A comment on Patrick Roper's brief and moving reflection: I first read Virgil almost 50 years ago, and only recently did I realize that I've also experienced something close to what he describes-- lines that I enjoy in a manner similar to the most simple enjoyment of nature. His mention of Hofstader's fascinating book recalled to me another much shorter work entitled "Nineteen Ways of Looking at Wang Wei." I've forgotten the author's name, but it's a delightful study of one ancient classic poem. If you teach a class on translation, young persons can have a fine journey of the imagination in a few hours...
----- Original Message ----- From: Patrick Roper <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> To: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> Sent: Wednesday, January 14, 2004 6:24 AM Subject: VIRGIL: Virgil in translation > I thought it might add very modestly the debate about teaching Virgil in > translation if I recounted something that has happened to me in the last few > days. > > I am a professional ecologist, not a Classics scholar or a teacher, and I > read Virgil, both in Latin and in translation simply because I enjoy it. > > As an ecologist I have an experimental 1 metre quadrat (interesting > reflection of Latin there) in my garden which I monitor every day. Recently > I was away all day, but made a quick visit to this square of grassy earth > after dark. Afterwards I wrote that the square "was wet, silent and > sleeping." > > A while later I picked up The Aeneid to continue where I had got to in Book > III. The first line I read was "Nox erat et terris animalia somnus > habebant," strikingly similar to my earlier experience and the way I had > expressed it (only much better). > > As far as I am aware, I was not familiar with this line, though it may be > lodged somewhere deep in my unconscious. However, I am sure the idea of the > living earth sleeping is threaded through our culture. I wondered, of > course, if it had started with Virgil, or if he had taken it from earlier > authors. It might, after all, be a universal image. > > Beyond these ruminations there was, however, a further consideration which > is the great satisfaction the line of Virgil gave me. Latin is a language I > never hear spoken and I am sure the way I read it mentally is not much like > the way it might have sounded. I have forgotten almost everything I was > taught about the construction of Latin verse and the line was written over > 2000 years ago with a purpose and intent that was, I imagine, very remote > from my experience in this cold northern land of modern Britannia. Yet it > gives me a satisfaction that somehow seems to me typically, if not uniquely, > Virgilian and I cannot really understand why. It has something, I suppose, > to do with the footfall of the words and what I think of as being a kind of > measured balance of expression. But behind all that it seems to me is a > mystery, the kind of mystery that lies in a piece of music, or a wonderful > sunset that can move to tears but does not, per se, seem to be much of a > reason for weeping. > > I addition I do feel that translation of lines like this may be helpful, may > be interesting, may be striking in their own right, but, for one struggling > Virgil lover, get nowhere near the original. This reminds me of the > fascinating book _Le Ton beau de Marot_ by Douglas Hofstadter (1997) about > many different versions in translation of one medieval French poem, and > about the whole philosophy of language and translation. In my view all the > different versions add to the original and make it even more special when > one returns to it. > > 'Le Ton beau' is, of course, a sort of double entendre on 'Le tombeau' and, > in that sense, untranslatable. I am constantly exercised by the thousands > of such subtleties in Virgil I must miss. Curiously Marot was once > described as "des Francois le Virgile et l'Homere" and it seems Marot was > engaged by the similarity of his name to the that of Publius Vergilius Maro > and did himself translate much from the Classics. > > Surely, the best thing about Virgil in translation is that, if it is good, > it may lead people to the original. You don't need to hear all of Bach to > enjoy the Air on a G String, nor do you need to read all of Virgil in order > to enjoy particular lines or passages. > > Patrick Roper > > > > ----------------------------------------------------------------------- > To leave the Mantovano mailing list at any time, do NOT hit reply. > Instead, send email to [EMAIL PROTECTED] with the message > "unsubscribe mantovano" in the body (omitting the quotation marks). You > can also unsubscribe at http://virgil.org/mantovano/mantovano.htm#unsub ----------------------------------------------------------------------- To leave the Mantovano mailing list at any time, do NOT hit reply. Instead, send email to [EMAIL PROTECTED] with the message "unsubscribe mantovano" in the body (omitting the quotation marks). You can also unsubscribe at http://virgil.org/mantovano/mantovano.htm#unsub
