The Iliad, a Final Word

April 6, 2024April 6, 2024 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ Leave a comment

Homer, Iliad 24.804

“And so they were completing the burial of horse-taming Hektor”

῝Ως οἵ γ’ ἀμφίεπον τάφον ῞Εκτορος ἱπποδάμοιο.

Schol. bT ad. Hom. Il. 21.804

“Menekrates claims that because he sensed his own weakness and inability [to tell their stories] equally, the poet decided to stay silent about the events after Hektor. The rest of the story is served up well in [the stories] told in the Odyssey. There is really only a summary about the house of Odysseus there. The leftovers remain in the stories Odysseus, Nestor, Menelaus, and lyre-playing Demodokos relate. The brief sack of the city is not worth describing”

Μενεκράτης (cf. F.H.G. II p. 345) φησὶν αἰσθόμενον ἑαυτοῦ ἀσθενείας τὸν ποιητὴν καὶ τοῦ μὴ ὁμοίως δύνασθαι φράζειν σιωπῆσαι τὰ μεθ’ ῞Εκτορα. καλῶς δὲ ἐταμιεύσατο τὰ λοιπὰ ἑαυτῷ τῶν †ζητημάτων† εἰς τὴν ᾿Οδύσσειαν· μικρὰ γὰρ ἦν ἡ ὑπόθεσις περὶ τῆς οἰκίας ᾿Οδυσ-σέως μόνον· τὰ γὰρ λείψανα ἐκεῖ ἃ μὲν ᾿Οδυσσεύς (cf. ι 39—μ 453), ἃ δὲ Νέστωρ (cf. γ 98—312) καὶ Μενέλαος (cf. δ 341—586), ἃ δὲΔημόδοκος κιθαρίζων (cf. θ 73—82. 499—520) φασίν. ἄλλως τε πολιορκίαν μακρὰν οὐκ ἄξιον διηγεῖσθαι.

Schol. T ad. Hom. Il. 21.804a

“Some people write “and so they were completing the burial of Hektor. Then the Amazon came / the daughter of Ares, the great-hearted man-killer”

τινὲς γράφουσιν „ὣς οἵ γ’ ἀμφίεπον τάφον ῞Εκτορος· ἦλθε δ’ ᾿Αμαζών, / ῎Αρηος θυγάτηρ μεγαλήτορος ἀνδροφόνοιο” (804. 804a).

This photograph shows a section of the GISP2 ice core from 1837-1838 meters in which annual layers are clearly visible. The appearance of layers results from differences in the size of snow crystals deposited in winter versus summer and resulting variations in the abundance and size of air bubbles trapped in the ice. Counting such layers has been used (in combination with other techniques) to reliably determine the age of the ice. This ice was formed ~16250 years ago during the final stages of the last ice age and approximately 38 years are represented here. By analyzing the ice and the gases trapped within, scientists are able to learn about past climate conditions.

The Trojan War Took 30 Years, Not 20

April 5, 2024 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ 2 Comments

Homer, Iliad 24.761-775

“Among them then Helen was the third to take up the lament”
‘Hektor, you were by far the dearest of my in-laws—
My husband was actually godlike Alexandros,
The one who brought me to Troy. I wish I had died before that.
This is the twentieth years since I arrived from there
And I left my own homeland.
But I have never heard an evil or cruel word from you.
But if anyone else in our home would criticize me,
One of your brothers or sisters or one of their spouses
Or my mother in law—since your father was always as gentle as my own
Then you would hold them back by persuading them with words,
With your very kindness and your kind words.
So, I am weeping for you now and my unlucky self, aggrieved in my heart.
No one else in the wide land of Troy will be here for me,
As gentle and as dear, and everyone else is rough to me.’ ”

http://www.jstor.org/stable/20054056.
τῇσι δ’ ἔπειθ’ ῾Ελένη τριτάτη ἐξῆρχε γόοιο·
῞Εκτορ ἐμῷ θυμῷ δαέρων πολὺ φίλτατε πάντων,
ἦ μέν μοι πόσις ἐστὶν ᾿Αλέξανδρος θεοειδής,
ὅς μ’ ἄγαγε Τροίηνδ’· ὡς πρὶν ὤφελλον ὀλέσθαι.
ἤδη γὰρ νῦν μοι τόδε εἰκοστὸν ἔτος ἐστὶν
ἐξ οὗ κεῖθεν ἔβην καὶ ἐμῆς ἀπελήλυθα πάτρης·
ἀλλ’ οὔ πω σεῦ ἄκουσα κακὸν ἔπος οὐδ’ ἀσύφηλον·
ἀλλ’ εἴ τίς με καὶ ἄλλος ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἐνίπτοι
δαέρων ἢ γαλόων ἢ εἰνατέρων εὐπέπλων,
ἢ ἑκυρή, ἑκυρὸς δὲ πατὴρ ὣς ἤπιος αἰεί,
ἀλλὰ σὺ τὸν ἐπέεσσι παραιφάμενος κατέρυκες
σῇ τ’ ἀγανοφροσύνῃ καὶ σοῖς ἀγανοῖς ἐπέεσσι.
τὼ σέ θ’ ἅμα κλαίω καὶ ἔμ’ ἄμμορον ἀχνυμένη κῆρ·
οὐ γάρ τίς μοι ἔτ’ ἄλλος ἐνὶ Τροίῃ εὐρείῃ
ἤπιος οὐδὲ φίλος, πάντες δέ με πεφρίκασιν.

Schol bT A ad Hom, Il. 24.765b

“The twentieth year? Wrong. This can’t be the twentieth year. From the time Helen went to Troy it is established that the gathering of the army happened but that in the twentieth, Odysseus returned to Ithaka.

There was a lot of time wasted in wandering then too.

It is asserted that they spent ten years getting the army together and then they were slowed down by a storm on their own and then once they came to Aulis. So, now is the 20th year since the theft of Helen.

Ten years for the gathering of the army must be added to the Odyssey.”

εἰκοστὸν ἔτος: ψευδές· οὐ γὰρ εἰκοστὸν ἔτος δύναται εἶναι, ἐξ οὗ εἰς τὸ ῎Ιλιον ἦλθεν ῾Ελένη, εἴγε δεκαετὴς μὲν ἡ τοῦ πολέμου παρασκευὴ ὁμολογεῖται γεγονέναι, εἰκοστῷ δὲ ᾿Οδυσσεὺς ἐνιαυτῷ εἰς τὴν ᾿Ιθάκην ἐπανελήλυθε, A b (BCE4)T πολὺν ἐν τῇ πλάνῃ ἐνδιατρίψας χρόνον. AT ῥητέον δὲ ὅτι δέκα ἔτη ἐστρατολόγουν χειμάζοντες ἐν ταῖς ἰδίαις καὶ θέρους εἰς Αὐλίδα ἀφικνούμενοι, νῦν δὲ εἰκοστὸν ἔτος ἐστὶν ἀπὸ τῆς ἁρπαγῆς ῾Ελένης.

ἐπὶ δὲ ᾿Οδυσσέως τὰ δέκα ἔτη τῆς στρατολογίας ἀριθμητέον.

Schol. D ad Hom. Il. 24.765

“The army of the Greeks was gathered over ten years, and another ten years was spent on the siege of Troy.”

Δεκαετίᾳ γὰρ ἠθροίσθη ὁ στρατὸς τῶν ῾Ελλήνων, δεκαετίᾳ δὲ ἄλλῃ ἐπορθήθη ἡ Ιλιος.

color photograph of a wooden horse — From the Manchester Museum: https://multilingualmuseum.manchester.ac.uk/object/toy-horse-with-wheels/

Translation, Authority, and Reception 3: Epic Interventions

February 27, 2024February 16, 2024 ~ imaanansari19 ~ Leave a comment

Editor’s Note: This is the third of a four-part essay on reception of minoritized translators of Classical Epic Poetry by Imaan Ansari.

Sexism emanates from the canon itself, since the notion of “Homer” as more than one author rarely elicits the conversation that the group may include female Hellenists. Furthermore, three especially canonized texts, the Iliad, Aeneid, and Odyssey, all begin with a similar structure in translation: a discussion of a man and a muse. Of course, female characters and their presence in each story deeply impact the course that the narrative takes. For instance, Dido in the Aeneid is a powerful Queen who prolongs Aeneas’ stay in Carthage before he reaches the Western Land, Hesperia. In the Classical world, power is finite. Why does Dido and Aeneas’ relationship usher in both Dido’s downfall and not, immediately, that of Aeneas? Because Aeneas is the one who makes the decisions, and has control, when they are together.

Classicist John L. Moles cannot prove that Dido is morally culpable for having sex with Aeneas since he subjects Dido to more scrutiny and blame than he does Aeneas, and since he fails to acknowledge the ambiguity concerning whether they are married. The example encapsulates how something ambiguous within the ancient text itself is treated using a double standard. Sexism does exist in the text itself in terms of blame and the translator, Moles, perpetuates the point of view of antiquity. According to Moles, Dido commits a misdemeanor by having sex with Aeneas because she knowingly does so out of wedlock.^[1]

Moles clarifies that Dido is not at fault for falling in love with Aeneas; however, he places blame on her for how she responds to that love. Moles construes the passage which follows the cave scene to be Vergil’s demonstration of a moral shift in Dido’s mentality, most probably dictated by love.^[2] The line of which Dido is the subject, coniugium vocat, hoc praetexit nomine culpam (Vergil, Aen. 4.172) describes, to Moles, her fatal flaw. Moles interprets the word culpa as representing Dido’s hamartia.^[3] Moles explains that Dido hides the state of Aeneas’ and her relationship by calling it a marriage. Moles believes that the implications of the verb vocat, the act of attributing a name, extend to Dido’s intention to justify her sex with Aeneas by saying that they are married. Moles construes the verb that follows, praetexit, to mean that Dido consciously hides truth even though she herself knows, at some level, that they are not married. By isolating line 172, following the censored cave scene, Moles sees “shamelessness” in Dido, a trope of Greco-Roman tragedy often attributed to the woman in an “emotional entanglement.”^[4] Moles aligns himself with Vergil’s word choice of nomine, here being a name that Dido imposes on her relationship with Aeneas, to say that even Vergil saw Dido and Aeneas as unmarried, and that Dido uses the label of marriage to justify sex.

Moles does not attribute equal blame to Aeneas and Dido for the misconduct in the cave (even if we grant his assumption that they are not married). He incorrectly places the entire burden of the culpa on Dido by citing the “illicit nature of her love-making with Aeneas.”^[5] Although Aeneas and Dido have sex with each other in the cave, Moles refers to Aeneas as a sort of accomplice in Dido’s illicit activities. Moles makes the assumption that Dido initiated, and roped Aeneas into, sex even in his English sentence structure; the word “her” in the phrase is the English equivalent to a Latin subjective genitive, in conjunction with “love-making.” Aeneas corresponds to a Latin ablative of accompaniment, contextualizing the fact that Dido is the focus of Moles’ blame, since she governs the “love-making” out of which Aeneas stems as almost an afterthought.

Because Vergil leaves out the scene in which his audience understands that Dido and Aeneas have sex, Moles can only speculate about who is more at fault. Moles defaults to the (sexist) point of view that women are deemed “shameless” for having sex (outside of marriage), rather than questioning why women are conventionally blamed (and men are not).^[6] Why should women harbor the shame within a relationship, and be regarded as shameless if they act outside of that norm, while the actions of their male counterparts are judged with less scrutiny? Moles describes Dido as “over emotional,” undermining her conversation with Anna, consideration of Sychaeus, and careful deliberation over whether to engage in the relationship in the first place.^[7] By calling her “over” an acceptable threshold of emotional expression, Moles imposes a standard on Dido to which he does not hold Aeneas. Of course, this is an article considering Dido’s fatal flaw, yet Moles makes no effort to determine that of Aeneas; just as Dido is the focus of Moles’ article, she is the target of his blame.

Moles dismisses evidence which suggests that Aeneas and Dido are married by imposing his own criteria of what constitutes a “proper” marriage. The first issue with his argument is the word “proper” in and of itself, since Moles bases his definition of marriage on “Roman law and social practice.”^[8] Moles uses Aristotle’s analysis of Greek tragedy to understand Vergil’s storyline and attribute a fatal flaw to Dido, but he makes the mistake of applying Roman standards to two people in Carthage, who have sex many years before Rome is established. Of course, under the assumption that the Aeneid is propaganda for the first Roman emperor, Augustus, the text may then be accepted as intentionally anachronistic.^[9] There remains a disconnect between Moles’ argument and the chronology of the epic, since, although both Rome and Carthage may overlap in terms of societal norms, Moles invalidates Aeneas and Dido’s marriage with standards that do not yet preside over their kingdoms or daily lives.

Moles also makes the point that a married couple must live together and that Aeneas and Dido are “not yet cohabiting.”^[10] However, once Dido enters her bedroom for the last time before committing suicide, she picks up Aeneas’ sword and stares at the bed in which they slept together. The fact that Aeneas left his belongings in Dido’s room demonstrates that he stayed with her for an extended period of time, suggesting that they are at least “more married” than Moles credits them. Moles equates Dido and Aeneas’ relationship to a one-night-stand by remarking that “they have only made love once.”^[11] However, Dido’s tears upon seeing the empty bed and Aeneas’ possessions, without his presence, imply that they slept and spent time with each other beyond Moles’ assertion. Moles would actually strengthen his argument by asserting that Dido and Aeneas may have had sex more than once because under his framework, Dido would be even more culpable for repeating illicit affairs. Instead, he speculates on the events in the cave, which Vergil himself does not narrate, thus, Moles stretches Vergil’s intention for the meaning behind his text. The way in which Moles crafts this argument, to demean Dido and suggest that she exclusively exhibits a fatal flaw, demonstrates how he reduces her to a “trope” or a “token” scorned female character.

Emily Wilson and her newly published translation of Homer’s Iliad. ^[15]

This idea of a “token” or “the only” female extends into media reception of female translators. Emily Wilson is adamant that she is not the first woman to have translated the Odyssey, so much so that one will encounter that fact in her Twitter bio.^[12] Recently, Emily Wilson published her translation of the Iliad, joining Caroline Anderson, another woman to have published a translation of the epic. Emily Wilson is technically the first woman to have translated the Odyssey into English, however, this title of “the first,” tends to minimize both the contributions of women to the Classics and the interactions between women and ancient texts. For instance, Anne le Fèvre Dacier translated the Odyssey into French prose in as early as 1708, but is rarely recognized as “the first female translator or classicist” by Western media, perhaps because she did not write in English.^[13]

Wilson’s activism in raising awareness for female translators extends profoundly into the Classical texts that she translates herself, namely, humanizing the enslaved women who sleep with the suitors during the Odyssey. These women are executed by Telemachus at Odysseus’ order (Homer, Od, 22.471-473). The translation of these women from Greek to English perpetuates the brutality and disdain with which they were treated. On International Women’s Day in 2018, Emily Wilson exposed the choices that best-selling male English translations of the Odyssey make about how to render the enslaved women. The wrongdoings and shortcomings of male classicists are often ignored, perhaps because of perceived male domination in the field.

Wilson turned straight to best-selling translated works by authors such as Fagles, Lombardo, and Fitzgerald, all of whom used slurs to describe these women. Wilson embraces alternative knowledge sharing in order to correct these injustices with a wider audience.^[14] By choosing Twitter as her platform, she joined a movement of scholars working to demystify Classics as a field—one that younger generations and marginalized groups can, in fact, access. This mission is in keeping with Wilson’s attitude to raise awareness for issues in the Classics, such as gender inequality, in tandem with extending appreciation and involvement in Classical literature to youth. She holds herself and other translators by demonstrating that translation and identity are inextricably interwoven.

The New Yorker presents Wilson as risking her reputation in order to give voice to a more important movement that is women’s rights in the Classics. Dan Chiasson, the contributor of this piece, points out that some of the men whom Wilson critiques cannot respond as they have since passed away. For instance, ten years prior to the publication of her Twitter thread, Robert Fagles died. Fagles, arguably but according to Chiasson, is the classicist whom Wilson most directly calls out. Returning to the scene of the hanged slave women, Wilson believes Fagles to have conflated the death of these women to a forgettable, inconsequential event; Fagles presented what Wilson calls a “childish half-rhyme” between the words “cozy… grisly” to describe the circumstances and appearances of the enslaved women.^[16] The mentality of blame the victim–or, at least, disregard the victim–is exacerbated here. Wilson acknowledges the dilemma posed by the heroism and homecoming of Odysseus; certain translators take it upon themselves to regard Odysseus as the focus, protagonist, and essence of the entire Odyssey, however, such a view minimizes the presence of other characters. For example, since Odysseus requests that the enslaved women be hanged, Telemachus obliges. The personhood of these women gets lost, not only in translation, but within the scene itself.

Classical reception makes it deeply vital for translators to have the implications of their words in mind, since their audience is different from that of the original canonized work, intended to be received by, in the case of the Odyssey, a more patriarchal society. It is imperative today that translators understand the platform that they are given: to relay words of the past into the framework of the now. The social justice, inclusivity, and awareness for which Wilson campaigns and champions in translation need institutional recognition.

Imaan Ansari is a high school junior at Trinity School in New York City. Her parents immigrated to the US from India, so her experiences as a woman of color and as a first-generation American influence her passion for investigating and amplifying the contributions of minority groups to the Classics. Imaan has taken Latin for six years. She is also fluent in Hindi and Urdu, and aspires to study Sanskrit. At school, Imaan serves on the Student Senate, fulfilling roles such as Chair of Finance, overseeing the student budget, and Speaker, communicating the Senate’s initiatives to students, faculty, and staff. Imaan is the Editor-in-Chief of Diversion, the Modern Language magazine, and the Editor-in-Chief of Symposium, the Classics publication. She is the President of Classics Club and also leads a free peer Latin tutoring service. Outside of Classics, Imaan enjoys playing golf, as captain of the Varsity team, and has been playing violin in various orchestras for over ten years

notes

^[1] Moles, J. (1984) “Aristotle and Dido’s ‘hamartia,’” Jstor. Available at: https://www.jstor.org/stable/642369 (Accessed: 13 August 2023).

^[2] Ibid., 51.

^[3] Ibid., 48.

^[4] Ibid., 51-52.

^[5] Ibid., 52.

^[6] Ibid., 52.

^[7] Ibid., 50.

^[8] Ibid., 52.

^[9] Lavocat, F. (2020) “Dido meets Aeneas: Anachronism, alternative history, counterfactual thinking and the idea of fiction,” JLT Articles. Available at: http://www.jltonline.de/index.php/articles/article/view/1111/2549 (Accessed: 22 August 2023).

^[10] Moles, J. (1984) “Aristotle and Dido’s ‘hamartia,’” Jstor. Available at: https://www.jstor.org/stable/642369 (Accessed: 13 August 2023).

^[11] Ibid., 52.

^[12] Bao, J. (2019) “Emily Wilson: Not the first woman to translate the Odyssey,” 34th Street Magazine. Available at: https://www.34st.com/article/2019/10/emily-wilson-penn-classical-studies-translation-the-odyssey-macarthur-foundation-genius-grant-fellowship (Accessed: 22 August 2023).

^[13] Hepburn, L. (2022) “Anne Le Fèvre Dacier: Homer’s first female translator,” Peter Harrington Journal – The Journal. Available at: https://www.peterharrington.co.uk/blog/anne-le-fevre-dacier-homers-first-female-translator/ (Accessed: 22 August 2023).

^[14] Chiasson, D. (2018) “The classics scholar redefining what Twitter can do,” The New Yorker. Available at: https://www.newyorker.com/culture/rabbit-holes/the-classics-scholar-redefining-what-twitter-can-do (Accessed: 13 August 2023).

^[15] https://www.bostonglobe.com/2023/09/25/arts/facetime-with-homer-emily-wilsons-new-translation-iliad-brings-zoomer-generation-vibe-classical-war-epic/

^[16] Wilson, E. (2018) “@EmilyRCWilson scholia,” Emily Wilson. Available at: https://www.emilyrcwilson.com/emilyrcwilson-scholia (Accessed: 13 August 2023).

Translation, Authority, and Reception 1: Facing up to Racism and Sexism in Classical Epic

February 20, 2024February 16, 2024 ~ imaanansari19 ~ Leave a comment

Editor’s Note: This is the first of a four-part essay on reception of minoritized translators of Classical Epic Poetry by Imaan Ansari.

Being a translator without being an interpreter is close to impossible. The following entities are only examples of the factors affecting the decisions that a translator makes: the author of the original work, the respective audience for which this author wrote in mind, and the audience that receives the translation upon publication. No translator is completely impartial—otherwise, all translations would be the same.

When it comes to ancient literature, the progression by which translations are differently received throughout time can be understood through the prism of “Classical reception,” a phenomenon that also crafts the archetype of the accepted or ideal translator [[1]]. Perceived legitimacy has its own allure within the Classics since authority as a classicist or translator is often less affected by the content of a person’s contributions, but rather, their identity and background. Classical reception, in conjunction with perceived legitimacy, allows us to interrogate the ways in which a person’s gender or race affects their reputation as a translator. The media and institutions of higher education promote literature of the Greco-Roman or “Western” Classics, which are then overwhelmingly analyzed and translated by authors of the same backgrounds. These texts become canonized, and in turn, so do their authors, but only a few translators are met with the same respect and reverence.

Classical reception is a double-edged sword, as the reaction which a piece of literature elicits pertains to both the original and translated work. Because the Classics look far back into antiquity, the authors of well-known works, such as Homer of the Odyssey or Vergil of the Aeneid, have passed away though their works have not. Although some may see “the death of the author” as a relinquishing of control over their work, the translator very much has the integrity of the original author’s work in their mind, whether by choice or because of the pressures relating to reception [[2]]. “Faithfulness” to the text then becomes a tough pill to swallow, since what if the lessons taught in the original piece would not be well received or even inappropriate for the present day and age?[[3]]

The decisions that a translator must make concerns the reception of their translation in addition to the threshold acceptance of the original work. Trevor Ross asserts that the “stewardship of an established authority or institution” drives the loftiness of the canon forward[[4]] An elite class of literature and authors grandfather in translators who then assume a spot in the hierarchy of the many people who have interacted with ancient text. The translator always has to straddle faithfulness to the text in the larger context of faithfulness to the canon, as they are entering a conversation about texts that have stood the test of time.

In this first post, I will focus on how classicists grapple with the racism and sexism present within ancient epic and the history of translating epic. The experiences of translators influence either implicitly or explicitly the way in which they choose to render a story. Using comparative analysis and recourse to translation theory, I will discuss how a growing group of marginalized translators and translators in Classics emphasize the political valences of their craft in order to stand in solidarity against marginalization. They have shown that, while no translation is perfect, certain translation choices can perpetuate outdated dynamics. Ultimately, by exploring these dynamics, I intend to show that adopting this mindset allows translators to more effectively grapple with the multiple levels of marginalization that may be present both within the texts and in their own careers.

Arshia Sattar, translator of the Ramayana from Sanskrit to English, has spoken on the traditional and almost ritualistic aspect of translating the Classics in a recent interview [[5]]. Sattar states that one is “rarely” the first translator, but is extremely definitive with the phrase “[one] will certainly not be the last” [[6]]. The so-called “first” translator from a certain background—the first female translator of a specific work, the first translator of color of a specific work—is often met with the response of making a person or their accomplishment out to merely be a symbol. The reduction of the“first” translator into a symbol ushers in societal acceptance to undermine previous scholarship and interaction with the original work, often from the demographic that the “first” person is alleged to represent. When they are recognized, women and people of color in the field of translation are often labeled as the first person of their respective minority to have completed such a commendable task.

The industry of translation then falls into a trap of representation: that a certain individual person speaks for all who share their background, undervaluing and discouraging subsequent contributions with the fear that they do not have the stamp of validation that is “being first.” If translation is not a transaction or a competition, shouldn’t being the “first” translator in whatever respect be irrelevant? Yet, if there were no more “first” translators, the industry of translation would cater to a smaller audience due to the more conservative elements of its history in the Classics especially. Translation would not live up to the global and diverse medium on which the industry prides itself.

The act of making someone a “first” permeates into the media’s reception of translations. The earlier quote from Arshia Sattar is from an interview that solicited the contributions of three notable female translators of different classical traditions. Words Without Borders, the publication that conducted this interview, strives to represent and give voice to those that are traditionally marginalized or silenced in literary fields [[7]]. The interviewer, Alta Price, curated responses from Emily Wilson, translator of Homer’s Odyssey, and Sholeh Wolpé, translator of Sufi poet Attar’s The Conference of The Birds, in addition to Arshia Sattar. Words Without Borders works to dismantle the influence of tokenism in translation by discussing a wide variety of works and allowing many different women to share their experiences, to work against the notion of a “female translator.” Price has therefore called for a Women in Translation movement, which is driven by the fact that there should be a standard in which society should see women: the same way as everyone else [[8]].

Tokenism, “the practice of doing something only to prevent criticism and give the appearance that people are treated fairly,” deeply relates to the representation, and often lack thereof, of women and people of color in respected echelons of the Classics. In an interview conducted at Vanderbilt University on tokenism in the corporate world, a member of the panel made the statement, “Intent is important,” encapsulating the difference between an organization that circulates tokenism versus one that advocates sincerely for equal representation [[9]] Applying logic to the premise of the interview at Words Without Borders, three women were chosen, besides the fact that they represent different languages, because they each grapple with the way in which society views them, in addition to and often more so than their translations. In turn, minoritized translators are more likely to fear how they will be received than how their translation will be received. Samia Mehrez (“Translating Gender”)[[10]] and Sherry Simon (“Gender in Translation”)[[11]] are among the many female scholars who have theorized gender in translation as well, having to bear in mind the skewed expectations for a female translator within the field of Classics.

[1] Martindale, C. (1993) Redeeming the text: Latin poetry and the hermeneutics of reception. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

[2] Barthes, R. (1967) The birth of ‘the death of the author’ – JSTOR. Available at: https://www.jstor.org/stable/24238249 (Accessed: 14 August 2023).

[3] Irigaray, L. (2002) “On Faithfulness in Translating,” in Luce Irigaray presents international, intercultural, intergenerational dialogues around her work. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, pp. 32–41.

[4] Ross, T. (1996) “Dissolution and the making of the English literary canon,” JSTOR, Renaissance and Reformation. Available at: https://www.jstor.org/stable/43445609 (Accessed: 13 August 2023).

[5] Price, A. (2018) “Women Translating the Classics,” Words Without Borders. Available at: https://wordswithoutborders.org/read/article/2018-08/women-translating-the-classics-emily-wilson-sholeh-wolpe-arshia-sattar/ (Accessed: 13 August 2023).

[6] ibid.

[7] Words Without Borders. (2003) Available at: https://wordswithoutborders.org/about/mission/ (Accessed: 23 August 2023).

[8] Ibid.

[9] Sherrer, K. (2018) “What is tokenism, and why does it matter in the workplace?” Vanderbilt Business School. Available at:

[10] Mehrez, S. (2007) “Translating gender,” Journal of Middle East Women’s Studies. Available at: https://www.academia.edu/97559176/Translating_Gender (Accessed: 20 August 2023).

[11] Simon, S. (1996) “Taking Gendered Positions in Translation Theory,” in Gender in Translation. Hoboken, NJ: Taylor and Francis.

Imagine Escaping War

January 4, 2024 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ Leave a comment

Homer, Iliad 12.310-328

‘Glaukos, why are you and I honored before others
by place, the best meat and cups filled with wine
in Lykia, and all men look on us as gods,
and we have great tracts of land Xanthos’ banks,
good holdings with orchards and vineyards, farmland for wheat too?
Because of this we must stand at the head of the Lykians
and take our part of the burden of battle’s fire
so that one of those well-armored Lykians may see us and say:
“Indeed, these lords of Lykia are no base-born men,
these kings of ours, who dine on the fatted sheep selected for them
and drink the finest wine, since there is in fact strength
and courage in them, when they fight in the forefront of the Lykians.”

But, friend, imagine if you and I could escape this battle
and be able to live forever, ageless, immortal–
then neither would I myself go on fighting in the frontlines
nor would I tell you to seek the fighting that brings us glory.
But now, since death’s ghosts stand around us numbered
in their thousands and no person can ever escape them,
let’s go on and claim this glory for ourselves or give it to others in turn.”

Γλαῦκε τί ἢ δὴ νῶϊ τετιμήμεσθα μάλιστα
ἕδρῃ τε κρέασίν τε ἰδὲ πλείοις δεπάεσσιν
ἐν Λυκίῃ, πάντες δὲ θεοὺς ὣς εἰσορόωσι,
καὶ τέμενος νεμόμεσθα μέγα Ξάνθοιο παρ’ ὄχθας
καλὸν φυταλιῆς καὶ ἀρούρης πυροφόροιο;
τὼ νῦν χρὴ Λυκίοισι μέτα πρώτοισιν ἐόντας
ἑστάμεν ἠδὲ μάχης καυστείρης ἀντιβολῆσαι,
ὄφρά τις ὧδ’ εἴπῃ Λυκίων πύκα θωρηκτάων·
οὐ μὰν ἀκλεέες Λυκίην κάτα κοιρανέουσιν
ἡμέτεροι βασιλῆες, ἔδουσί τε πίονα μῆλα
οἶνόν τ’ ἔξαιτον μελιηδέα· ἀλλ’ ἄρα καὶ ἲς
ἐσθλή, ἐπεὶ Λυκίοισι μέτα πρώτοισι μάχονται.
ὦ πέπον εἰ μὲν γὰρ πόλεμον περὶ τόνδε φυγόντε
αἰεὶ δὴ μέλλοιμεν ἀγήρω τ’ ἀθανάτω τε
ἔσσεσθ’, οὔτέ κεν αὐτὸς ἐνὶ πρώτοισι μαχοίμην
οὔτέ κε σὲ στέλλοιμι μάχην ἐς κυδιάνειραν·
νῦν δ’ ἔμπης γὰρ κῆρες ἐφεστᾶσιν θανάτοιο
μυρίαι, ἃς οὐκ ἔστι φυγεῖν βροτὸν οὐδ’ ὑπαλύξαι,
ἴομεν ἠέ τῳ εὖχος ὀρέξομεν ἠέ τις ἡμῖν.

: Patroclus (naked, on the right) kills Sarpedon (wearing Lycian clothes, on the left) with his spear, while Glaucus comes to the latter's help. — He did give glory to someone else. Protolucana red-figure hydria by the Policoro Painter, ca. 400 BC. From the so-called tomb of the Policoro Painter in Heraclaea. Stored in the Museo Nazionale Archaeologico of Policoro.

For a discussion of the importance of this speech with bibliography, see Painful Signs

Hesiod’s House of Horrors

October 26, 2023October 24, 2023 ~ lawrencebenn ~ Leave a comment

Hesiod: Theogony 720-744

. . . As far as heaven is from earth
Just as far is earth from gloomy Tartarus.
Bronze space junk would tumble through the sky
Nine nights and days, reaching earth on the tenth;
And so a bronze anvil tumbling from earth would fall
Nine nights and days, reaching Tartarus on the tenth.

A bronze wall was thrown up around Tartarus.
Triple-layered night was poured around its neck,
And the roots of earth and barren sea grew above it.
It’s there the Titan gods were locked away
—the will of Zeus, cloud gatherer—
In gloomy darkness, damp musty place
At the vast earth’s distant end.

They cannot leave.
Poseidon set bronze doors in place,
And a wall encircled the whole.
There Gyes and Cottus established themselves,
And great-hearted Obriareus did too,
Trusted watchmen for aegis-bearing Zeus.

The source and limit of everything
Line up there: that of dark earth,
Gloomy Tartarus, the barren sea,
And the star-studded sky.
Horrid damp musty—even the gods detest it.

A huge pit, this: you couldn’t reach bottom
in a year, assuming you got within its gates.
No, bruising squall after squall would carry you
This way and that. A Terrible monstrosity,
Even to the deathless gods.

. . . ὅσον οὐρανός ἐστ᾽ ἀπὸ γαίης:
τόσσον γάρ τ᾽ ἀπὸ γῆς ἐς Τάρταρον ἠερόεντα.
ἐννέα γὰρ νύκτας τε καὶ ἤματα χάλκεος ἄκμων
οὐρανόθεν κατιὼν δεκάτῃ κ᾽ ἐς γαῖαν ἵκοιτο:
ἐννέα δ᾽ αὖ νύκτας τε καὶ ἤματα χάλκεος ἄκμων
ἐκ γαίης κατιὼν δεκάτῃ κ᾽ ἐς Τάρταρον ἵκοι.
τὸν πέρι χάλκεον ἕρκος ἐλήλαται: ἀμφὶ δέ μιν νὺξ
τριστοιχεὶ κέχυται περὶ δειρήν: αὐτὰρ ὕπερθεν
γῆς ῥίζαι πεφύασι καὶ ἀτρυγέτοιο θαλάσσης.
ἔνθα θεοὶ Τιτῆνες ὑπὸ ζόφῳ ἠερόεντι
κεκρύφαται βουλῇσι Διὸς νεφεληγερέταο
χώρῳ ἐν εὐρώεντι, πελώρης ἔσχατα γαίης.
τοῖς οὐκ ἐξιτόν ἐστι. θύρας δ᾽ ἐπέθηκε Ποσειδέων
χαλκείας, τεῖχος δὲ περοίχεται ἀμφοτέρωθεν.
ἔνθα Γύης Κόττος τε καὶ Ὀβριάρεως μεγάθυμος
ναίουσιν, φύλακες πιστοὶ Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο.
ἔνθα δὲ γῆς δνοφερῆς καὶ Ταρτάρου ἠερόεντος
πόντου τ᾽ ἀτρυγέτοιο καὶ οὐρανοῦ ἀστερόεντος
ἑξείης πάντων πηγαὶ καὶ πείρατ᾽ ἔασιν
ἀργαλέ᾽ εὐρώεντα, τά τε στυγέουσι θεοί περ,
χάσμα μέγ᾽, οὐδέ κε πάντα τελεσφόρον εἰς ἐνιαυτὸν
οὖδας ἵκοιτ᾽, εἰ πρῶτα πυλέων ἔντοσθε γένοιτο,
ἀλλά κεν ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα φέροι πρὸ θύελλα θυέλλῃ
ἀργαλέη: δεινὸν δὲ καὶ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι
τοῦτο τέρας. . . .

Ancient sources attest that this sign was prominently displayed on the gates of Tartarus.

Larry Benn has a B.A. in English Literature from Harvard College, an M.Phil in English Literature from Oxford University, and a J.D. from Yale Law School. Making amends for a working life misspent in finance, he’s now a hobbyist in ancient languages and blogs at featsofgreek.blogspot.com.

The Hateful Things Usually Happen Out of Sight

October 13, 2023 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ Leave a comment

CW: Excessive Violence; Genocidal Thoughts

Right before this scene, Adrastos has begged Menelaos to take him as a hostage and ransom him alive to his father

Homer, Iliad 6.52-65

“And then [Menelaos] was intending to give Adrastus
To an attendant to take back to the Achaeans’ swift ships
But Agamemnon came rushing in front of him and spoke commandingly

“Oh my fool Menelaos, why do you care so much about people?
Did your house suffer the best treatment by the Trojans?
Let none of them flee dread death at our hands,
Not even a mother who carries in her womb
a child that will be a boy, let not one flee, but instead
Let everyone at Troy perish, unwept and unseen.”

The hero spoke like this and changed his brother’s mind,
Since he advised properly. He pushed the hero
Adrastos away from him with his hand, but strong Agamemnon
Struck him in the throat. He was turned down and Atreus’ son
Stepped on his chest with his foot and retrieved his dark spear.

καὶ δή μιν τάχ’ ἔμελλε θοὰς ἐπὶ νῆας ᾿Αχαιῶν
δώσειν ᾧ θεράποντι καταξέμεν· ἀλλ’ ᾿Αγαμέμνων
ἀντίος ἦλθε θέων, καὶ ὁμοκλήσας ἔπος ηὔδα·
ὦ πέπον ὦ Μενέλαε, τί ἢ δὲ σὺ κήδεαι οὕτως
ἀνδρῶν; ἦ σοὶ ἄριστα πεποίηται κατὰ οἶκον
πρὸς Τρώων; τῶν μή τις ὑπεκφύγοι αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον
χεῖράς θ’ ἡμετέρας, μηδ’ ὅν τινα γαστέρι μήτηρ
κοῦρον ἐόντα φέροι, μηδ’ ὃς φύγοι, ἀλλ’ ἅμα πάντες
᾿Ιλίου ἐξαπολοίατ’ ἀκήδεστοι καὶ ἄφαντοι.
῝Ως εἰπὼν ἔτρεψεν ἀδελφειοῦ φρένας ἥρως
αἴσιμα παρειπών· ὃ δ’ ἀπὸ ἕθεν ὤσατο χειρὶ
ἥρω’ ῎Αδρηστον· τὸν δὲ κρείων ᾿Αγαμέμνων
οὖτα κατὰ λαπάρην· ὃ δ’ ἀνετράπετ’, ᾿Ατρεΐδης δὲ
λὰξ ἐν στήθεσι βὰς ἐξέσπασε μείλινον ἔγχος.

Schol. bT Ad 6.58-59b ex

These words are despicable and ill-fit to a kingly character. Through them [Agamemnon] reveals his animal nature. The audience, because they are human, hate something excessively bitter and dehumanizing like this. This is why [poets] conceal people who do these kinds of things in tragedies off stage and they only signal what has happened through the voices that can be heard or through later messengers, so that they [the poets] might not be hated along with what is performed.

But note that if these words had been spoken before the oath, then there would be a reason for complaint. But since they follow the oaths and their breaking, Agamemnon is not problematic. For the audience also practically wants this: the disappearance of the race of oath breakers.”

ex. μηδ’ ὅντινα<—μηδ’ ὃς φύγοι>: μισητὰ καὶ οὐχ ἁρμόζοντα βασιλικῷ ἤθει τὰ ῥήματα· τρόπου γὰρ ἐνδείκνυσι θηριότητα, ὁ δὲ ἀκροατὴς ἄνθρωπος ὢν μισεῖ τὸ ἄγαν πικρὸν καὶ ἀπάνθρωπον. ὅθεν κἀν ταῖς τραγῳδίαις κρύπτουσι τοὺς δρῶντας τὰ τοι-αῦτα ἐν ταῖς σκηναῖς καὶ ἢ φωναῖς τισιν ἐξακουομέναις ἢ δι’ ἀγγέλων ὕστερον σημαίνουσι τὰ πραχθέντα, οὐδὲν ἄλλο ἢ φοβούμενοι, μὴ αὐτοὶ συμμισηθῶσι τοῖς δρωμένοις. λεκτέον δὲ ὅτι, εἰ μὲν ἐλέγετο ταῦτα πρὸ τῆς ἐπιορκίας, ἔγκλημα ἂν ἦν· ἐπεὶ δὲ μετὰ τοὺς ὅρκους καὶ τὴν παράβασιν, οὐκ ἐπαχθὴς ᾿Αγαμέμνων· σχεδὸν γὰρ καὶ ὁ ἀκροατὴς τοῦτο βούλεται, τὸ μηδὲ γένος ἐπιλιμπάνεσθαι τῶν ἐπιόρκων.

he front of this Athenian black-figure neck-amphora shows such a conflict. In the center of the scene, two warriors battle over a corpse, stripped of all its armor except for the helmet and shield. A similar scene appears to the left. To the right, a warrior chases a fleeing opponent. The scene on the back of the vase shows a group of warriors flanked by riders and onlookers, and a procession of galloping horsemen decorates the shoulder on both sides of the vase. — Attic Black-figure Neck Amphora attributed to Group E – Workshop of Exekias, ca. 540 BCE, depicting Two Warriors Fighting Over a Corpse – possible the battle of Aias (Ajax) and Hektor over the body of Patroklos

How Many Angels on the Head of a Pin? How Many Oarsmen on Achilles’ Ships?

September 30, 2023 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ 1 Comment

Scholia T ad Homer Iliad 16.170

“Achilles, dear to Zeus, had fifty ships which he led to Troy. In each of the ships there were fifty companions at the benches.” How, people ask, is it that the Poet who typically augments Achilles elsewhere, diminishes him in this passage? Is it because there is no excellence in numbers?

Aristarchus, however, says that there are fifty rowers [only] because of the phrase “on the benches”, meaning sailors as support crew. Dionysus, still, claims that the greatest number of rowers possible was 120 and that most ships had between these two numbers, so that the average amount was 86 men.”

πεντήκοντ᾽ ἦσαν νῆες θοαί, ἧισιν ᾽Αχιλλεὺς ἐς Τροίην ἡγεῖτο διίφιλος· ἐν δὲ ἑκάστηι πεντήκοντ᾽ ἔσαν ἄνδρες ἐπὶ κληῖσιν ἑταῖροι] πῶς, φασίν, ἐν ἅπασιν αὔξων ᾽Αχιλλέα τούτωι μειοῖ; τινὲς μὲν οὖν, ὅτι οὐκ ἐν πλήθει ἡ ἀρετή … ᾽Αρίσταρχος δέ φησιν ν̄ ἐρέτας εἶναι διὰ τὸ ῾ἐπὶ κληῖσιν᾽ ἢ ναύτας πρὸς ὑπηρεσίαν. Διονύσιος δὲ τὸν μέγιστον ἀριθμὸν ρ̄κ̄ τιμᾶι, τὸ δὲ λοιπὸν ἐν τῶι μεταξὺ τούτων ἄγεσθαι, ὡς φθάνειν πάσας ἀπὸ π̄ε̄ ἀνδρῶν.

Ah, another case study of that “morbus Graecorum”

Seneca, De Brevitate Vitae 13

“It would be annoying to list all the people who spent their lives pursuing board games, ball games, or sunbathing. Men whose pleasures are so busy are not at leisure. For example, no one will be surprised that those occupied by useless literary studies work strenuously—and there is great band of these in Rome now too.

This sickness used to just afflict the Greeks, to discover the number of oarsmen Odysseus possessed, whether the Iliad was written before the Odyssey, whether the poems belong to the same author, and other matters like this which, if you keep them to yourself, cannot please your private mind; but if you publish them, you seem less learned than annoying.”

Persequi singulos longum est, quorum aut latrunculi aut pila aut excoquendi in sole corporis cura consumpsere vitam. Non sunt otiosi, quorum voluptates multum negotii habent. Nam de illis nemo dubitabit, quin operose nihil agant, qui litterarum inutilium studiis detinentur, quae iam apud Romanos quoque magna manus est. Graecorum iste morbus fuit quaerere, quem numerum Ulixes remigum habuisset, prior scripta esset Ilias an Odyssia, praeterea an eiusdem essent auctoris, alia deinceps huius notae, quae sive contineas, nihil tacitam conscientiam iuvant sive proferas, non doctior videaris sed molestior.

Cemetery of Ancient Thera. 3rd quarter of the 6th cent. BC Archaeological Museum of Thera.
Photo A. de Graauw, May 2015.

Two Poets, Homer & Odysseus

September 15, 2023 ~ lawrencebenn ~ 1 Comment

Homer. Iliad, 11.401-410.

Spear-famed Odysseus was alone. Not one Argive
was at his side, as fear had gripped them all.
So, his mood raw, he spoke to his own proud heart:
“Ay, what happens next? It’s wrong to cut and run
Scared of the throng, yet worse to be taken alone.
(Zeus has sent the other Danaans scrambling.)
But why is my dear heart debating with me?
I already know cowards steer clear of war
but the best fighter must absolutely
stand firm, whether he’s struck or strikes another.”

οἰώθη δʼ Ὀδυσεὺς δουρὶ κλυτός, οὐδέ τις αὐτῷ
Ἀργείων παρέμεινεν, ἐπεὶ φόβος ἔλλαβε πάντας·
ὀχθήσας δʼ ἄρα εἶπε πρὸς ὃν μεγαλήτορα θυμόν·
ὤ μοι ἐγὼ τί πάθω; μέγα μὲν κακὸν αἴ κε φέβωμαι
πληθὺν ταρβήσας· τὸ δὲ ῥίγιον αἴ κεν ἁλώω
μοῦνος· τοὺς δʼ ἄλλους Δαναοὺς ἐφόβησε Κρονίων.
ἀλλὰ τί ἤ μοι ταῦτα φίλος διελέξατο θυμός;
οἶδα γὰρ ὅττι κακοὶ μὲν ἀποίχονται πολέμοιο,
ὃς δέ κʼ ἀριστεύῃσι μάχῃ ἔνι τὸν δὲ μάλα χρεὼ
ἑστάμεναι κρατερῶς, ἤ τʼ ἔβλητʼ ἤ τʼ ἔβαλʼ ἄλλον.

The Scholia

One scholiast remarks that Homer arranged the scene to achieve an effect of particular importance to a performance artist:

“Odysseus was alone: He [Homer] once again besets Odysseus with struggles, with the consequence that he [Homer] completely engages the [song’s] audience.”

οίώθη δ’ Όδυσεύς: αγώνας πάλιν κινεί επί τω Όδυσσεϊ· ώστε εκ παντός συνέχει τον ακροατήν. (Schol. T. 401)

Another scholiast presents Odysseus as though he too is a self-conscious artist:

“He spoke to his proud heart : He [Odysseus] poetically translates his thoughts as if they were spoken [aloud].”

είπε προς δν μεγαλήτορα Θυμόν: ποιητικώς τά ένθυμηθέντα ώς είρημένα διατυποϊ. (Schol. 403-410. b[BCEE].T.)

Roland Barthes

A quotation of Barthes’ brought to mind–and gratuitously included–by Odysseus’s address to himself:

“Soliloquy makes me a monster: an enormous tongue.”

Le soliloque fait de moi un monstre, une énorme langue. (Fragments d’un Discours Amoureux.)

Photograph of two modern performance poets on stage mid performance — I googled “battling poets jam.” These two are
known as “Twin Poets.”

Anger, Eggs, and Some Semen: A Recipe for Apostasy

September 8, 2023 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ Leave a comment

Further adventures in the Homeric Scholia

Schol. b ad Il. 2.783

“They report that Gaia, annoyed over the murder of the giants, slandered Zeus to Hera and that she went to speak out to Kronos. He gave her two eggs and he rubbed them down with his own semen and ordered her to put them down in the ground from where a spirit would arise who would rebel against Zeus from the beginning. She did this because she was really angry and set them down below Arimos in Kilikia.

But when Typhoeus appeared Hera relented and told Zeus everything. He struck him down with lightning and named him Mt. Aetna. This report works well for us not to have an issue that this is the Homeric Account. He names the grave a resting place euphemistically.”

φασὶ τὴν Γῆν ἀγανακτοῦσαν ἐπὶ τῷ φόνῳ τῶν Γιγάντων διαβαλεῖν Δία τῇ ῞Ηρᾳ. τὴν δὲ πρὸς Κρόνον ἀπελθοῦσαν ἐξειπεῖν. τὸν δὲ δοῦναι αὐτῇ δύο ᾠά, τῷ ἰδίῳ χρίσαντα θορῷ καὶ κελεύσαντα κατὰ γῆς ἀποθέσθαι, ἀφ’ ὧν ἀναδοθήσεται δαίμων ὁ ἀποστήσων Δία τῆς ἀρχῆς. θέσθαι, ἀφ’ ὧν ἀναδοθήσεται δαίμων ὁ ἀποστήσων Δία τῆς ἀρχῆς. ἡ δέ, ὡς εἶχεν ὀργῆς, ἔθετο αὐτὰ ὑπὸ τὸ ῎Αριμον τῆς Κιλικίας. ἀναδο-θέντος δὲ τοῦ Τυφῶνος ῞Ηρα διαλλαγεῖσα Διῒ τὸ πᾶν ἐκφαίνει. ὁ δὲ κεραυνώσας Αἴτνην τὸ ὄρος ὠνόμασεν. καλῶς δὲ καὶ τὸ φασίν, ἵνα μὴ προσκρούοιμεν ὡς ῾Ομηρικῷ ὄντι τῷ στίχῳ. εὐφήμως δὲ τὸν τάφον εὐνὰς ἐκάλεσεν.