“Covered in Flames and Sorrowful Ash”: Martial on Vesuvius

Alexey Bogolyubov, Eruption of Vesuvius

Today is, according to many, the anniversary of the eruption of Vesuvius in the Bay of Naples in 79 CE. Pliny’s account is the most famous, but Martial had his say too (Epigrams, 4.4):

“Here is Vesuvius, just yesterday green with shading vines–
here the noble grape made filled deep pools:
these were the hills Bacchus loved more than Nysae.
On this mountain the Satyrs not so long ago led their dance.
Here was the home Venus considered more pleasing than Sparta.
This place was famous because of its Herculean name.
All of this lies covered in flames and sorrowful ash.
Not even the gods wished for this to be their right.”

Hic est pampineis uiridis modo Vesbius umbris,
presserat hic madidos nobilis uua lacus:
haec iuga quam Nysae colles plus Bacchus amauit;
hoc nuper Satyri monte dedere choros;
haec Veneris sedes, Lacedaemone gratior illi;              5
hic locus Herculeo nomine clarus erat.
Cuncta iacent flammis et tristi mersa fauilla:
nec superi uellent hoc licuisse sibi.

 

Get Sh*T Ready and Drink

songs and thoughts well-fit to birthdays

Anacreonta 48

“When Bacchus visits,
My worries slumber:
I dream I have Elon-wealth.

I want to sing prettily,.
But I’m stretched out with an ivy crown,
And I mock everything in my heart.

Get shit ready and let me drink.
Bring me a cup, son:
It is far better for me to lie here
Drunk instead of dead.”

ὅταν ὁ Βάκχος ἔλθῃ,
εὕδουσιν αἱ μέριμναι,
δοκῶ δ᾿ ἔχειν τὰ Κροίσου.
θέλω καλῶς ἀείδειν,
κισσοστεφὴς δὲ κεῖμαι,
πατῶ δ᾿ ἅπαντα θυμῷ.

ὅπλιζ᾿, ἐγὼ δὲ πίνω.

φέρε μοι κύπελλον, ὦ παῖ·
μεθύοντα γάρ με κεῖσθαι
πολὺ κρεῖσσον ἢ θανόντα.

Anacreonta 52a

“Why do you teach me laws
And rhetoricians’ customs?
What’s the use of so many speeches
That bring no help at all?

Teach me instead
To drink Dionysus’ subtle draught.
Teach me instead
To play with golden Aphrodite.”

τί με τοὺς νόμους διδάσκεις
καὶ ῥητόρων ἀνάγκας;
τί δέ μοι λόγων τοσούτων
τῶν μηδὲν ὠφελούντων;

μᾶλλον δίδασκε πίνειν
ἁπαλὸν πῶμα Λυαίου,
μᾶλλον δίδασκε παίζειν
μετὰ χρυσῆς Ἀφροδίτης.

Anacreonta 52b

“The hair is gray on my head.
Boy, give me water, add some wine
Make my heart numb.
Soon you will cover me, no longer alive.
You want nothing when you’re dead.”

πολιαὶ στέφουσι κάραν·
δὸς ὕδωρ, βάλ᾿ οἶνον, ὦ παῖ·
τὴν ψυχήν μου κάρωσον.
βραχὺ μὴ ζῶντα καλύπτεις.
ὁ θανὼν οὐκ ἐπιθυμεῖ.

a group of revelers from the 17th century, men and women drinking. There is a dog in the front listening to a bow play the violin
Jan Steen, “A Merry Party” 1660

Honoring the Dead with the Dead

Euripides, Hecuba 303-316

“I will not deny what I said to everyone:
Now that Troy has been taken we should give your child
To be sacrificed to the first man of the army when he asks it.

Here is where many cities start to stumble—
When there is some excellent and willing man
Who earns no greater than the lesser mob.
Achilles is worthy of our honor, Ma’am,
Because he died most nobly for Greece.

Wouldn’t it be shameful if we used him as a friend
When he was watching but stopped when he was dead?
What would someone say if there was some new reason
To gather an army and lead it against an enemy?
Will we fight or will we worry about our lives
Once we see that the dead are not honored?”

ἃ δ᾿ εἶπον εἰς ἅπαντας οὐκ ἀρνήσομαι,
Τροίας ἁλούσης ἀνδρὶ τῷ πρώτῳ στρατοῦ
σὴν παῖδα δοῦναι σφάγιον ἐξαιτουμένῳ.
ἐν τῷδε γὰρ κάμνουσιν αἱ πολλαὶ πόλεις,
ὅταν τις ἐσθλὸς καὶ πρόθυμος ὢν ἀνὴρ
μηδὲν φέρηται τῶν κακιόνων πλέον.
ἡμῖν δ᾿ Ἀχιλλεὺς ἄξιος τιμῆς, γύναι,
θανὼν ὑπὲρ γῆς Ἑλλάδος κάλλιστ᾿ ἀνήρ.
οὔκουν τόδ᾿ αἰσχρόν, εἰ βλέποντι μὲν φίλῳ
χρώμεσθ᾿, ἐπεὶ δ᾿ ὄλωλε μὴ χρώμεσθ᾿ ἔτι;
εἶἑν· τί δῆτ᾿ ἐρεῖ τις, ἤν τις αὖ φανῇ
στρατοῦ τ᾿ ἄθροισις πολεμίων τ᾿ ἀγωνία;
πότερα μαχούμεθ᾿ ἢ φιλοψυχήσομεν,
τὸν κατθανόνθ᾿ ὁρῶντες οὐ τιμώμενον;

Sebastiano Ricci (Belluno 1659-Venice 1734) – The Sacrifice of Polyxena –

It’s Tuesday: An Eternal Death Awaits, No Matter What

Lucretius, De Rerum Natura 3.1076-1094

“Finally, what great and vile desire for life compels us
To quake so much amidst doubts and dangers?
Mortals have an absolute end to our lives:
Death cannot be evaded—we must leave.

Nevertheless, we move again and still persist—
No new pleasure is procured by living;
But while what we desire is absent, that seems to overcome
All other things; but later, when we have gained it, we want something else—

An endless thirst for life grips us as we gasp for it.
It remains unclear what fortune life will offer,
What chance may bring us and what end awaits.
But by extending life we do not subtract a moment
Of time from death nor can we shorten it
So that we may somehow have less time after our ends.

Therefore, you may continue as living as many generations as you want,
But that everlasting death will wait for you still,
And he will be there for no less a long time, the man who
Has found the end of life with today’s light, than the man who died
Many months and many years before.”

Denique tanto opere in dubiis trepidare periclis
quae mala nos subigit vitai tanta cupido?
certe equidem finis vitae mortalibus adstat
nec devitari letum pote, quin obeamus.
praeterea versamur ibidem atque insumus usque
nec nova vivendo procuditur ulla voluptas;
sed dum abest quod avemus, id exsuperare videtur
cetera; post aliud, cum contigit illud, avemus
et sitis aequa tenet vitai semper hiantis.
posteraque in dubiost fortunam quam vehat aetas,
quidve ferat nobis casus quive exitus instet.
nec prorsum vitam ducendo demimus hilum
tempore de mortis nec delibare valemus,
quo minus esse diu possimus forte perempti.
proinde licet quod vis vivendo condere saecla,
mors aeterna tamen nihilo minus illa manebit,
nec minus ille diu iam non erit, ex hodierno
lumine qui finem vitai fecit, et ille,
mensibus atque annis qui multis occidit ante.

Color photo of a plaster Roman death mask, mostly brown and orange with eyes visible and striking
https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/547853

To His Own Drunk Self, a Song

Anacreonta 9: To His Own Drunk Self [εἰς ἑαυτὸν μεμεθυσμένον]

“Dear gods, let me drink,
Let me drink without pausing.
I want to go crazy, I do.

Alkmaion went crazy
And so did white-footed Orestes,
After they killed their mothers.

I haven’t killed anyone
drinking my red wine
I want to go crazy, I do.

Herakles went crazy once
Shaking his awful quiver
And Iphitus’ bow.
Ajax went crazy too
Holding up Hektor’s sword
With his shield.

I have this little cup
And this crown on my hair.
Not a bow or a sword.
I want to go crazy, I do.”

ἄφες με, τοὺς θεούς σοι,
πιεῖν, πιεῖν ἀμυστί·
θέλω, θέλω μανῆναι.
ἐμαίνετ᾿ Ἀλκμαίων τε
χὠ λευκόπους Ὀρέστης
τὰς μητέρας κτανόντες·
ἐγὼ δὲ μηδένα κτάς,
πιὼν δ᾿ ἐρυθρὸν οἶνον
θέλω, θέλω μανῆναι.

ἐμαίνετ᾿ Ἡρακλῆς πρὶν
δεινὴν κλονῶν φαρέτρην
καὶ τόξον Ἰφίτειον.
ἐμαίνετο πρὶν Αἴας
μετ᾿ ἀσπίδος κραδαίνων
τὴν Ἕκτορος μάχαιραν·

ἐγὼ δ᾿ ἔχων κύπελλον
καὶ στέμμα τοῦτο χαίτης,
οὐ τόξον, οὐ μάχαιραν,
θέλω, θέλω μανῆναι.

Drunken Hercules. A detail from the Baccanalia mosaic, Tsipory.

Lost Treasures Department: Mother with Baby Centaurs

Lucian, Zeuxis or Antiochus 4

“I want now to explain about this painter too. That Zeuxis was the best painter at the time and didn’t illustrate common and cliched things or did make heroes, gods, and wars as little as possible. Instead he was always trying to make something new and whenever he conceived of something different or odd, he demonstrated the brilliance of his skill in its execution. Among his many audacious images, that Zeuxis painted a female Hippocentaur and depicted her feeding twin Hippocentaur babies.

There’s a copy of that image precisely modeled on the original in Athens. The first copy, however, the general Sulla selected to send to Italy with other things, but I guess that the ship carrying it sank outside of Malea, destroying the painting and everything else.”

Ἐθέλω γοῦν ὑμῖν καὶ τὸ τοῦ γραφέως διηγήσασθαι. ὁ Ζεῦξις ἐκεῖνος ἄριστος γραφέων γενόμενος τὰ δημώδη καὶ τὰ κοινὰ ταῦτα οὐκ ἔγραφεν, ἢ ὅσα πάνυ ὀλίγα, ἥρωας ἢ θεοὺς ἢ πολέμους, ἀεὶ δὲ καινοποιεῖν ἐπειρᾶτο καί τι ἀλλόκοτον ἂν καὶ ξένον ἐπινοήσας ἐπ᾿ ἐκείνῳ τὴν ἀκρίβειαν τῆς τέχνης ἐπεδείκνυτο. ἐν δὲ τοῖς ἄλλοις τολμήμασι καὶ θήλειαν Ἱπποκένταυρον ὁ Ζεῦξις οὗτος ἐποίησεν, ἀνατρέφουσάν γε προσέτι παιδίω Ἱπποκενταύρω διδύμω κομιδῇ νηπίω. τῆς εἰκόνος ταύτης ἀντίγραφός ἐστι νῦν Ἀθήνησι πρὸς αὐτὴν ἐκείνην ἀκριβεῖ τῇ στάθμῃ μετενηνεγμένη. τὸ ἀρχέτυπον δὲ αὐτὸ Σύλλας ὁ Ῥωμαίων στρατηγὸς ἐλέγετο μετὰ τῶν ἄλλων εἰς Ἰταλίαν πεπομφέναι, εἶτα περὶ Μαλέαν οἶμαι καταδύσης τῆς ὁλκάδος ἀπολέσθαι ἅπαντα καὶ τὴν γραφήν.

A bare-chested centaur woman (long blond hair, motley brown hair on horse body) breastfeeding a centaur toddler (same coloring except for short hair) she holds to her human chest while a centaur man (short black hair and beard, grey hair on horse body) is sneaking under her and looking intently up at the two breasts on her horse hindquarters

Are You Down with O.P.P. (Other Peoples’ Pimples)?

Seneca, De Vita Beata 27

“You have the free time to track down everyone else’s faults and pass judgment on anyone you please? ‘Why does this philosopher have such a big home? Why does that one eat so richly?’ These are the things you say. You stare at other people’s pimples when you’re afflicted with oozing sores!

This is the same thing as if someone who is covered by a gross disease points and laughs at blemishes and warts on the most beautiful bodies. Attack Plato because he looked for money, Aristotle because he took it, Democritus because he ignored it, and Epicurus because he spent it all!

Sure, yell at me about Alcibiades and Phaedrus even though it would be the happiest day in your life if you copied my vices!”

Vobis autem vacat aliena scrutari mala et sententias ferre de quoquam? “Quare hic philosophus laxius habitat? Quare hic lautius cenat?” Papulas observatis alienas, obsiti plurimis ulceribus. Hoc tale est, quale si quis pulcherrimorum corporum naevos aut verrucas derideat, quem foeda scabies 5depascitur. Obicite Platoni, quod petierit pecuniam Aristoteli, quod acceperit, Democrito, quod neglexerit, Epicuro, quod consumpserit; mihi ipsi Alcibiadem et Phaedrum obiectate, evasuri maxime felices, cum primum vobis imitari vitia nostra contigerit!

Paolo Veronese, “Young Man between Vice and Virtue” c. 1581

Stacks of Cash from the Lecture Circuit

Dio Chrysostom, The Fifty-Fourth Discourse: On Socrates 1

“Hippias of Elis, Gorgias of Leontini, along with the sophists Polos and Prodikos were prominent in Greece at a certain time and earned a fantastic reputation, not merely in the rest of the cities, but in Sparta and Athens too. They made a lot of money, both at public expense in some states and from certain aristocrats, kings, and private citizens, to the extent that each was able.

Yet, they gave many public presentations that didn’t have the smallest shred of thought to them, but were the kinds of words from which one can harvest money from fools. There was another man from Abdera, who was so far from gaining wealth from others was not only destroying his own inheritance bit by bit, but he eventually lost all his wealth pursuing philosophy. It is clear that he was foolishly searching for something that brought him no advantage.

Ἱππίας ὁ Ἠλεῖος καὶ Γοργίας ὁ Λεοντῖνος καὶ Πῶλος καὶ Πρόδικος οἱ σοφισταὶ χρόνον τινὰ ἤνθησαν ἐν τῇ Ἑλλάδι καὶ θαυμαστῆς ἐτύγχανον φήμης, οὐ μόνον ἐν ταῖς ἄλλαις πόλεσιν, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἐν τῇ Σπάρτῃ καὶ παρ᾿ Ἀθηναίοις, καὶ χρήματα πολλὰ συνέλεξαν, δημοσίᾳ τε παρὰ τῶν πόλεων1 καὶ παρὰ δυναστῶν τινων καὶ βασιλέων καὶ ἰδιωτῶν, ὡς ἕκαστος ἔχοι δυνάμεως. ἔλεγον δὲ πολλοὺς μὲν λόγους, νοῦν δὲ οὐκ ἔχοντας οὐδὲ βραχύν· ἀφ᾿ ὧν ἔστιν, οἶμαι, χρήματα πορίζειν καὶ ἀνθρώπους ἠλιθίους ἀρέσκειν.

ἄλλος δέ τις ἀνὴρ Ἀβδηρίτης οὐχ ὅπως ἀργύριον παρ᾿ ἑτέρων ἐλάμβανεν, ἀλλὰ καὶ διέφθειρε τὴν οὐσίαν τὴν αὑτοῦ συχνὴν οὖσαν καὶ ἀπώλεσε φιλοσοφῶν, ἀναισθήτως δῆλον ὅτι, καὶ ζητῶν ὧν οὐδὲν ὄφελος αὐτῷ.

Plato, Hippias Major. 282d–e

“If you knew how much money I made, you’d freak out. This one time, I went to Sicily when Protagoras was visiting–he was well-known then and older than me–and while I was less experienced, I made more than 150 minas in a little time. In one small town alone–Inukon–I made over 20!

When I went home with that much I shocked and awed my father and the rest of our neighbors. I think I made more cash than any other two sophists put together.”

[ΙΠ.] εἰ γὰρ εἰδείης ὅσον ἀργύριον εἴργασμαι ἐγώ, θαυμάσαις ἄν· καὶ τὰ μὲν ἄλλα ἐῶ, ἀφικόμενος δέ ποτε εἰς Σικελίαν Πρωταγόρου αὐτόθι ἐπιδημοῦντος καὶ εὐδοκιμοῦντος καὶ πρεσβυτέρου ὄντος πολὺ νεώτερος ὢν ἐν ὀλίγῳ χρόνῳ πάνυ πλέον ἢ πεντήκοντα καὶ ἑκατὸν μνᾶς εἰργασάμην, καὶ ἐξ ἑνός γε χωρίου πάνυ σμικροῦ Ἰνυκοῦ πλέον ἢ εἴκοσι μνᾶς· καὶ τοῦτο ἐλθὼν οἴκαδε φέρων τῷ πατρὶ ἔδωκα, ὥστε ἐκεῖνον καὶ τοὺς ἄλλους πολίτας θαυμάζειν τε καὶ ἐκπεπλῆχθαι. καὶ σχεδόν τι οἶμαι ἐμὲ πλείω χρήματα εἰργάσθαι ἢ ἄλλους σύνδυο οὕστινας βούλει τῶν σοφιστῶν.

According to this estimate, a mina in modern terms would be around $500.00 USD. So, Hippias may have made c. $75,000.00 on his Sicilian tour.

Death Takes No Bribes

Anacreonta 36

“If wealth could give mortals life
in exchange for gold,
I would work hard on saving it,
So when Death came for me,
It could take payment and move on.

But if it is impossible for mortals
To purchase any more of life,
Why do I groan pointlessly?
And why do I mourn out loud?

Since death cannot be bought,
What use is gold to me?

I want to drink,
To drink sweet wine,
To spend time with my friends
And to honor Aphrodite
On downy beds.”

ὁ Πλοῦτος εἴ γε χρυσοῦ
τὸ ζῆν παρεῖχε θνητοῖς,
ἐκαρτέρουν φυλάττων,
ἵν᾿, ἂν Θάνατος ἐπέλθῃ,
λάβῃ τι καὶ παρέλθῃ.
εἰ δ᾿ οὖν μὴ τὸ πρίασθαι
τὸ ζῆν ἔνεστι θνητοῖς,
τί καὶ μάτην στενάζω;
τί καὶ γόους προπέμπω;
θανεῖν γὰρ εἰ πέπρωται,
τί χρυσὸς ὠφελεῖ με;
ἐμοὶ γένοιτο πίνειν,
πιόντι δ᾿ οἶνον ἡδὺν
ἐμοῖς φίλοις συνεῖναι,
ἐν δ᾿ ἁπαλαῖσι κοίταις
τελεῖν τὰν Ἀφροδίταν.

A still life oil painting. There is a skull prominently in the center, on top of money bags with documents protuding from below. on the left is a violin
N. L. Peschier, “Skull, Money Bags, and Documents” 1661

A Safeguard Against Grief

Anacreonta 56

“The one who strengthens someone in pain,
Who comforts a young one in love,
Who makes the dancer beautiful over drinks,
That god has descended to the ground,
Offering a calming lovespell for mortals,
A medicine against grief,
The vine’s child, wine.

He is guarding it safe,
Within the vines’ bunches of grapes,
So, whenever they cut the fruit,
Everyone remains free of sickness,
Healthy with shining skin
And a sweet-hearted mind,
Until the passing of another year.”

ὁ τὸν ἐν πόνοις ἀτειρῆ,
νέον ἐν πόθοις ἀταρβῆ,
καλὸν ἐν πότοις χορευτὴν
τελέων θεὸς κατῆλθε,
ἁπαλὸν βροτοῖσι φίλτρον,
πότον ἄστονον κομίζων,
γόνον ἀμπέλου, τὸν οἶνον,
ἐπὶ κλημάτων ὀπώραις
πεπεδημένον φυλάττων,
ἵν᾿, ὅταν τέμωσι βότρυν,
ἄνοσοι μένωσι πάντες,
ἄνοσοι δέμας θεητόν,
ἄνοσοι γλυκύν τε θυμὸν
ἐς ἔτους φανέντος ἄλλου.

still life oil painting. striped table cloth, plate with pears, wine jug and glass.
Adolphe Joseph Thomas Monticelli, “Still Life with Food and Wine” 1874