Happy New Year to all on the Gregorian calendar. Happy Wednesday/Thursday to all.
https://indiaandersonmusic.bandcamp.com/track/what-are-you-doing-new-years-eve
Happy New Year to all on the Gregorian calendar. Happy Wednesday/Thursday to all.
https://indiaandersonmusic.bandcamp.com/track/what-are-you-doing-new-years-eve
I watched Melville’s 1963 film L’aîné des Ferchaux (“The Elder Son of the Ferchaux Family”, also known as Magnet of Doom or An Honorable Young Man). It’s got some reputation as a road movie, and for the first half of its run is pretty interesting. Michel Maudet, a Frenchman with Italian ancestry who tries to make it as a boxer, is played by Jean-Paul Belmondo, a Frenchman with Italian ancestry who tried to make it as a boxer.
More Doom Awaits Beyond the Jump!Came across this choice bit of abuse this afternoon:
πλεύμονα αὐτὸν ἐκάλει καὶ ἀγράμματον καὶ ἀπατεῶνα καὶ πόρνον.
—Diogenes Laertius 10.8
I render this as: “He <Epicurus> calls him <Democritus> a mollusk and an illiterate and a cheat and a whore.”
I’m pretty confident about everything but the last word. Sex words in ancient languages are somewhat difficult to translate because the dictionaries have traditionally been prissy on these dangerous subjects. LSJ squirmingly defines πόρνος as “catamite; sodomite”… as if same-sex activity between men weren’t widely acceptable in the ancient Greek world. The newish (2021) Cambridge Greek Dictionary does better, defining πόρνος as “male prostitute; rent boy.”
That male sticks in my craw, though. (Don’t go sticking things in my craw.) I think there’s a widespread presumption among modern English speakers that terms about sex-workers are feminine by default, so that the term whore would misgender the Greek word (and atomist philosopher).
But rent boy, though contemptuous, is light-hearted, whereas whore seems like an angrier word, a closer match to the Greek. I could render πόρνος as male whore, but that would endorse the (incorrect) assumption that male sex-workers are some kind of anomaly.
I realize that I have just written more than 150 words about one word. If you have a philologist in your life, that won’t surprise you. If you don’t… well, count your blessings, I guess.
Some discussion of thews and thewbilation in the Sword and Sorcery Tavern on Discord made me curious about the etymology of thew.
I consulted my friend, the democratic AHD, and it hit me in the face with this.
Did not expect it to derive from a word meaning “habit; custom”. That seems a pretty abstract origin for such a fleshy word. But I guess you don’t develop thews in the modern sense without the habit of exercise. Or so I’m told by those who have them.
I like the word thewy, though, and I wish it would come into more general use.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“Thewy.”
Orel’s Handbook of Germanic Etymology (my go-to resource in these matters) didn’t help any, so I slouched over to the tyrant OED. No further etymology was available, but there was a lot of historical stuff about the meandering usage of the word in modern English.
For instance, it used to refer to “physical good qualities, features, or personal endowments” generally.
The Turberville quotes made me wonder: how ripped was Helen? Homer is silent on this important subject; modern storytellers will have to ask and answer the question.
One of the long-lost pleasures of vinyl that I’m recently recovering is going through stacks of used LPs at record stores. These are thinner on the ground than they were in the 20th C, but when I find one I almost always come away with something great.
I don’t remember being crazy about Orff’s Carmina Catulli, but it is the most famous setting of Catullus’ verse, which I’m teaching again next semester in my Upper Latin class.
There’s some Latin in Prokofiev’s Alexander Nevsky, too: the villainous Crusaders mysteriously intone some sinister-sounding Latin phrases that don’t turn out to mean much. (Peregrinus expectavi pedes meos in cymbalis: “I, a pilgrim, awaited my feet in the cymbals”.) This cantata early went into my mental soundtracks, and a couple scenes in Morlock stories are choreographed to different sections.
There’s no Latin or Greek in the Mahler, unless you count the symphony’s nickname, but that’s okay. I’m not usually crazy about Mahler’s vocal music.
Also: Past-Me did Present-Me a solid by ordering a bunch of books that arrived today, just in time for a weekend when I’ll have very little time for reading. I fall upon the thorns of life; I shrug.
I finally replaced the turntable that broke a couple of moves ago, and have been enjoying long soaks in analogue sound. It’s fun to finally listen to the vinyl I’ve been buying to support bands over the last few years, & also to drag old favorites out of boxes in the basement.
The Prokofiev is the first album I bought with my own money. Weird that I still have it when so many other things and people have been lost over the years.
The aforesaid boxes are completely disorganized, so discoveries are somewhat random. Can’t find my Yes albums, Hendrix, or Lamont Cranston. I did find some of the original non-musical Cranston. Remember kids: the weed of crime bears bitter fruit!
Many things about Trumpism are disgusting, but there’s a specific kind of abject ecstacy in Trumpolatry that is really repulsive. “It’s like something from Tacitus,” I always think. Today I ran across the quote I’d been not-quite remembering.
clamor vocesque vulgi ex more adulandi nimiae et falsae: quasi dictatorem Caesarem aut imperatorem Augustum prosequerentur, ita studiis votisque certabant, nec metu aut amore, sed ex libidine servitii.
—Tacitus, Historiae 1.90
“The shouting and the slogans of the crowd were over-the-top and dishonest—as if they were honoring the dictator Julius or the emperor Augustus. They were competing with worship and prayers not from fear or love, but from the lust of servitude.”
Libido servitii “the lust of servitude”: that’s the behavior of Trumpists (e.g. Howard Lutnick, Jeanine Pirro, Pam Bondi, etc) in a nutshell. (The crowd in the quote is an assembly summoned by the usurper Otho, much like a Trumpist rally.)
When Howard Lutnick raises his chin and moans in bearded ecstacy about the glories of “this president”, I hear echoes of that rally for Otho almost 2000 years ago.
Otho was emperor for about four months. Just tossing that out there.
visual example behind the cut