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These are quotations for the year 2018. For other years, go back to the first quotation page for the Index to Quotations.

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RAILROAD HISTORY OF CORA ANGIER SOWA
Chapter 1 of The Loom of Minerva: An Introduction to Computer Projects for the Literary Scholar, "A Guide to the Labyrinth"
"The Eureka Machine for Composing Hexameter Latin Verses" (1845)
"Verbal Patterns in Hesiod's Theogony"
Selected Excerpts from Chapters of Traditional Themes and the Homeric Hymns
"Thought Clusters in Early Greek Oral Poetry"
"Holy Places", a study of myths of landmarks
"Epilogue to 'Holy Places': the World Trade Center as a Mythic Place"
Writings on Building and Architecture
"Ancient Myths in Modern Movies"
Archived "Quotations of the Month"
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Apollo playing the lyre

Illustration: Apollo, patron god of music, plays the lyre, the instrument with which the bard accompanied himself as he sang of mythical stories or the news of the day.




Archived quotations of the month

Beginning with September, 2004, my home page will feature a different quotation from Classical or other literature each month, appropriate to the season or to current events. Starting in October, 2004, these pages will contain "Quotations of the Month" from previous months. Translations are my own, except where otherwise noted.

Below is the index to the quotations for 2018, followed by the quotations themselves.

Index to quotations for 2018

Below are quotations for the year 2018. For other years, go back to the first quotation page for the Index to Quotations or click on one of the years below:

Quotations of the Month for the year 2018

Click on a link to read each quotation

2018

Quotation for March, 2018

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Rose

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For the Beginning of Spring, a Poem From the Appendix Ausoniana

Flora

"Flora" by the German artist Hans Thoma (1839-1924). Thoma painted many pictures of idealized rural life, both in his native Bavaria and in Italy. He also painted many mythological and allegorical subjects, as well as realistic portraits of family and friends and several self-protraits — the original "selfies." (Incidentally, Thoma was a relative of mine, an uncle of my grandmother, Virginia Schmid Cooper, an artist working in California. Illustration from Thoma, des Meisters Gemälde in 874 Abbildungen, 1909.)


The spring equinox

Spring is here, as we celebrate Easter, Passover, and the spring equinox, partaking of festivals both religious and secular. Baseball season has begun, too.

For the March Quotation of the Month, we offer a poem from late antiquity that describes a walk through the garden in early morning, with the poet musing on roses that bloom in morning, but fall at night.

The poems ascribed to Ausonius

Our poem has traditionally been ascribed to the poet Ausonius (ca.310-ca.395 A.D.), a native of Burdigala in Roman Aquitaine (modern Bordeaux), who was a tutor to the future emperor Gratian, and later made by him a consul. In some manuscripts the poem is even ascribed To Vergil. More recently, however, it is classed with the Appendix Ausoniana, a group of writings probably not by Ausonius, but from a later period.

Gather Ye Rosebuds

In the opening lines of the poem, which we quote, we find our poet wandering one spring morning in his rose garden, admiring the jewels of frost that cling to shrubs and flowers. But these are jewels that will disappear with the rising sun. His thoughts turn to the roses — does the Dawn steal her colors from the rose, or is it the other way around? For Venus is the goddess of both Morning Star and rose.

In the rest of the poem, he sees the roses in all stages of their birth, lovely maturity, and death, as their petals fall upon the ground. The flower that the Morning Star beheld being born is elderly by nightfall. But from death new life will arise. The poet ends with lines that anticipate Robert Herrick's 17th century "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may," saying "Virgin, gather roses while the flower is new and youth is new,/ and be mindful that your lifetime hurries on."

Below, in Latin and English, are the opening lines of this anonymous poem. The Latin is from the Loeb edition, Vol. 2 pp.277-280. A line appears to be missing from the text after verse 9.

Appendix Ausoniana De Rosis Nascentibus 1-22

Rosis Nascentibus 1-22

Dew upon the roses

It was spring, and the day, brought back by saffron morn,
after a biting cold, was breathing with a pleasant feel.
A lighter breeze had preceded Dawn's yoked team,
moving me to anticipate a day of heat.
I was wandering along the square-cornered paths of my well-watered garden plots
wishing to be enlivened by the best part of the day.
I saw the frost hanging stiff on bending grasses
or standing on the tops of garden herbs,
and round drops playing together on the broad cabbage leaves.
. . .
I saw the rose-beds rejoicing, cultivated like those at Paestum,
all dewy at the newly risen morning star, bringer of light.
Here and there a jewel glishtened white on the frosty bushes
destined to perish at the day's first rays.
You can debate whether Aurora stole her blush from the rose,
or whether she gives it and the risen day dyes the flowers.
One dew, one color, one morning for both,
for Venus is mistress of the morning star and of the flower.
Perhaps also one scent. But the one is diffused high above us on the breezes,
whereas this breathes its fragrance closer to us.
The goddess of Paphos, shared by star and flower alike,
bids both be inhabited by one red color.
. . .


Hans Thoma Spring

Frülingswiese ("Spring Meadow"), one of Thoma's idealized landscapes. No particular place is named here. (From Thoma, des Meisters Gemälde in 874 Abbildungen, 1909.)


Quotation for February, 2018

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Paper Dog

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For the Lunar Year of the Dog: Odysseus' Dog Argus Recognizes his Disguised Master (Odyssey Book 17)

Meleager with dog

Above: Meleager, with his hunting dog, in a Roman statue of the first century A.D. It is one of many copies of a lost bronze sculpture by the fourth century B.C. artist Scopas of Paros. Meleager was a member of the Argonautic expedition and participated in the Calydonian Boar Hunt. In some versions of the statue, as in this one, Meleager is depicted with the head of the boar. (from the Fusconi-Pighini collection, Museo Pio-Clementino, Rome.) photo upoaded to Wikimedia by Jastrow (Marie-Lan Nguyen).

Top: Dog Year Paper Cutting, by Fanghong, in Wikimedia.



The Chinese Year of the Dog

In the Chinese Lunar Calendar, 2018 is a Year of the Dog. Depending on the year, the dog may be associated with one of five elements. In 2018 it is associated with the Earth element; others may be Wood Dogs, Fire dogs, Metal Dogs, and Water Dogs. Persons born in a Year of the Dog are independent, energetic, sincere, and loyal. They can also be stubborn. For our Quotation of the Month, we have chosen one of the most memorable dogs in ancient epic, Odysseus' old hunting dog Argus, who greets Odysseus after twenty years, as described in Book 17 of the Odyssey.

Argus, Odysseus' faithful hunting dog, alone recognizes his disguised master

It is one of the most poignant recognition scenes in Homer, as the ancient dog and the disguised hero recognize each other. The humans, however, are oblivious.

Odysseus, having wandered far and suffered much during and after the fall of Troy, at last reaches the shores of his native Ithaca, in disguise as a common tramp. He is taken in, as described in Book 14, by the swineherd Eumaeus, who has taken faithful care of Odysseus' herd in his master's absence. Regularly, he must provide fat boars to the evil Suitors for their banquets, as they feast at Odysseus' expense while wooing his wife Penelope. Eumaeus has built, without telling anyone, a palatial set of pens for the hogs, and even sleeps next to the animals to keep guard over them. Ever cautious, Odysseus does not reveal his true identity to Eumaeus, but spins yarns about his supposed origin, still testing Eumaeus' loyalty.

While Odysseus and Eumaeus are talking, Odysseus' son Telemachus arrives, having made his own journey (in the first four books of the Odyssey) in a fruitless search for his father, while eluding the Suitors' plans to kill him off. Odysseus, while Eumaeus is out of the room, reveals himself to Telemachus, but only after the goddess Athena, changes his appearance from his beggar's clothes. Then, before Eumaeus returns, she changes him back again. At last, Odysseus, led by Eumaeus, proceeds up to the big house, to confront the taunts of the Suitors, who little know the revenge Odysseus will bring upon them.

Argus, his mission accomplished, can die happy

As Odysseus and Eumaeus approach the house, Odysseus sees his old hunting dog Argus — since argos means "brightly shining" or "swift," we might call him "Flash" — he is lying in a pile of manure, covered with ticks, uncared-for and neglected. But Argus alone, the old and tattered dog, recognizes Odysseus, in the form of the old and tattered man. Too weak to get up, he wags his tail and lowers his ears in a playful position. They know each other, but Odysseus cannot give himself away, and turns his head as he wipes away a tear. He asks Eumaeus what happened, and the old swineherd tells him how the young men used to hunt with Argus, but now none of the staff cares for him. (He gets in a dig at the institution of slavery, saying that slaves are unwilling to work because "when a man becomes a slave, Zeus takes away half their qualities.")

Odysseus and Eumaeus proceed into the hall, but Argus, his life's mission accomplished, dies happy, having finally seen his master after twenty years.

Below, in Greek and English, is the scene in the Odyssey in which Argus and Odysseus, unbeknownst to others, recognize each other.

Odyssey 17.290-327

Odyssey 17 290-327

Argus, when he and Odysseus have recognized each other, dies happy

Thus they [Odysseus and Eumaios] spoke to each other.
But a dog lying there raised his head and ears,
Argos, stouthearted Odysseus' dog, whom he himself
had raised, but had never had use of, before going to holy Troy.
In former times the young men used to lead him
against wild goats and deer and rabbits.
But now he lay despised, his master gone,
in a heap of manure of mules and cattle,
which lay in great quantity before the doors, until the slaves
would take it to fertilize the great lands of Odysseus.
There the dog Argos lay, full of ticks.
Then, when he became aware that Odysseus was near,
he wagged his tail and lowered his ears,
but had not the strength to approach closer to his master.
Odysseus, looking aside, wiped away a tear,
easily avoiding Eumaios' attention, but immediately questioned him:

Eumaios, this is a very strange thing, that dog lying in the manure.
He is beautiful in form, but this I do not clearly know
if he was swift at running to match that appearance,
or whether he was like what those table dogs become.
Their masters care for them as adornments.

Then, swineherd Eumaios, you addressed him in answer:
"Yes, indeed, this is the dog of a man who has died far away.
If he were such in form and in deeds,
as when Odysseus left him to go to Troy,
you would quickly see his speed and strength.
No creature that he chased escaped him in the depths
of the deep wood, for he was skilled in tracking.
But now he is in the grip of misfortune; and his master has perished
far from his native land, and the women, heedless, do no care for him.
The slaves, when the masters no longer direct them,
no longer are willing to work as they should.
For far-seeing Zeus takes away half of a man's qualities,
when the day of slavery seizes him."

So saying, he entered the well-built house,
and went straight to the great hall with the noble suitors.
But Argos was taken by the black fate of death,
now that he had seen Odysseus in the twentieth year.


Hades, Persephone, and Cerberus

Hades and Persephone at home with the family dog, Cerberus, who seems to be begging for a bone with all three of his heads. Obviously, that much-feared canine, like the legendary Irish wolfhound, is "fierce when provoked, but gentle when stroked." (Illustration from Seyffert's A Dictionary of Classical Antiquities, 1899.)


Quotation for January, 2018

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Petronius Arbiter

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For Rev. Martin Luther King's Birthday: Petronius Arbiter on Making Your Own Dreams

Roman Ship 50 AD

Above: Prow of a Roman two-banked war ship, ca. 50 A.D. From a relief found in the Temple of Fortune at Praeneste, now in the Vatican. Note the leather bags around the ports through which the oars stick from the hull; these keep water from getting in around the oars, but do not constrict their movement. (Illustration from Cecil Torr, Ancient Ships, , 1895.)

In Petronius' poem, the sailor may dream that he saves his capsized ship, or that he clings to it as it sinks.

Top: Drawing of Petronius Arbiter from Favissae, utriusque antiquitatis tam romanae quam graecae. . . by Henricus Spoor, 1707, p. 101.



"I have a dream" still resonates

The Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., whose holiday we celebrate the third Monday of every year (in 2018 on his actual birthday, January 15), gave his "I have a Dream" speech at the March on Washington on August 28, 1963. The repeated refrain came in an extemporized coda to a prepared speech, in which he was urged on by the great gospel singer Mahalia Jackson, who called out to him from the crowd, "Tell them about the dream, Martin!" Inspired, he spoke of the American dream, and of his own dream that one day America would "live up to its creed, that 'We hold these truths to be self evident: that all men are created equal.'"

Together with his other great speech, "I've been to the mountaintop ... and I've seen the Promised Land," delivered on April 3, 1968, one day before his assassination, King's "Dream" speech takes its place among the world's great inspirational orations.

Petronius as an observer of the Roman scene

Our Quotation of the Month is a short poem concerning dreams, and the role each individual plays in deciding what his or her dreams will be. It is by a rather unlikely writer, the Roman Petronius Arbiter (27 A.D.-66 A.D.), whose surname doubtless came from his position at Nero's court as arbiter elegantiae or "judge of elegance." While he seems to have been an able administrator in his position as governor of Bithynia and as consul, he was (as described by Tacitus) more famous for his love of idleness and extravagance. He is best known today as the probable author of the Satyricon, a novel that we have in incomplete form, which satirizes Roman life as he must have known it all too well. Its most famous passage is the Cena Trimalchionis, "Trimalchio's Dinner," an outrageous depiction of over-the-top excess.

Petronius made enemies at court, and accused, whether justly or unjustly, of conspiracy against the emperor, was arrested. Deciding to go out on his own terms, he committed suicide, slitting his wrists, then playfully bandaging them up again, while conversing with his friends, then finally consigning himself to death.

Petronius on our own role in choosing our dreams

In addition to the gross Satyricon, Petronius also wrote poems on a variety of subjects, many in a contemplative mood. One of these is on dreams. Dreams come not from the gods or from the sky, but from ourselves. Whatever concerns us by day, is fulfilled — or not — by night. The warrior sees himself successful in battle, the lawyer trembles as he sees the judge. A woman writes to her lover, and a dog chases rabbits in his sleep. A sailor may save his capsized ship — or he may cling to it as he drowns. It is up to him.

The poem ends with the thought that "for the miserable, the wounds last all night long." This ending may seem a bit downbeat, but the message is clear, that we are ultimately the controllers of our own dreams.

The Latin text is that found in the Loeb edition, the work of Professor Buecheler. It also appears in Helen Waddell's Mediaeval Latin Lyrics (1930). Petronius did not belong to the mediaeval period in terms of chronology, but it was Waddell's point that the mediaeval spirit in poetry, a romantic quality, began much earlier. In her opinion, "Petronius is closer to the first Italian sonnet writers than he is to Horace."

Below, in Latin and English, is Petronius' poem on dreams. The translation, as usual, is my own.

Petronius Arbiter on Dreams

Somnia, quae mentes ludunt volitantibus umbris,
non delubra deum nec ab aethere numina mittunt,
sed sibi quisque facit. nam cum prostrata sopore
urget membra quies et mens sine pondere ludit
quidque luce fuit tenebris agit. oppida bello
qui quatit et flammis miserandas eruit urbes
tela videt versasque acies et funera regum
atque exundantes profuso sanguine campos.
qui causas orare solent, legesque forumque
et pavidi cernunt inclusum chorte tribunal.
condit avarus opes defossumque invenit aurum,
venator saltus canibus quatit. eripit undis
aut premit eversam periturus navita puppem.
scribit amatori meretrix, dat adultera munus;
et canis in somnis leporis vestigia lustrat.
in noctis spatium miserorum vulnera durant.

We dream about our waking concerns

Dreams that play with our minds with flitting shadows,
neither are they sent from temples of the gods nor do spirits send them from the air,
but each man makes his own dreams. For when repose
presses down on limbs prostrate with sleep, and the mind, weightless, plays,
whatever was by light, it does in darkness. He who batters towns
in war and overthrows in flames unhappy cities,
sees weapons and fleeing ranks and funerals of kings
and fields overflowing with gushing blood.
They who are accustomed to plead cases, see laws and the forum
and, terrified, observe the magistrates behind their attendant crowd.
The miser hides his wealth and finds buried gold,
the hunter shakes the forest with his dogs. The sailor rescues from the waves
his capsized ship — or about to perish, clings to it.
The courtesan writes to her lover; the adulteress gives her gift;
and the dog, in his sleep, chases the rabbit's tracks.
The wounds of the unhappy last all night long.


Selene

Bust of Selene on a sarcophagus, from Tomb D in Via Belluzzo, Rome, now at the Baths of Diocletian. Goddess of the Moon, who lights up the night, she wears a crescent on her head and carries a torch. The concerns of the day are rehashed at night. (Photo by Marie-Lan Nguyen (2006), from Wikimedia.)





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