Homer & Virgil: Resources for Original Language, English to follow
February 26, 2011

This semester I am taking both Greek poetry and Latin poetry. For Greek we are running through Homer’s Odyssey and in Latin, Virgil’s Aeneid. I thought it would be fun to post a few resources I’ve found quite helpful for reading them in case there were some readers who thought running through them would be fun. And indeed they are fun! I’ll admit I continue to find Latin hard to deal with, which is counter intuitive as it is clearly the simpler language, but it just hasn’t ‘clicked’ for me yet even though I’m in my fourth semester. So I tend to get frustrated with Virgil because sometimes I feel like he’s keeping me from reading my Greek. But that’s not always the case, two scenes in particular were a blast to read; the one where Neptune rebukes the winds and the one where Laocoon urges the Trojans not to take the horse into the city and throws a spear into the side of it.
At least one thing about Homer is that he is not as transparently idealogical as Virgil-the-court-poet giving a founding myth for Rome and incorporating some blatantly political similes in the mix. Homer uses similes in a very different way, a way far more whimsical and random. For instance in that Neptune scene I mentioned, Virgil compares Neptune calming the sea to “some man” who quells a revolutionary riot (the Romans have never liked res novae have they?
), but in book VI, Homer compares Nausicaa playing ball with her handmaidens to Artemis dancing upon the mountains, chasing deer and boar with the nymphs dedicated to Zeus, which delights her mother. Homer, too, has a crapload of archaisms in his work, words and phrases that were so old apparently he didn’t even know what they meant, some of which may have gone back to pre-Indo-European languages – those especially connected to places.
Alexander Pope once said “Homer makes us hearers, but Virgil leaves us readers,” and that at least is true. Homer’s work has its roots and form in oral poetry, but Virgil’s is a literary work; Homer most often can finish a thought per line of hexameter but Virgil sometimes makes you wait a few lines before you get the verb – which is perfectly normal Latin but it makes for a heady kind of poetry. You have to connect more dots that way. Still, I’m excited to continue with both of them.
If you are already confident with the languages then you can do no better value-wise than getting the Oxford Classical Text of both. Not only are they very affordable for a basic critical text they are housed in a classy high-quality blue hardcover of a more manageable size than the Loebs. The more expensive paperback Teubner editions don’t strike me as worth the effort unless the OCT in question is woefully out of date. I should note, though, that the prefaces are in Latin! A huge plus with Virgil is that his is a single volume that contains all of his works. Homer’s Odyssey is in two volumes (I and II), as is his Illiad (I and II); his hymns to the gods and fragments complete the five volumes of his total works.
If you’re rusty on the languages and/or want a one stop shop you could instead get the Loeb editions as they contain an edited original language text with facing English translation as well as a very helpful introduction, minor commentary and index; but at least for Homer I have another English translation that I want to recommend, plus the textual apparatus in the OCT is more complete than the that in the Loeb. That said, the Loebs of course are great and scholarly… an extended apparatus is really only for the very serious scholar of classics who would have the wherewithal to make textual decisions. I only wish the Loeb’s would make their books a bit bigger.
The text we’ve been assigned for Virgil is an edited and expanded edition of the famous work of Clyde Pharr. It’s a huge help, indeed sometimes too much of a help! The notes are helpful, the more sparsely used vocabulary is glossed on the page, and there are lists for vocabulary memorization according to how many times a given work appears in the books examined. This is a ‘standard’ intermediate text of Virgil.
For Homer, we’ve been assigned the W. B. Stanford text out on Bristol. The introduction is just great and includes historical and morphological notes as well as an explanation of dactylic hexameter. Unfortunately I’ve found the endnotes far less helpful as a general rule; they often interact with other secondary literature of which I have no knowledge, besides, the grammar is most often straightforward, what takes time with Homer is the endless looking up of vocabulary. Which led me to find these amazing books (books VI-VIII & IX-XII) put out by a Phd who teaches high school kids the classics, Dr. Geoffrey Steadman. He takes pedagogical style from Pharr and uses it for Homer. So on the left side of the open book there are 20 lines of text and on the side opposite, minor grammatical notes and most importantly, all the non-major vocabulary glossed with stats on how often the word appears. So instead of spending 80% of your time getting vocab, you can get more familiar with the text. I’ve found his book absolutely essential. But I should note that Steadman self-publishes because nobody seems interested in his texts, so there will be minor mistakes here and there, but I’m able to catch them quickly. There are two things which would perfect his work, 1) A more extensive introduction such as Stanford’s, and 2) Grammatical references to Smyth’s Greek Grammar as in the Mather-Hewitt Xenophon text. Steadman has also made all his books available in PDF form for free on this site, though he asks that if you use them often perhaps consider purchasing a book to support his work. Finally, in case you didn’t know, there is a lexicon dedicated exclusively to Homeric use that one ought to have.
Finally, there is the Perseus website – an indispensable resource for studying ancient literature in the original langages. You can find most of the standard classics there. The texts are morphologically tagged so if you click on a word it will parse it for you and give you statistics for where it turns up. These statistics can be used to compile helpful vocab lists as well.
Discernment for Holy Orders, Part 1
February 16, 2011

It’s been so long since I’ve last posted that I feel like an imposter here, but I’ve been told before that I harbor too much residual evangelical guilt.
After a time of further reflection on the part of myself and the leadership of my parish, and after a time of immersing myself in the ministry of said parish, I officially began meeting with a committee of parish lay persons and leaders last night. Deos Gratias! I can now call myself an aspirant for holy orders in the Episcopal church. I’m pretty excited, I must say; and a little freaked out. Nothing like a Grand Inquis…er…discernment committee coupled with a wife nearing the end of her first pregnancy (Miserere mei, Deus) to deeply unsettle a guy on an existential and emotional level (By the way, I blame my recent writer’s block on this unsettling [unsettlement?]).
The discernment committee, as the first step on a long road toward ordination, is composed of a group of women and men from my parish family, who were called by Fr. Goodman (the priest of my parish) to put my call under rigorous scrutiny. Last night, the Fr. Goodman emphasized that to allow me to proceed toward ordination as a priest if I was not truly called would not be doing me or my family any favors, and I couldn’t agree more. At the same time, of course, I want to be a priest (a fact that is still–a year and half after acknowledging a call from God–unsettling for me, and even troubling for some of my family). So, I suppose I will just have to see what happens.
O inscrutabilis Scrutator animarum, cui patet omne cor, si me vocaveras, olim a te fugeram. Si autem nunc velis vocare me indignum…
As a member of my generation stereotypically would, I got permission to blog about the whole process, so that is what I intend to do. My first two posts (which should appear before my next committee meeting which is at the end of March), will be:
a) to present a sort of bibliography of priestly/call-to-ministry books both fiction and non-fiction, with a call for suggestions on further reading,
and
b) to publish a spiritual autobiography (in entirety or excerpts), which is my homework, due before the next meeting.
Meanwhile, ora pro me (and correct my Latin, if needed).
The Saints and I…and You, too…if You Want.
September 22, 2010
I would like to say that it’s complicated, but maybe it’s not, my relationship with the saints. I know that as an Episcopalian I’m allowed to do whatever I will with them. If I were on the low church, evangelical side of things, I could write them off completely, and go to one of those parishes that don’t have a patron saint–unfortunately, Grace Episcopal just doesn’t have the pathos for me that St. Alban’s Episcopal or St. Bede’s Episcopal does. On the other hand, if I were a bit more Anglo-Catholic than I am, I would probably be going all mari0logical on someone’s ass (forgive my French, O Theotokos). Being more realistically in the broad church part of the spectrum (as I understand it), and being a former member of the Assemblies of God, my understanding of saints and a Christian’s proper relationship to them is probably a little fuzzier (and more self-conscious) than someone who has grown up with Church Tradition being almost second nature.
Here are some fuzzy thoughts on saints, maybe my blog friends can help me scrub them up a bit:
1) I love saints. I love their stories, and that aspect is what I find the most spiritually efficacious. I am inspired by the lives of the saints to live my own life more wholly devoted to God. Wearing a saint’s medal around my neck reminds of my desire to live this godly lifestyle (an easy fact to forget sometimes), and marking saint’s feast days as a part of the Church Calendar helps me to live out the Christian life more fully and incarnationally in all aspects of my day-to-day routine.
2) I understand, or think I understand, the argument for asking saints to pray for you as in Sancte Augustine, ora pro nobis (et cervisiam). But I’m a little uneasy with the idea of bringing requests directly to saints, as some in the liturgical tradition seem to do (but do they really, or that just residual protestant propaganda floating around in my head?).
3) In a particularly Episcopalian (as opposed to RC) stance, I don’t feel that it is necessary to be canonized in order to be saint. On the other hand, I don’t want to be too inclusive: Sancte Elvis, ora pro NO-bis. There needs to be some sort of consensus (damn, I am wishy-washy!), some sort of standard. But all I know is that Dorothy Day and MLK are both as saintly as anyone from the Roman Missal, and deserve to be recognized as such even if their jawbones never do heal someone of the scurvy.
So, now that I’ve laid out my silliness (and blasphemy? and heresy? and idolatry?)for all to read, who’s going to tell me about their understanding of and relationship with the saints?
How to Tell if an Author Knows Latin
May 2, 2010

Consider these, the first two sentences of Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic, Treasure Island. The length, the structure, the use of verbs and syntax; these are the lines of someone who knew something about Classical languages. Enjoy:
“Squire Trelawney, Dr. Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17–, and go back to the time when my father kept the “Admiral Benbow” inn, and the brown old seaman with the saber cut first took up his lodging under our roof.
I remember him as if it were yesterday, as he came plodding to the inn door, his sea chest following behind him in a handbarrow; a tall, strong, heavy, nut-brown man; his tarry pigtail falling over the shoulders of his soiled blue coat; his hands ragged and scarred, with black broken nails; and the saber cut across one cheek; a dirty, livid white.“
A Pre-eminant Theophiliac
November 23, 2008

Guess who we are related to Dan? Apparently, Amadeus is an attempt to translate Theophilus into pure latin. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart…a Theophiliac

