Never Too Late To Learn!

Petrarch, Against a Man of Great Rank (7):

I shall try, even though at an advanced age, to keep learning, so that by my vigilance I can reduce the charge against me as much as is given to me to do so. Plenty of people have learned a lot in old age: for years do not extinguish the mind, and indeed, they readily set ablaze the desire for learning, while cautious senescence looks about at what is lacking to it, because insolent youth had not seen it. Solon learned in old age, as did Socrates, as did Plato, and even Cato learned to the end. In fact, the older he got, the more thirsty for literature he was!

What is to prevent me from standing in their tracks – though with an unequal stride, it will yet be with equal desire. No one is so fast that you can’t at least chase them from far behind. Perhaps I will learn, great censor, perhaps I will learn something which will make me appear not uneducated in your eyes. I wish that you had advised me in my youth, and has left a fitting space for this fine undertaking. Yet, I will persist, and (what alone is left) I will compensate for the brevity of time with my haste. Often, in a short time or narrow space, great and illustrious things have been accomplished.

AUGNET : 4361 Francesco Petrarch

Nitar, etsi plena sit etas, adhuc discere, ut obiectum crimen, qua dabitur, vigilando diluam. Multa in senectute didicerunt multi; neque enim ingenium anni exstinguunt, et noscendi desiderium ultro accendunt, dum quid desit sibi senectus cauta circumspicit, quod insolens iuventa non viderat. Didicit in senio Solon, didicit Socrates, didicit Plato, didicit ad extremum Cato, qui quo senior, eo sitientior literarum fuit. Quid me prohibet horum vestigiis insistere, gressu licet impari, desiderio tamen pari? Nemo est tam velox, quem non longe saltem sequi valeas. Discam fortasse, magne censor, discam aliquid, quo non tam indoctus videar tibi. Vellem me in adolescentia monuisses, et iustum spatium pulcro conatui reliquisses. Instabo tamen, et, quod unum est iam reliquum, brevitatem temporis velocitate pensabo. Sepe in angusto seu temporum seu locorum magne res atque egregie geste sunt.

You Didn’t Read Today? You Have No Excuse!

Vergerio, de ingenuis moribus et liberalibus adulescentiae studiis, LIV:

“Everything will turn out well enough if our time is disposed of properly, if we on every day give fixed hours to the pursuit of literature, and he we are never dragged away by any business which prevents us from reading something every day. For, if Alexander was in the habit of reading much in his camp, and if Caesar wrote books as he was setting off with his army, and if Augustus after undertaking something so great in the Battle of Mutina nevertheless always read or wrote or declaimed every day in his tent, what could come upon us in our urban leisure which could call us far off from the study of literature? It is useful, however, for us to consider even the smallest loss of time as a great one; we should also keep an account of our time, just as we do of our life and health, so that nothing is uselessly lost, as when we commit our idle hours, (and those which others commit to leisure) to lighter studies or a bit of pleasant reading.”

Fient autem commode omnia si rite tempora dispensabuntur, si singulis diebus statutas horas litteris dabimus, neque ullo negotio abstrahemur quominus aliquid quotidie legamus. Nam si Alexander in castris lectitare plurimum solebat, si Caesar etiam cum exercitu proficiscens libros scribebat, et Augustus Mutinensi bello rem tantam adortus, semper tamen in castris legere aut scribere quotidieque declamitare consueverat, quid poterit urbano otio intervenire quod nos diu prorsus a litterarum studiis avocet? Utile autem est, ut vel cuiuslibet minimi temporis iacturam pro magna deputemus, et ita temporis, quemadmodum et vitae ac salutis, rationem habeamus, ut nihil inutiliter nobis depereat, veluti si inertes horas et quae apud ceteros otiosae sunt aut studiis levioribus dabimus aut lectione iucunda transigemus.

We Deserve More Praise For Our Latin

Gianfrancesco Pico, Letter to Pietro Bembo:

To be sure, both Greek and Latin were effectively innate to the ancients, but we must seek these languages from their books, and thus we should receive a greater accession of legitimate praise for learning them. For they, even if they were unwilling, spoke Greek in Greece and Latin in Italy; but we Italians who speak Latin (not to mention Greek) have earned and acquired that skill through our industry. Thus it will happen that, should our age happen to get a fair judge of these matters, those who now speak even in a fairly middling way will be justly preferred to those outstanding champions of old, since the men of today, having had commerce with the Goths, Vandals, and the Huns, yet retain that ancient mode of speech worn down by so many centuries, or at any rate they attempt to retain it through continual imitation, in which pursuit there is perchance a marvelous – nay, even excessive mental subtlety.

Detail from one of the graffiti images

Lingua certe veteribus illis cum Graeca tum Latina quasi nativa adfuit, quam ab eorum libris petere nos oportet, quibus maior ea de re legitimae laudis accesio. Illi enim vel nolentes et in Hellade Graece et in Italia Latine loquebantur; nobis Italis qui Latine loquamur, nedum Graece, id nostra est partum et elaboratum industria. Inde fiet aequum rerum aestimatorem si sortiatur nostra aetas, posse eos qui nunc mediocriter loquuntur praecipuis illis et antesignanis iure praeferri, qui scilicet inter Gothos, Vandalos, Hunnosque versati priscam illam et tot saeculis abolitam dicendi rationem aut teneant aut tenere conentur imitatione continua, qua etiam in re mira subtilitas et forte nimia.

A Lengthy Disquisition on Shit-Talking

Erasmus, Adagia 27:

If you say what you want to say, you will hear what you do not want to hear. St. Jerome cites this in the place of a proverb in his work Against Rufinus: ‘You will hear nothing more than this, except that from the crossroads: when you say what you want, you will hear what you don’t. Terence, in his Andria, writes:

If he continues to say what he wants, he will hear what he doesn’t.

and in his prologue to Phormio:

If he had contended against him with well-chosen words, he would have heard something good in return,

and he even alluded to the same thing in his prologue to Andria:

Let them cease to talk shit, lest they learn of their own crimes.

and somewhat more obscurely, he writes in his prologue to The Eunuch:

Then, if there is anyone who thinks that something here has been spoken a little ungenerously about him, let him think so, but understand that this was not an attack…

for by the word responsum, he means an attack made in return for another. But this passage reminds me that I should contradict the error of certain people who had written in the margin that I read in the following lines because he first did harm [quia laesit prius: indeed, thus it was written in the common copies. I, before anyone else, restored the proper reading, to wit:

Just as [quale sit] he who, first translating them well and describing them badly made bad Latin plays out of good Greek ones, and who now recently did the same for Menander’s Phasma

where the phrase quale sit has the same force as the Greek οἷον or the Latin velut or quod genus sit, which we use when we are about to lay out an example. For he was recounting the act of returning an assault, and then he added an example, and then first [prius] responds to the adverb which follows, recently [nuper]. So the sense is something like, ‘who earlier had translated many plays badly, which you now do not remember, also recently produced that shitty version of the Phasma, which you can remember.’

But, to return to the subject at hand, it seems that Homer was the father of this adage, and we read in this verse of Book 20,

              Ὁπποῖόν κ᾽ εἴπῃσθα ἔπος, τοῖόν κ᾽ ἐπακούσαις, that is,

You will hear such a speech as you have just made.

Similarly, Hesiod, in his Works and Days, writes,

Εἰ δὲ κακόν τ᾽ εἴποις, τάχα κ᾽ αὐτὸς μεῖζον ἀκούσαις,  that is

It is likely that to one talking shit, much shit will be talked in turn.

And again in that same book,

Εἰ δέ κεν ἄρχῃ

Ἤ τι ἔπος εἰπὼν ἀποθύμιον ἠὲ καὶ ἔρξας,

Δὶς τόσα τίννυσθαι μεμνημένος,  that is,

If first you yourself either say or do some bad word or deed, you will see it return to you with doubled interest.

Euripides, in his Alcestis, writes:

Εἰ δ᾽ ἡμᾶς κακῶς

Ἐρεῖς, ἀκούσῃ πολλὰ κοὐ ψευδῆ κακά,  that is,

If you talk some shit to me, you will hear a lot of shit in turn, and it will be true.

But Sophocles expressed the same sentiment in a much more charming way, and Plutarch cites him thus:

Φιλεῖ γὰρ γλῶτταν ἐκχέας μάτην

Ἄκων ἀκούειν οὒς ἑκὼν εἴπῃ λόγους, that is,

Indeed, the one who has tossed about his words carelessly is usually unwilling to hear what he was willing to say.

But the phrase from Sophocles is actually:

Φιλεῖ δὲ πολλὴν γλῶσσαν ἐκχέας μάτην

Ἄκων ἀκούειν οὓς ἑκὼν εἶπεν κακῶς,  that is

The one who pours out words carelessly is usually unwilling to hear the kind of shit he talked.

Indeed, even in our own times, the common saying goes, As you greet someone, so too will you be greeted, which is to say that people will respond to you in the manner of your own speech. Plautus writes, If you speak an insult, you will hear one. Caecilius, in his Chrysius as cited by Gellius, writes: You will hear an insult if you speak one to me. The same sense can be had from that Euripidean verse which one encounters in some authors, Ἀχαλίνων στομάτων ἀνόμου τ᾽ ἀφροσύνης τὸ τέλος δυστυχία, that is, The end of unbridled mouths and ungoverned madness is calamity. Celebrated among Chilon’s sayings is, Μὴ κακολογεῖν τοὺς πλησίον·εἰ δὲ μή, ἀκούσεσθαι ἐφ᾽ οἷς λυπήσεσθαι, that is, Don’t talk shit to those near you; otherwise you will hear what may case you pain. I think one could also add the little verse which Quintilian said was popular among the common people: He did not really insult him, because the other guy insulted him first.

              440px-Phlyax_scene_Louvre_CA7249

QVI QVAE VVLT DICIT, QVAE NON VVLT AVDIET

Si dixeris quae vis, quae non vis audies. Diuus Hieronymus in Rufinum nominatim prouerbii loco citat: Nihilque super hoc audies, inquit, nisi illud e triuio: cum dixeris quae vis, audies quae non vis. Terentius in Andria:  Si mihi pergit quae vult dicere, quae non vult audiet. Rursum in prologo Phormionis: Benedictis si certasset, audisset bene. Eodem allusit in prologo Andriae: Desinant Maledicere, malefacta ne noscant sua. Obscurius etiam in prologo Eunuchi: Tum si quis est, qui dictum in se inclementius Existimet esse, sic existimet, sciat  Responsum non dictum esse, responsum enim vocat conuicium conuicio redditum. Sed hic locus admonet, vt quorundam errorem coarguam, qui in margine  dscripserant me in his quae sequuntur legere, quia laesit prius: imo sic legebatur in vulgatis exemplaribus. Ego primus ex fide veterum restitui germanam lectionem, nimirum hanc:

Quale sit, prius   Qui bene vertendo et eas describendo male

Ex Graecis bonis Latinas fecit non bonas, Idem Menandri Phasma nunc nuper dedit,

vt quale sit idem valeat quod apud Graecos οἷον, apud Latinos ‘velut’ aut ‘quod genus sit’, quibus vtimur exemplum proposituri. Meminerat enim de conuicio regerendo, eius mox subiicit exemplum, deinde prius respondet ad aduerbium quod sequitur, nuper. Qui prius male verterat multas fabulas, quarum non meministis, idem nuper dedit ineptam fabulam Phasma, cuius potestis meminisse. Verum vt ad rem redeamus, primus huius adagii pater Homerus fuisse videtur, apud quem hic versus est in Iliadis Υ:

Ὁπποῖόν κ᾽ εἴπῃσθα ἔπος, τοῖόν κ᾽ ἐπακούσαις,  id est Talia dicentur tibi, qualia dixeris ipse.

Item Hesiodus libro, cui titulus Opera et dies: Εἰ δὲ κακόν τ᾽ εἴποις, τάχα κ᾽ αὐτὸς μεῖζον ἀκούσαις,  id est  Fors male dicenti dicentur plura vicissim. Rursus in eodem:

Εἰ δέ κεν ἄρχῃ

Ἤ τι ἔπος εἰπὼν ἀποθύμιον ἠὲ καὶ ἔρξας,

Δὶς τόσα τίννυσθαι μεμνημένος,  id est

Si quod prior ipse

Aut verbum aut factum dicasue gerasue molestum,

Ad te cum duplici rediturum foenore noris.

Euripides in Alcestide:

Εἰ δ᾽ ἡμᾶς κακῶς

Ἐρεῖς, ἀκούσῃ πολλὰ κοὐ ψευδῆ κακά,  id est

Si dixeris nobis male,

Mala inuicem permulta nec falsa audies.

Longe venustius idem extulit Sophocles citante Plutarcho:

Φιλεῖ γὰρ γλῶτταν ἐκχέας μάτην

Ἄκων ἀκούειν οὒς ἑκὼν εἴπῃ λόγους,  id est

Etenim solet qui dicta temere iecerit,

Audire nolens verba, quae dixit volens.

Refertur ex Sophocle:

Φιλεῖ δὲ πολλὴν γλῶσσαν ἐκχέας μάτην

Ἄκων ἀκούειν οὓς ἑκὼν εἶπεν κακῶς,  id est

Qui multa temere verba fudit, is solet

Audire nolens quae volens dixit male.

Quin etiam his nostris temporibus eiusmodi quiddam vulgo dictitant: Vt salutabis, ita et resalutaberis, hoc est vt tua fuerit oratio, ita tibi respondebitur. Plautus: Contumeliam si dices, audies. Caecilius in Chrysio apud Gellium: Audibis male, si male dicis mihi. Eodem pertinet Euripideum illud apud autores passim obuium: Ἀχαλίνων στομάτων ἀνόμου τ᾽ ἀφροσύνης τὸ τέλος δυστυχία, id est Infrenis oris et iniquae vecordiae finis seu vectigal, calamitas. Celebratur et hoc inter Chilonis apophthegmata: Μὴ κακολογεῖν τοὺς πλησίον· εἰ δὲ μή, ἀκούσεσθαι ἐφ᾽ οἷς λυπήσεσθαι, id est Non esse maledicendum iis, quibuscum agimus; alioquin audituros, quae molestiam adferant. Huc arbitror asscribendum versiculum, quem Quintilianus vt vulgo iactatum citat: Nec male respondit, male enim prior ille rogarat.

The Proper Use of Antiquarianism

Aeneas Silvius Piccolomini, de Educatione Liberorum LV: (ft. Aulus Gellius!)

“A certain majesty grants an almost religious attraction to old words. For, those words which have been found in antiquity not only have great champions, but they also lend a certain pleasing gravity to a speech. Since they have also the authority of antiquity, and because they have been lost for some time, they give rise both to pleasure and novelty. Yet it is necessary that they not be too obvious or thickly crowded together, because there is nothing more hateful than vain affectation, nor should they be all sought from the remotest and most forgotten times. One should bear in mind the advice of the philosopher Favorinus, who, as it is said in the Attic Nights of Aulus Gellius, said to a young man who was eagerly desirous of words and was in the habit of bringing out the most ancient and unknown expressions in his daily, common conversation,

‘Curius Fabricius and Coruncanius, themselves the most ancient men, and even the three Horatii who are more ancient still, talked plainly and clearly in their everyday speech. Nor did they use any of the foreign words of the Aurunci or Sicani, who are said to be the first inhabitants of Italy; rather, they spoke with the words of their own time. But you go on now as though you were talking with the mother of Evander. You use speech which has been out of use for many years now, because you would have no one known or understand what you are saying. You fool, would you not better achieve your purpose by remaining silent? But you said that antiquity pleases you because it is honest, noble, sober, and chaste. Live, then, with ancient morals but speak with modern words, and hold always in your memory and your heart that saying of Julius Caesar, a man of the highest intellect and prudence, which is written in the first book of his de Analogia: “flee from an unknown and unusual word as you would flee a rocky crag.”’

You should then employ moderation to ensure that you not use ancient words in excess, or use ones which are too obscure or obsolete.”

Vetusta verba maiestas quaedam, ut sic dixerim, religiose commendat. Nam quae sunt a vetustate reperta, non solum magnos assertores habent, sed etiam afferunt orationi gravitatem non sine delectatione, cum et auctoritatem antiquitatis habeant, et quia intermissa sunt, gratiam novitati similem pariunt. Sed opus est, ne crebra sint nec manifesta, quia nihil odiosious affectatione, nec utique ab ultimis et obliteratis repetita temporibus. Meminisse oportet Favoni philosophi, qui, ut est dictum apud Aulum Gellium De Noctibus Atticis, adolescenti verborum cupidissimo et plerasque voces nimis priscias et ignotissimas in quotidianis communibusque sermonibus expromenti, ‘Curius,’ inquit, ‘et Fabricius et Coruncanius, antiquissimi viri et his antiquiores, Horatii trigemini, plane et dilucide cum suis fabulati sunt, nec Auruncorum nec Sicanorum, qui primum coluisse Italiam dicuntur, quicquam dictasse peregrini reperimus, sed aetatis suae verbis locuti sunt. Tu autem, proinde quasi cum Evandri nunc loquare; sermone ab hinc multis annis iam desito uteris, quod scire atque intelligere neminem vis, quae dicas. Nonne, homo inepte, ut, quod vis, abunde consequaris, taces? Sed antiquitatem tibi placere ais, quod honesta et bona et sobria et modesta sit. Vive ergo moribus praeteritis, loquere verbis praesentibus atque id, quod a C. Caesare, excellentis ingenii ac prudentiae viro, in primo de analogia libro scriptum est, habe semper in memoria atque in pectore, ut “tamquam scopulum, sic fugias inauditum atque insolens verbum”. Adhibenda est ergo moderatio, ne vel nimia sint, vel nimis obscura, vel omnino refutata, quae a vetustate verba recipiuntur.

A Saying for Windbags, Chatterers, Praters, etc. etc. etc.

Erasmus, Adagia 7:

“Δωδωναῖον χαλκεῖον, that is, a Dodonaean cymbal or bell. This is usually said against someone of improper or unsuitable loquacity. Zenodotus cites it from the Ariphorus of Menander. He says however that in Dodona there were two lofty columns; on one of these was placed a bronze basin, and on the other a hanging image of a boy holding a bronze scourge in his hand. Whenever the wind blew violently, it would happen that the whip would strike the basin, which in turn would give out a sound that lasted for a long time. Some refer the saying back to Corinthian bronze, which sounds more clearly than other types of bronze. Stephanus, is his entry for Dodona, mentions this saying. Juvenal seems to have alluded to the saying when he wrote,

‘You would think that so many basins, so many bells had been struck at once

when writing against feminine garrulity. Suidas [the Suda] applies a different interpretation of the saying from the Daemon. He says that there was once an oracle of Zeus in Dodona which was surrounded on all sides by bronze kettles, arranged so that they would all touch each other in turn. So, it necessarily happened that when one was struck, all of them would resound through contact, with the note proceeding from each to the others. That ringing noise lasted for a long time, with the sound going round in a circle. He thinks that it is a proverb spoken against those despicable people who complain about even the smallest thing. Yet Aristotle rejects this idea, and brings to bear a different interpretation, which I have just related, about the two columns and the statue of the boy. Plutarch, in his commentary On Chattering, writes that there was in Olympia a certain portico built with mathematical proportions in such a way that it would echo one voice as many, and on that account was called the Seven-Sounder. He compares excessively loquacious people to this portico, because if you touch them with one little verb, they will immediately pour out such a volume of words that there will not be any total end to their insipid chatter. Julius Pollux mentions this saying in his sixth book, in the chapter about chatty people, by using these words: the bronze from Dodona.”

Image result for erasmus

Dodonaeum aes.vii

Δωδωναῖον χαλκεῖον, id est Dodonaeum cymbalum aut tintinnabulum. In hominem dici consuevit improbae atque importunae loquacitatis. Zenodotus citat ex Ariphoro Menandri. Tradit autem in Dodona duas fuisse sublimes columnas, in altera positam pelvim aeream, in altera pensile pueri simulachrum flagellum aereum manu tollentis, quoties autem ventus vehementius flauerit, fieri ut scutica impulsa crebrius lebetem feriat isque percussus tinnitum reddat ad multum etiam temporis resonantem. Alii referunt ad aera Corinthia, quae prae caeteris clarius tinniant. Meminit hujus adagii Stephanus in dictione Dodone. Juvenalis ad adagium allusisse videtur, cum ait :

Tot pariter pelves, tot tintinnabula credas

Pulsari,

muliebrem garrulitatem taxans. Suidas diversam adagii adfert interpretationem ex Daemone. Ait enim oraculum Jovis quod olim erat in Dodona, lebetibus aereis undique cinctum fuisse, ita ut inuicem sese contingerent. Itaque necessum erat fieri, ut uno quopiam pulsato vicissim et omneis resonarent sonitu per contactum ab aliis ad alios succedente. Durabatque in longum tempus tinnitus ille, videlicet in orbem redeunte sono. Putatque paroemiam dictam in sordidos et quantumvis pusilla de re querulos. Verum Aristoteles hoc commentum ut ficticium refellit adferens aliud interpretamentum, quod modo retulimus, de columnis duabus et simulachro pueri. Plutarchus in commentario Περὶ τῆς ἀδολεσχίας indicat in Olympia porticum quandam fuisse ratione mathematica ita compositam, ut pro una voce multas redderet, atque ob id ἑπτάφωνον appellatam. Cumque hac confert homines impendio loquaces, quos si verbulo tangas, continuo referunt tantum verborum, ut nullus omnino sit garriendi finis. Meminit hujus adagionis et Iulius Pollux libro sexto, capite de loquacibus, his verbis : τὸ ἐκ Δωδώνης χαλκεῖον.

Revising The Future of the Past

Livy, Ab Urbe Condita 4.25

“An epidemic in that year provided a break from other problems.”

Pestilentia eo anno aliarum rerum otium praebuit.

Today Nandini Pandey has a smart piece out in Eidolon (“Classics After Coronavirus“) where she asks a group of people who see different perspectives of Classical Studies to think about what impact COVID-19 will have on the future of these disciplines. (And it is smart not because she asked me to write something for it, but because she got a group of really smart other people to write thoughtfully in the midst of a crises: check out the article for good prognostications by Joy Connolly, Sarah Bond, Amy Pistone, Del A. Maticic, Scott Lepisto, Michelle Bayouth, Mira Seo and Shelley P. Halley”).

It’s no secret around my house that I think about these things a lot. Really, I am one or two turns in life away from being straight-up prepper. And I may be breaking a little alarmist here, but I worry that COVID-19 is merely a dress-rehearsal for the ravages of climate change, which may well include new pandemics in additional to destabilized weather. Even more frightening, old pandemics and viruses could find new life our changing environment.

At least, this is what science fiction says: archaeologists in Connie Willis’ Doomsday Book resurrect the boubonic plague while plying their craft. It’s not all bad: Greg Bear’s Darwin’s Radio presents an ancient retrovirus that hastens the next stage in human evolution. But, really, apart from that, it gets pretty bad: the worst usually comes when man conspires with nature as in the famous apocalypse of Stephen King’s The Stand or the vampire trilogy by Justin Cronin (The Passage, The Twelve, and The City of Mirrors) which centers, gulp, around academics playing with life and death in places like Cambridge, MA and New York City.

My point is not that we should keep hoarding toilet paper and hand sanitizer, but that I think my comments in the Eidolon piece do not go nearly far enough because, as I think Scott Lepisto is starting to say, we need radical change fast and we’re not talking about Classics. If there is a silver lining in this shitberg our current leadership is piloting straight towards, it is that we might just get hurt enough to change our ways, to avoid the worst of what could come.

Or, well, that’s what I say so I can sleep tonight. At the end of it, the fact is that we are more likely to see a civilization shifting cataclysm now than five years ago. And we should be thinking about what that means for the way we talk about the past.

So here’s a re-post from last year.

*     *     *     *

In the final book of Liu Cixin’s Remembrance of Earth’s Past trilogy, Death’s End, when faced with an unstoppable extinction-level event, Cheng Xin and Ai AA go to the distant edge of the solar system to try to preserve some artifacts of human existence from the encroachment of two-dimensional space. When they reach the isolated moon bunker where many of the objects are stored, they come upon miles of inscriptions in the surface rock. Previous plans to preserve human knowledge had included etching human history and knowledge into the stone. Teams of scientists and data specialists could devise no method which ensured as long a future as the multilingual inscriptions in space.

Any system of encoding and preserving knowledge—whether we are talking of raw, binary data or language—relies upon two challenges for legibility in the future. The first is a ‘key’—some type of instruction that might indicate to readers unfamiliar with language or code how to make meaning out of signs. The second challenge is medium—how do the materials which encode the information respond to the passage of time and elements.

Encrypted digital data in every form faces the danger of significant loss under even the best of conditions; changing software and computational paradigms can make accessing extant data even more difficult. The decryption of preserved digital data relies on the end-user being able to access functional hardware and manipulate the same original data protocol. Despite the ability to extend human life centuries through hibernation and the technology to create space ships which traveled at the speed of light, the humans of Cixin’s universe can find no better way to preserve the past than cold, alien stone.

The survival of the past into the future is something of a motif in science fiction, thanks to its longue durée perspective. Just in the past year, I have read of the ‘classicist’ in Adrian Tchaikovksy’s Children of Time series, a figure whose knowledge of the past and ability to use ancient programs makes him central to the survival of the human race. In many cases, such as the works of Isaac Asimov, the Earth we know and the past we cherish is entirely forgotten or mostly unsalvageable. But for every novel that imagines the preservation of knowledge over time—like Neal Stephenson’s Anathem—we have the more stark reality to deal with of strange re-uses of our reconstructed past as in Ada Palmer’s Terra Incognota series or generations of lost knowledge over time, as in Walter Miller Jr.’s classic, A Canticle for Leibowitz.

“The prophecy which was given to the Thessalians was ordering them to consider “the hearing of a deaf man; the sight of the blind.”

ὁ μὲν γὰρ Θετταλοῖς περὶ Ἄρνης δοθεὶς χρησμὸς ἐκέλευε φράζειν: “κωφοῦ τ᾿ ἀκοὴν τυφλοῖό τε δέρξιν”  Plutarch, Obsolesence Of Oracles (Moralia 432)

A widely linked recent article alleges that the human race has around 30 years left, that by 2050 climate change will create a systems collapse that will end human civilization as we currently know it. Similar reports diverge at whether the extinction event that is the Anthropocene will also eradicate the human species or just result in a cruel, apocalyptic contraction. Even if we find the political will to radically change our behavior over the next few years, we are looking at the almost certain probability of widespread government collapses, severe famine and death in the ‘global south’, and widespread conflicts over resources.

Continue reading “Revising The Future of the Past”

It’s Too Late!

Erasmus, Adagia 28

This proverb is taken in term from the oldest tragedy of Livius Andronicus, which is called The Trojan Horse: ‘The Trojans understand too late.’ This is taken up by Cicero in his Familiar Letters. He says, ‘You know that in The Trojan Horse there is this line: “the Trojans understand too late.”’ This is an apt expression for those who foolishly regret their deeds when it is too late. Since indeed, the Trojans, after suffering so many disasters, only began to discuss returning Helen in the tenth year of the war. If they had immediately given her back to Menelaus when he had asked at the beginning, they would have exempted themselves from innumerable calamities. Euripides writes in his Orestes:

Ὀψέ γε φρονεῖς εὖ, τότε λιποῦσ᾽ αἰσχρῶς δόμους,

that is, But now surely you understand too late, since you then left the home                shamefully.

For these are the words of Electra to Helen. It is also recalled by Festus Pompeius in the inscription of a proverb. According to Plutarch, Demades was accustomed to say that the Athenians never decided on peace unless they had already put on their mourning clothes, hinting to the fact that they were more desirous of waging war than was appropriate, and did not wish to think of peace unless they had first been warned by the loss of their own. But how much more foolish than the Athenians are we, who after learving from the sufferings of so many years even now do not hate war, and do not even finally begin to think of the peace which should always exist among Christians.

File:Master of the Eneid Legend - Greek soldiers hide into the Trojan horse (Louvre, OA 7553).jpg

SERO SAPIVNT PHRYGES

Hoc prouerbium ex vetustissima tragoedia Liuii Andronici mutuo sumptum est, quae inscribitur Equus Troianus: Sero sapiunt Phryges. Vsurpatur a Cicerone in Epistolis familiaribus: In equo, inquit, Troiano scis esse: sero sapiunt Phryges. Conuenit in eos, quos stulte factorum sero poenitet. Siquidem Troiani tot iam acceptis cladibus vix decimo demum anno de restituenda Helena consultare coeperunt; quam si statim initio reposcenti Menelao reddidissent, innumerabilibus sese calamitatibus subduxissent. Euripides in Oreste:

 Ὀψέ γε φρονεῖς εὖ, τότε λιποῦσ᾽ αἰσχρῶς δόμους,

id est. At nunc profecto serius sapis bene, 

Cum tunc penates turpiter reliqueris.

Nam verba sunt ad Helenam Electrae. Refertur et a Festo Pompeio prouerbii titulo. Demades autore Plutarcho dicere solebat Athenienses nunquam decernere pacem nisi pullis vestibus indutos, innuens eos bellandi cupidiores quam sat esset, nec nisi clade suorum admonitos de pace cogitare. At nos quanto sumus Atheniensibus vecordiores, qui ne tot quidem annorum malis docti bellum odimus nec de pace, quam inter Christianos perpetuam esse oportebat, tandem incipimus cogitare.

Taking Extreme Measures

Erasmus, Adagia 25:

Diogenianus thinks that this has the same force: Κινῶ τὸν ἀφ᾽ ἱερᾶς, that is, I move the die from the sacred line. This is said of those who are about to undertake the most extreme measures. Julius Pollux, laying this out in his ninth book, says that the adage derives from a certain kind of dice game, and that the game was of this sort: for each of the players, there were five little stones placed upon the same number of lines, from which Sophocles said πεσσὰ πεντέγραμμα, that is, the dice of the five lines. Between those lines (five on each side) there was one in the middle, which they called sacred. Whoever moved the die past that point was said to have moved the die of the sacred line. But that never happened except when the game demanded it, when the player needed to flee to their last resort.

Plato employs this adage in the fifth book of his Laws: Καθάπερ πεττῶν ἀφ᾽ ἱεροῦ, that is, As if from the sacred die. Plutarch, in his book, Whether the Republic Should Be Run by an Old Man, writes: Τελευταίαν ὥσπερ τὴν ἀφ᾽ ἱερᾶς ἐπάγουσιν ἡμῖν τὸ γῆρας, that is, they charge us with senility as if moving the die from the sacred line, which is to say, this is the gravest charge. Plutarch also says in his Comparison of Terrestrial and Marine Things: Φέρε κινήσαντες τὴν ἀφ᾽ ἱερᾶς βραχέα περὶ θειότητος αὐτῶν καὶ μαντικῆς εἴπωμεν, that is, Come on, let’s move the die from the sacred line and talk a little about their divinity and divination. And again he writes in his essay Against Colotes: Εὐθὺς οὖν τὸν ἀφ᾽ ἱερᾶς κεκίνηκεν ὁ Κολώτης, that is, Colotes straightaway moved the die from the sacred line, which is to say that he immediately proceeded to the most extreme measure, so that he could attack the judgment of Apollo concerning Socrates. Plutarch also writes in the life of Martius Coriolanus, about the Roman people being disturbed by Coriolanus’ threats, Ἄρα τὴν ἀφ᾽ ἱερᾶς ἀφῆκεν, that is, he tossed away the die taken from the sacred line, because the Romans, with all hope of success having been lost, fleed to the religion of the gods and sent priests, temple custodians, initiators, and augurs to supplicate the gods. Theocritus alludes to this in his Bucolics: Καὶ τὸν ἀπὸ γραμμᾶς κινεῖ λίθον, that is, and he moves the stone from the little line, which I have mentioned elsewhere.

Mosaic of Gamblers

MOVEBO TALVM A SACRA LINEA

Idem pollere putat Diogenianus: Κινῶ τὸν ἀφ᾽ ἱερᾶς, id est Sacrae lineae talum moueo. De iis, qui extrema parant experiri. Id Iulius Pollux libro nono exponens ait a ludo quopiam tesserarum natum esse adagium. Lusum autem fuisse huiusmodi, vt vtrique ludentium essent calculi quinque totidem impositi lineis; vnde et Sophocles dixerit πεσσὰ πεντέγραμμα, id est tesserae quinque linearum. Inter eas lineas, vtrinque quinas, vnam fuisse mediam, quam sacram vocabant; vnde qui talum mouisset, is sacrae lineae calculum mouere dicebatur. Id vero non fiebat, nisi cum res posceret, vt ludens ad extrema confugeret auxilia. Vsurpat hoc adagium Plato libro De legibus quinto: Καθάπερ πεττῶν ἀφ᾽ ἱεροῦ, id est Tanquam a sacra tessera. Plutarchus in libro, qui inscribitur An seni sit gerenda respublica: Τελευταίαν ὥσπερ τὴν ἀφ᾽ ἱερᾶς ἐπάγουσιν ἡμῖν τὸ γῆρας, id est Postremam nobis tanquam a sacra linea senectam allegant, hoc est veluti causam grauissimam. Idem commentario De comparatione terrestrium ac marinorum: Φέρε κινήσαντες τὴν ἀφ᾽ ἱερᾶς βραχέα περὶ θειότητος αὐτῶν καὶ μαντικῆς εἴπωμεν, id est Age moto talo a sacra linea paucis de diuinitate eorum et diuinatione dicamus. Rursum idem Aduersus Colotam Epicureum: Εὐθὺς οὖν τὸν ἀφ᾽ ἱερᾶς κεκίνηκεν ὁ Κολώτης, id est Protinus igitur talum a sacra mouit Colotes, hoc est statim id quod est grauissimum aggressus est, vt impugnaret Apollinis de Socrate iudicium. Idem in vita Martii Coriolanide ciuitate Romana ob Coriolani minas perturbata: Ἄρα τὴν ἀφ᾽ ἱερᾶς ἀφῆκεν, id est Sublatam a sacra linea tesseram misit. Desperatis enim rebus ad deorum religionem confugiebat supplicatum missis sacrificis, aedituis, initiatoribus, auguribus etc. Huc allusit et Theocritus in Bucoliastis: Καὶ τὸν ἀπὸ γραμμᾶς κινεῖ λίθον, id est Atque a lineola lapidem mouet, de quo nobis et alias facta mentio.

A Little Calamity, Please!

Bartolomeo Scala, Dialogue of Consolation (§13):

I too, (if I may finally speak about myself), have long made an effort to know myself, and when I say that I was overflowing with such goods and enjoying such felicity, I could not find any cause in myself why I should enjoy fortunes of this sort. I was anxious in the midst of my great fortune, and that well expressed and humane sentiment of Philip of Macedon came into my mind. For, when on one and the sane day it was announced to him that his son Alexander was born, and that his chariots had been victorious in Olympia, and that the Dardanian army had been overcome by his general Parmenio, he was not elated by such happy news because he was a man accustomed to the game of Fortune, but rather he raised his eyes to the sky, and begged for a minor calamity to befall him for such great happiness.

Image result for bartolomeo scala

Ego quoque, ut aliquando tandem ad me veniam, iampridem id dabam operam ut me cognoscerem, cumque tantis affluentem me bonis, tantaque utentem felicitate intellgerem, nullamque in me cur huiusmodi me fortunis dignarer causam reperirem, eram in magna quidem felicitate vehementer anxius, illaque Philippi Macedonis bene humana sententia veniebat in mentem. Cum enim uno eodemque die esset nuntiatum et Alexandrum sibi filium natum esse et se Olympia quadrigis vicisse et Dardanos hostes a Parmenione praefecto suo fuisse superatos, non est, vir fortunae assuetus ludo, tam laetis nuntiis aliquid elatus, sed oculos ad caelum tollens, mediocrem pro tantis bonis calamitatem deprecatus est.