to write my own Latin play. Below is one of the scenes from the play, but if you would like a copy of the entire play just email me and I will send you a copy. The play was based on these fables: "Cornix et Urna," "Lupus et Puer Mendax," "Vulpes et Uva," and "Mus et Leo." Enjoy the excerpt below...

Scene II

 

(Mater is sitting in a chair reading to the side. Maxima, Petrus, Hilaria, and the Gemini are playing hopscotch to another side.)

Narrator: The liberes are playing hopscotch outside and mater is enjoying some quiet time, but the Gemini are up to something. (Gemini are off to the side watching other kids play.)

Tullius: Let’s play a dolus on mater. (Gemini giggle and then walk up to mater looking concerned and anxious.)

Gemini: Mater! Mater!

Mater: Quid?! Quid?!

Gemini: Hilaria, our soror, fell and twisted her ankle! Veni! Veni! (Motion mater to come and mater jumps up and rushes to the hopscotch came to find that everything is alright. Gemini snicker and giggle. Mater gives them a look then goes back to chair to read.)

Narrator: That was a naughty trick, pueri, a dolus nequam. (Gemini sit near game and look bored. Then they whisper in each others’ ear, jump up and run to mater.)

Gemini: Mater! Mater!

Mater: Quid?! Quid?!

Gemini: Petrus, our frater, has a bloody nose! Veni! Veni! (Mater jumps up and runs to the boy, but sees that nothing is wrong and gives the boys a look. Gemini laugh out loud.)

Gemini: Est ridiculum!

Everyone (on stage): Pueri! Non est ridiculum! (Mater goes back to reading and kids resume game.)

(Suddenly, Maxima during her turn at hopscotch, stumbles and skins her knee. The Gemini jump up and rush to mater.)

Gemini: Mater! Mater!

Mater: Quid? (Looking annoyed.)

Gemini: Maxima, our amica… (mater interrupts)

Mater (calmly looking back at her book): I don’t believe you. Go and play.

(The Gemini see how much their friend is in pain and go get a band-aid themselves and help her up…)

Narrator: In the end they had to help their amica themselves because mater did not believe them. That’s why this moral stands true: “A liar will not be believed, even when he speaks the truth.” (All exit except for Quintus.)

Catullus in Wheelock

For the last few months I've been teaching an online adult Latin class, using Wheelock. It has been many years since I have taken a look at my well-loved old textbook. (I've had to tape the binding together because it was falling apart.) It has been enjoyable going through the book again and reading the passages from literature that Wheelock has chosen for beginners to translate. After many years of study in college and outside of college I have learned to look deeper into the text. Translation is not just translation. In Chapter 7 of Wheelock's Latin, he asks the student to translate some Catullus. I read this passage, thoroughly analyzing the text by asking the question: Why did Catullus choose that word order? This piece of Catullus is not just for beginners. Catullus writes with true meaning. I have transcribed the passage below, excluding the commas:

Cornelio viro magnae sapientiae dabo pulchrum librum novum. Corneli mi amice libros meos semper laudabas et es magister doctus litterarum! Quare habe novum laborem meum: fama libri et tua fama erit perpetua.

In the first sentence Cornelius, the man Catullus is dedicating the book to, comes first. Then three words describing Cornelius come after and then Catullus mentions himself. Then another three words describing the type of book Catullus is giving to Cornelius. Catullus places himself between the man and the book. His book is lovely and new. Cornelius is great and wise. Catullus is between wisdom and beauty. Catullus may be saying that his book is beautiful because it is dedicated to someone wise. Everything that Catullus does is new, but he learned everything from his learned friend, Cornelius. Since their lives have been intermingled, his book will increase Cornelius' fame. Catullus hopes that the fame of his book will spread to Cornelius and give his friend perpetual fame. At the end meum agrees with the novum laborem but also refers to the fama libri. He could have written mea fama libri, but instead he avoids upstaging Cornelius with fama libri et tua fama. Catullus ingeniously places perpetua at the end, focusing on the fact that the fame will last forever.

Some Lewis in Latin

At the 2013 Conference hosted by The Society for Classical Learning, I purchased The Latin Letters of C.S. Lewis, translated by Martin Moynihan. I bought it thinking, "Well, this is something written in Latin by possibly the greatest writer of the twentieth century, so why not give it a try?" As I started reading a few letters a night, I realized that I had purchased a gold mine . The same delightful spirituality that comes through in Lewis' English works also comes out in his Latin
prose. Already the letters are golden, but there is more. The book also contains some of the letters written by the man that Lewis corresponded with in Latin, Don Giovanni Calabria. Calabria, understanding Lewis' importance in the Christian world community, felt that he should start a correspondence with Lewis. Lewis did not know Italian and Calabria, or Father John, did not know a word of English, so Father John guessed correctly that Lewis knew Latin. (Another argument for why everyone should know Latin!)

These letters are absolute gems. I highly recommend Latin teachers read these letters for personal enrichment and for the joy of Latin and Latin prose. I'm going to focus on one phrase from one of Lewis' letters to Father John, because I find the quote thought-provoking.

Lewis writes to Father John about how he had been severely ill from streptococcum and tonsilitim. He could not do any work during that time and writes: Operatio mentis adest, opus abest. Moynihan translates it: The working of the mind is there, but not its work. I tend to enjoy translating his letters literally: The working of the mind is present, but the work is passed over. This passage might be fun to read with your students if they are fairly adept at their Latin, but you could certainly read the passage to younger students in English with easy Latin words mixed in. A discussion could be led about how the mind may work perfectly fine, while one is ill, but the body cannot perform in order for one to realize those thoughts. The teacher may also start a discussion about the mind versus the body with these types of questions. Can thoughts free us from the bodily world? Can tricks of the mind affect the body? The questions in this regard are endless and get the student to think philosophically about the subject of thoughts and actions. Include in the discussion the scientific names of certain diseases, sicknesses, and bacterial infections. Yes, Latin is in Science too. It's everywhere we look!

Beatus lectus Latin enthusiasts and teachers!

Using Latin and Theatre with Jesus' Parables

Recently, I combined many subjects together during a Theology lesson with my third grade class. This is something that both my students and I enjoy. It's also a very "classical" way to teach. In Theology we were learning about and reading about the parable of the unforgiving servant where the master (Jesus) forgives his servant of a large sum of money. Then that servant goes and throws a friend, who owes him a little amount, in jail for not paying him. The master gets angry and throws the first servant into prison. (Read Matthew 18:23-35 for the whole story.)

Firstly, I knew that my class would enjoy acting the story out, while I read it out loud. Each student could have a part to play and students will often remember stories that they have acted out and therefore internalized. In fact, the birth of the theatre began in the church, when churches would put on plays to teach commoners the commandments and good morals. Likewise, one student acted out the wrong way to treat a friend by pretend-choking the friend, who owed him money, and one friend played the master, as the forgiving Lord of us all.

Now how did Latin fit into all that? The class had just learned the words for master and servant from Latin for Children Primer A. They had chanted the vocabulary and memorized the words, but here was an opportunity to tell the story using Latin words. I substituted the English words with the Latin words that they learned and in turn they internalized the parable and the Latin words. I hope to do both these things a lot during the year. I highly recommend using one or both of these ways to instill in your students the love of the Bible, acting, and languages.

Ceasar and Machiavelli: A Portrait of a Tyrant

In Chapter XXXI of Caesar's De Bello Gallico, Caesar gives the reader a picture of Ariovistus, one of the barbarians, who clearly made an impression on him: Hominem esse barbarum, iracundum, temerarium: non posse eius imperia diutius sustinere.  Ariovistus conquered the Gauls, but his cruelty led to his downfall. Caesar explains that the noblest prisoners of war were tortured mercilessly by Ariovistus it appears only so that his every wish could be carried out. Ariovistus was enslisted by the Sequani to defeat the Aedui and took up the role with ardor, meaning with fire. In the next chapter of Caesar's work an intriguing scene unfolds:

Animadvertit Caesar unos ex omnibus Sequanos nihil earum rerum facere quas ceteri facerent sed tristis capite demisso terram intueri. Eius rei quae causa esset miratus ex impsis quaesiit. Nihil Sequani respondere, sed in eadem tristitia taciti permanere. Cum ab his saepius quaereret neque ullam omnino vocem exprimere posset, idem Diviciacus Aeduus respondit: hoc esse miseriorem et graviorem fortunam Sexuanorum quam reliquorum, quod soli ne in occulto quidem queri neque auxilium implorare auderent absentisque Ariovisti crudelitatem, velut si coram adesset, horrerent...

The Sequani would not grovel in front of Caesar and Caesar had to beg to know the reason for their downcast heads. They were more afraid of Ariovistus, who was in captivity, than the fate they would have as silent supplicants with Caesar. Ariovistus' cruelty had mentally affected the Sequani, who were allies with Ariovistus. They saw how he treated his captives and they did not wish to become his enemy or impede his authority.

Machiavelli's The Prince comes to my mind as I read this passage in Caesar's work. Machiavelli writes about how a prince should not solely be feared or loved, but he should be feared and loved. I am not certain, but fairly sure that Machiavelli would have read Caesar many times during his studies and so perhaps he thought about the juxtaposition of Diviciacus, Caesar, and Ariovistus in Caesar's narrative. Caesar was perhaps Machiavelli's model for the perfect prince. Caesar proves to all of Gaul that he can defeat the "barbarian" Ariovistus and loyalties surge to his side. Fear does not gain power, but a false power that ends sooner. It is perhaps ironic that Caesar enlists the help of one of Ariovistus' friends to help with a parley, for friends ended up writing Caesar's demise back in Rome.