εἰ γὰρ καλὸν γενέθλιον ἦμαρ! Sententiae Antiquae is Four Years Old

This site is now four-years old—it has transformed a bit from its first days where we posted a line or two of text a day.  Some days, I find myself wondering if my time could be put to better use. But then I read through what we have done here and find myself not just entertained but reminded of all the things I still don’t know. (And those I am using this site to remember for me…)

No Epitaph needed yet...
No Epitaph needed yet…

In honor of the three-year anniversary last year, we got a little silly trying to figure out how someone might say “Happy Birthday” in Ancient Greek (whether someone actually would say that is another question).  The post became our most popular of all time.

Since this time last year, we went a little crazy over the Homeric Batrakhomuomakhia (“The Battle of Frogs and Mice”). We did a translation and a full commentary. Meanwhile, we drew some inspiration from time abroad in Siena, Italy 

There were some heady days too.  We engaged in some translation tomfoolery, attempting to put the words of Paul Holdengraber’s mother (“Two Ears, One Mouth”) into Greek, Latin and verse) only to find out the proverb was already in Latin and Greek (and Danish and Arabic too!).

In the category of obsessions, we also investigated the numerous children of Odysseus not named Telemachus in vertiginous detail. /. When we weren’t immersed in mythography, we relaxed our severe standards a bit and got a bit naughty with poets like Martial (who instructed us on the difference between a finger and a penis). And, we even got another correspondent, the Fabulous Festus, to join in on the fun.

To be honest, we spent a good deal over time over the past year considering and championing the strange and obscure—probably posting too much from the Scholia to Lykophron’s Alexandra.  This was the year we got addicted to anecdotes, quoting liberally from Aulus Gellius (he knows why Socrates stayed married!), Aelian (who tells the heart-breaking story of Thrasyllos and other people’s ships), and Philostratus (who tells us that Demosthenes refrained from wine!). Oh, we also took our quotes on a marathon.

Last year also witnessed the inclusion of anecdotes from and about scholars of the ancient world  (Dr. Johnson: “Greek, sir, is like lace; every man gets as much of it as he can.” ) This was edifying at times—we learned why Housman failed to learn names of his students. And we learned about the darker side of lexicography in tales of Dr. Liddell himself.

Despite much of this silliness and revelry in the bizarre, we also used the site to explore other parts of the classics—for example, a course I taught on leadership in the ancient world, tried to teach ancient cavalry tactics using Risk pieces and put down some thoughts about how classical authors have influenced my approach to teaching.

Thanks to all who read this site for another fun year. The interest and support we have received has been both humbling and heartening. Here’s Euripides fr.910 to raise the tenor of the post a bit:

“Happy is he who has learned from inquiry
Not because he searches for pain for his countrymen
Nor some other unjust deeds
But because he seeks out the ageless order
of immortal nature—where
it came together, where it came from
And how.
Such men never harbor
A love of shameful deeds.”

ὄλβιος ὅστις τῆς ἱστορίας
ἔσχε μάθησιν,
μήτε πολιτῶν ἐπὶ πημοσύνην
μήτ’ εἰς ἀδίκους πράξεις ὁρμῶν,
ἀλλ’ ἀθανάτου καθορῶν φύσεως
κόσμον ἀγήρων, πῇ τε συνέστη
καὶ ὅπῃ καὶ ὅπως.
τοῖς δὲ τοιούτοις οὐδέποτ’ αἰσχρῶν.

Forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit: Some Vergilian Quotes on His Birthday

Publius Vergilius Maro was born on this day in 70 BCE. He is probably best known for the challenging and unforgettable Aeneid, but his Eclogues and Georgics are eminently quotable. Oh, and a man who writes his own epitaph deserves some respect:

http://twitter.com/DMendelsohn1960/status/654714935671296001

Here are a handful of  our favorite lines.

Aeneid, 1.203

Perhaps one day it will be a joy to remember also these things”

forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit

Eclogues, 3.60

“Beginnings are from Jove, oh Muses! Everything is full of Jove”

ab Jove principium, Musae; Jovis omnia plena

Aeneid, 6.266

“Let me have the right to speak what I have heard”

sit mihi fas audita loqui

Georgics, 1.505-7

“Right and wrong are turned upside down: so many wars throughout the world, so many faces of wickedness, the plow is given no proper respect”

fas versum atque nefas: tot bella per orbem,
tam multae scelerum facies, non ullus aratro
dignus honos

Aeneid, 7.312

“If I cannot bend the gods, I will move Acheron”.

flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.

Eclogues, 4.18-20

“And for you, little boy, the uncultivated earth will scatter its first small gifts, wandering ivy and cyclamens everywhere, beans mixed with laughing acanthus”

at tibi prima puer nullo munuscula cultu / errantis hederas passim cum baccare tellus / mixtaque ridenti colocasia fundet acantho.

Aeneid, 12.677

“Whither Zeus and cruel Fortune summon, let us go.”

quo deus et quo dura vocat Fortuna sequamur.

How To Say “Happy Birthday” in Ancient Greek

This is our first post from an airplane. And it is a re-post. It is my wife’s birthday. Thanks to the insanity of this site, I can now wish her happy birthday in Ancient Greek.

After tweeting in desperation last night, I awoke with a mission: to learn more about birthdays in ancient Greek (whether they observed them, how and what, if anything, they said). I sent some emails and then started in two logical places: a Greek phrase book and the Oxford Classical Dictionary.

H. W. Auden’s Greek Phrase Book provides a phrase for observing birthday sacrifices: τὰ γενέθλια ἑστιᾶν (1963, 44)

Oxford Classical Dictionary. 3rd Edition (s.v. Birthday): γενέθλιος ἡμέρα: The ancient Greeks celebrated the birthdays of some of the Olympian gods during the days of the month. Birthdays, according to this entry, became more significant along with ruler-cults and biographical traditions. The Romans seem to have celebrated birthdays from an early period.

Then the Homerist and all-around good-guy Erwin Cook told me via email that we know little about the birthday sacrifices held in the Archaic and early Classical periods, but he pointed me to Aeschylus’ mention in the Eumenides of giving a birthday gift to Apollo (8-9):

Φοίβη• δίδωσι δ’ ἣ γενέθλιον δόσιν
Φοίβῳ• τὸ Φοίβης δ’ ὄνομ’ ἔχει παρώνυμον.

Euripides also mentions birthday sacrifices (Ion 805): παιδὸς προθύσων ξένια καὶ γενέθλια.   Our friend, Platosparks, tells me that modern Greeks use καλά γενέθλια as a benediction, which seems like a nice derivation from the sacrifice. But multiple respondents have reported something like the following for modern Greek usage:

All of which is good to know. Phrynichus tells us a little about the Athenian practice–but not enough (Eklogai, 75.1-3):

“Genesia are not strictly speaking on the day of birth. Among the Athenians, the genesia are a festival. It is better to call them days of birth or birth-day sacrifices.”

Γενέσια οὐκ ὀρθῶς τίθεται ἐπὶ τῆς γενεθλίου ἡμέρας• Γενέσια γὰρ ᾿Αθήνησιν ἑορτή. λέγειν οὖν δεῖ τὰς γενεθλίους ἡμέρας ἢ γενέθλια.

But, as with many rituals from the ancient world, we know little about what they entailed and what they meant to the individuals who practiced them. The historian Appian gives us the kernel of the phrase ‘birthday’ (γενέθλιον ἦμαρ) as well:

εἰσὶ δ’ οἳ καὶ λέγουσιν αὐτὸν εἰσηγήσασθαι τὴν ἡμέραν θέσθαι τῇ πόλει γενέθλιον

Plato (Alcibiades 121c7) notes that all of Asia celebrates the birthday of the great King:

ὧν ἂν ἄρχῃ, εἶτα εἰς τὸν ἄλλον χρόνον ταύτῃ τῇ ἡμέρᾳ βασιλέως γενέθλια πᾶσα θύει καὶ ἑορτάζει ἡ ᾿Ασία• ἡμῶν

Lucian, Gallos 9.10 writes of gathering together to celebrate a daughter’s birthday:, “Μίκυλλε,” φησί, “θυγατρὸς τήμερον ἑστιῶ γενέθλια καὶ παρεκάλεσα τῶν φίλων μάλα πολλούς• ἐπεὶ δέ τινά φασιν αὐτῶν. See also Hermotimus 11.12 for a daughter’s birthday feast.

But nowhere could I find an indication of how to wish good fortune on the birthday. We know then that a birthday gift was a thing; that birthday sacrifices and eventually feasts were also culturally recognized phenomena. But no benediction was to be found. (which doesn’t mean that there isn’t one somewhere!)

So, using the Latin Felix Dies Natalis as a model (and the phrase γενέθλιον ἦμαρ from Appian, paralleled in the Greek Anthology as PlatoSparks notes in the comments) and choosing the neuter form to hedge as to whether this is accusative (in an absolute sense) or nominative, I decided to make it up myself (and I take Palaiophron’s comments below to heart, this is an anachronistic somewhat silly exercise, but once down the rabbit-hole….):

ὄλβιον
μακάριον γενέθλιον ἦμαρ [sc. εἴη σοι]
εὐτυχὲς
καλὸν (based on καλά γενέθλια)

Of the three, I think I like this combination the most: γενέθλιον ἦμαρ εὐτυχὲς
I also like the rhythm of this one: μακάριον γενέθλιον ἦμαρ.
But with the parallel καλά γενέθλια from PlatoSparks, perhaps καλὸν γενέθλιον ἦμαρ is good too

And we can add particles for flavor and force:

εἰ γὰρ μακάριον γενέθλιον ἦμαρ!
μακάριον δὴ γενέθλιον ἦμαρ!
or

εἰ γὰρ καλὸν γενέθλιον ἦμαρ!
καλὸν δὴ γενέθλιον ἦμαρ!

To be sure, it is highly unlikely that any Ancient Greek ever said this. But no ancient Greek used twitter either. Any suggestions for improvement?

Or Youtube: