The incipit of a piece on the IDF from Ynet:
Alexander the Great, the man who conquered the ancient world, said that those who develop new combat methods or who possess new arms will be triumphant.
Did he ever say such a thing?
For the past few days there have been posts on Facebook about some major Australia-England cricket series going on … turns out, there are some ads with a Classical bent for same … the first seems inspired by a certain Russell Crowe film:
… another features Australian cricketer Shane Warne as a Roman emperor, but it doesn’t seem to be online yet … if it shows up, I’ll post it.
I can’t find that we’ve mentioned this one before at rogueclassicism … from ANA/MPA:
Excavation works on a sunken vessel dated to the post Hellenistic era off the resort town of Nea Styra, in the southern Evoikos Gulf separating the mainland and large Evia (Euboea) island, were concluded for 2010.
The ancient vessel was loaded with amphorae, considered extremely interesting, as the cargo, along with wooden remnants. The latter’s presence indicates that the vessel also transported high-value products, possibly sculptures in whole or in parts.
Amphorae Brindisi and vases filled with foods and wines, bronze and iron nails and small parts of copper statues of natural size, along with two legs of a day-bed, were collected and lifted from the vessel.
The wreck was located in 2007 at a depth of 40 to 45 metres. Thirty-six divers, researchers, archaeologists, photographers, architects and other experts took part in the underwater excavation.
The research was organised by the Maritime Antiquities Ephorate and the Institute of Maritime Archaeological Research.
Excavation works will continue and in 2011.
The incipit of one of those science articles with plenty of Latin words … this time, though, there’s also a reference to ‘Etruscan’ divinities:
Mildew infections not only cause unsightly vegetable patches, they can also result in extensive crop failure. Interestingly, the processes involved in infections with this garden pest are similar to those involved in fertilisation. Scientists from the Max Planck Institute for Plant Breeding Research in Cologne and the University of Zurich have identified two proteins in the model plant species Arabidopsis thaliana that are necessary for both fertilisation and infection with powdery mildew. This explains why mildew-resistant plants, in which these genes are mutated, are infertile. (Science, Vol 330, p 968-971)
Pollen tubes and hyphae, the filamentous structures of which fungi are formed, not only look very similar, they also require similar proteins. The two proteins in question, which have just been discovered, are named after the Etruscan fertility goddesses Feronia and Nortia. The scientists discovered that these proteins are both beneficial and harmful to plants. They link the capacity for seed formation with the absence of resistance to mildew infection. [...]
… Feronia was a divinity associated with fertility; Nortia with time (she was the one who was associated with the ritual ‘driving of the nail’ in the Capitoline Temple of Jupiter). Is it just me or do others think ‘Robigo/us’ might have been a better name for at least one of these proteins? Volutina might be another one ..
Excellent feature at Nature (includes a pdf article that’s free!):
Another one that was making the rounds this week. From Fox6:
Father Reginald Foster is trying to resuscitate something most people consider dead; the old language of Latin.
Years ago, Foster spurned the family business for a higher calling. He joined the priesthood. Foster soon learned he excelled at one of the tools of the trade. He spoke Latin like a Roman emperor. That talent was noticed and needed at the Vatican where Latin remains the official language.
For the next 40 years, every official document that came from the Vatican was either written by Foster’s hand or approved with his eyes. That includes the funeral mass of Pope John Paul II, the mass heralding the ascention of Pope Benedict, even the document certifying Jerome Listecki as Milwaukee’s Archbishop.
Foster is an affectionate but strict teacher. He says Latin demands discipline and dedication. He makes all of his students sign a tough contract.
“I tell the students, you can take off your shoes or clothes or bring beer or wine in class, I don’t care if you make one stupid mistake, you’re out!” said Foster.
Foster wants Latin to survive. Yet, he laments the long, slow death of the language. That begs the question: If Latin is dead, which is to say it’s not really spoken anywhere anymore, then why is it still important?
Foster says, “Relevant! Because it’s about three quarters of our western civilization, for one. All of our thoughts, ideas, prayers and all this other stuff has come through Latin!”
Anyone interested in taking Fr. Foster’s class should mail a short note of interest to Reginald Foster at 3553 S. 41st St. in Milwaukee. He’ll send you a contract and you can take the class for free in Milwaukee.
… the original post has a nice television news segment on Foster as well. Definitely worth a look; I’m sure Father Foster would cringe at the voiceover’s use of ‘begging the question’ … also nice to see a Latinist using a document camera (sorry … I can’t embed it).
One of the things that was being passed around the past week (during which occurred American Thanksgiving, of course) was this humourous item on Thanksgiving seating arrangements, as interpreted by College Humor:
… which was very interesting from a Classics point of view when one thinks about Roman triclinium seating arrangements. Here’s Pedar Foss’ diagram of same (via uSydney) … AGE, GENDER, AND STATUS DIVISIONS AT MEALTIME IN THE ROMAN HOUSE: a synopsis of the literary evidence is definitely worth a look if you’ve never visited:
Now, given that lectus imus #1 is the place of the host, that would correspond, presumably, with ‘dad’ above, putting grandpa in the locus consularis, which makes sense. Beside grandpa comes grandma, then the tipsy mom, who is pretty much the furthest away from the host (no comment). Beside dad is the creepy uncle, who is presumably only there because he is dad’s brother. The locus summus is presumably reserved for the various kids, legitimate and otherwise … not much has changed!
Here’s something I didn’t know … there’s a Classicist behind Inspector Morse … from the incipit of a feature at FT.com:
Crime writer Colin Dexter has become inextricably linked with the city of Oxford, where his bestselling Inspector Morse novels are set. So it is interesting to discover that he went to university at Cambridge. More than that, he didn’t get round even to visiting Oxford until the late 1950s, when he went to meet the later-to-be-disgraced media tycoon Robert Maxwell.
Back then, Dexter was a classics teacher in Corby, Northamptonshire, while Maxwell was the boss of Pergamon Press, a specialist academic publisher. “We met up to discuss my writing a few textbooks for him, which I duly did,” says Dexter, who recently turned 80. “Even if he did turn out to be a crookster, he was always very kind to me.” [...]
… and here’s an interesting bit from the middle:
“I’ve written 19 books in all and I haven’t touched a typewriter, let alone a computer key, in all that time. I wrote them all out in longhand on ruled paper using a blue Biro. Then I got them typed up by a dear old lady down the road. She was very good even if some of the pages were smeared with red nail varnish.”
I still remember marvelling at seeing a copy of Mommsen’s ‘thesis’ (can’t remember where) … handwritten and only 30 or so pages …
I don’t think there is any new discovery lurking behind this one, but it’s interesting to bring it up as a reminder that not all gladiators died in the arena:
An ancient site in the southwestern province of Muğla is believed to be the land where gladiators lived after they retired.
Excavations carried out in Muğla’s Yatağan district uncovered the city of Stratoniceia, where the largest gymnasium in Anatolia and a graveyard for gladiators are located. The excavation is expected to shed light on gladiator fights from about 1,800 years ago.
“We believe that gladiators retired and lived in Stratoniceia. As much as it is a city of marble, Stratoniceia is also a city of gladiators,” excavation head Bilal Söğüt, a professor at the department of archeology at Denizli’s Pamukkale University, told the Anatolia news agency.
Söğüt said it has many aspects that distinguish it from other ancient sites, including the gymnasium and the fact that the city was one of gladiators.
A necropolis including tombs of gladiators was uncovered in the northern part of the city. “The gravestones found there are on display at the Muğla Museum. Among them are very famous gladiators, including Droseros, who was killed by Akhilleus, as well as Vitalius, Eumelus, Amaraios, Khrysopteros and Khrysos. Droseros had 17 victories, losing to Akhilleus in the end,” Söğüt explained.
Nowhere else in Anatolia is home to this many gladiator gravestones, he said. More gladiator gravestones are expected to be uncovered during the ongoing excavation. “We hope to discover more gladiator names in the coming years. We will have a clearer picture of the area in the future. We will discover more items here,” Söğüt said.
Muğla Provincial Culture and Tourism Director Kamil Özer said they will carry out a campaign in 2011 to promote the seven gravestones on display at the Muğla Museum. “We first plan to restore the museum building. We aim to promote the building’s gladiator hall, especially at international fairs. [Muğla’s] culture tourism is lucky to have the gravestones of these seven gladiators exhibited at the Muğla Museum,” he said. The gravestones are accompanied by images from the hit movie “Gladiator” on display at the museum.
If you want to get an idea of what’s at the Mugla Museum, damiandude has a nice flickrset …
One of the things I constantly wrestle with as a blogger is whether to post things as soon as they come out and risk having a better version/more detailed version come out later — as often happens — or hold onto things and let them sit in my 2blog file, where they often get forgotten. In this case, something just hit my email box that reminded me of the others. So, to begin our little excursus, way back in September, Kristina Killgrove was first to alert me (and several others followed) to the cover of Amanda Claridge’s Rome: An Archaeological Guide:
… apparently they’ve dealt with that leaking roof thing at the Pantheon. Then our longtime Classics list friend Yong-Ling Ow mentioned on Facebook the cover of Miriam Greenblatt’s Julius Caesar and the Roman Republic:
… which appears to be sporting the image of a ‘different’ Julius Caesar. Today’s offering is not as dramatic as the previous two, but displays one of my personal bugbears. Natalie Haynes’ The Ancient Guide to Modern Life actually looks interesting from an initial review, but the cover looks like this:
… which does that thing of using Greek letters as if they were English … rotating omegas for ‘c’ and ‘u’ … sigmas for ‘e’ … something theta-like for ‘o’ … still, not as bad as a local hall called the “Olympia” which rendered its name in Greek letters and used a Psi for the ‘y’.
I don’t know if this is an unhealthy obsession or what, but over the years, one of the recurring things at rogueclassicism has been on the origin of ‘toasting’, in the sense of raising a glass at some festival/celebration and making some kind words. The usual tale is that there is some connection between the ancient Romans/Greeks or whoever putting a burnt piece of bread (toast!) in their wine to make it taste better. I think we first pondered it on the cusp of 2005/2006 and declared it officially silly on the cusp of 2008/2009.
This year, the story seems to come much in advance of its usual New Year’s Eve context and is somewhat modified … here’s the incipit of the piece that caught my eye:
Since ancient times, from the Greeks to the Romans, glasses of wine had been lifted in either celebration to their gods or to those recently fallen. This raising of the glass evolved through time in celebration of great accomplishments or an oath of loyalty.
Fast forward to 1643. The Middle Temple, who often used cooked bread (or obviously toast) to dip in their wine to improve the flavor, raised their glasses to then-Princess Elizabeth of Bohemia, swearing their allegiance and lives to her. [...]
… which I use by way of introduction to reponder the question and see if this takes off (heheheh, he said, rubbing his hands in evil glee between key strokes). The thought occurred to me in one of my pre-caffeinated states one a.m. that what we call ‘a toast’ might actually be a corruption of Latin ‘tuis’ (dative) or ‘ad tuos’ (accusative) which one could imagine being said in some sort of ‘toasting’ context. I’m too lazy to Google it, but it’s probably been suggested already. Of course, the SMBC cartoon in the previous post most likely applies here …
Some interesting tidbits hit my emailbox over the past few days, and it seems that they might be best presented together. The first two are actually cartoons posted by James McGrath on facebook in regards to how ‘science reporting’ seems to work … seems to me, they work just as well for archaeological reporting. The first comes from Abstruse Goose and reminds me of that ‘gladiatrix’ story from a few months ago:
Next, from SMBC:
… which pretty much applies to the ‘Lost Legion in China’ stuff of late …
Coincidentally this week, rogueclassicism was mentioned in passing in the Times Higher Education thing in an article by Jay Kennedy (“My Dan Brown Moment”), whose work in what’s been dubbed ‘The Plato Code’, will fall into one or the other categories above for many of our readers, depending on which side of the fence they’re on.