Thinking about Latin translations

I spent the weekend thinking about the points raised in the Conversation article re the translation of Amanda Gorman's work from the perspective of somebody translating Latin and reading regularly in five European languages. First of all, I must have watched Amanda Gorman's performance of "The Hill We Climb" on Capitol Hill nearly a dozen times, and I still discover new levels of nuances and metaphor and sheer powerful wordcraft and have come to realise that on many levels it is untranslatable and thus I do not envy any translator the task of guiding as much as possible of this poem into the context of a different language and culture.

But when considering the wider context of the discussion currently conducted which started with this poem, I came to realise that it actually raises queries for my own praxis of translating, reading and understanding the literature of a different culture. While I, like any translator and reader of multiple languages freely acknowledge that any translation loses the connotations that exist when you read a particular piece in its original language (the famous insinuation, puns and double-entendres that can make so many texts so colourful are just the beginning), I have long since also noticed that a common language is no guarantee for the same text perception. How does the saying go about the US and the UK? "Two countries divided by a common language", and the same holds true for much of Spanish literature whose cultural background differs so very much between South America and Northern Spain to give just one other example. So, the first point I would like to make is that even if we match the translator as closely as possible to the experiences of the original writer there will still be a cultural gap to bridge.

My second concern is one that I discuss quite a lot with my advanced Latin students: How do you reconstruct the cultural experience of a lost civilisation? There is nobody alive today whose cultural experience would be even remotely similar to that of Caesar or Cicero, or for that matter Boethius or Gerald of Wales, and on the whole, this is probably a good thing, as it proves that history does not really repeat itself.

But does that mean that any of these old texts can only be translated by upper-class males with a strong educational background in rhetoric and quite often a political and/or legal career? Can Horace only be translated by a bon vivant with an incipient alcohol problem and a penchant for hobnobbing with the elite? Does Gerald of Wales only really make sense if translated by a local from Swansea who was disappointed in his attempts to become Bishop of St.David's and had a long experience of working in the cabinet office? The list could go on, but I think I made my point.

In all of these cases, there is a strong case to be made that the experience cannot be duplicated, and quite frankly probably shouldn't at least in some cases, but that by really engaging with the text (not just correctly parsing 10 lines of Cicero while demonstrating a working knowledge of Anglo-Saxon expletives), we may not be able to reproduce all of the original intent, but we may be able to come to understand certain aspects of their writing and thus their thinking and by extension their character a tiny bit better. In a way as a way of learning to listen to somebody you might learn to be a friend, not by belittling their experience, but by trying to find common ground and isn't that why we learn languages?

Review: A.Blackwell, M.Goldberg, F.Hunter Scotland's Early Silver (Edinburgh 2018)

Earlier in the year, the National Museum of Scotland curated the amazing "Scotland's Early Silver" exhibition. Beautifully presented it attracted a lot of visitors and for those who wanted more information, an accompanying book was produced.

Those of you familiar with the books published by the National Museum of Scotland will know that they are beautifully produced, heavily illustrated with numerous images of perfectly lit and presented objects, and this is no different. Just for that, it made for a good memento of the exhibition.

The text of the book is, however, worthwhile as well. It describes the use of silver in Scotland from the arrival of the Romans (and at the same time the arrival of silver as a material) to the settling of the Vikings and their import of large amounts of silver from abroad. In 175 pages it traces how the Roman silver coins and vessels first arrived in Scotland as diplomatic 'gifts', only to be transformed in the coming centuries into new forms of objects, first into hacksilver, and later into new objects, particularly of personal adornment or symbols of power. What makes this story intriguing is that this is not just a dry listing of objects made of Roman silver, but the careful tracking of changes in use and meaning over the centuries. The items used from the Museum's own collection span the entire history of archaeological research in Scotland, from the antiquarian finds such as the Norrie's Law hoard to the coin hoards from Fraser Hunter's Birnie excavations to the recent acquisition of treasures such as the Galloway hoard, which was found in 2014 and formed last year the object of a small exhibition in the Museum as well as a very successful fundraising campaign to acquire the hoard for the Museum and allow further study and thus it follows not only the change of use of the material but also the equally fascinating history of interpretation of these objects and the ways they are studied.

The text is written in a very engaging style and clearly designed for the average educated and adult visitor to the National Museums, but this is not used as an excuse to dumb down, and academics will find the book equally rewarding. In many ways, the book is a great example of the research encouraged over the last decades by the First Millenium Study Group, which set out to study the First Millenium AD without the barriers of periodisation created by earlier periods. So instead of Romans, Migration Period, Picts, Celtic or Anglo-Saxon and Vikings, here the continuations from one period to another are highlighted and the way in which developments can run parallel and influence each other.

Those familiar with Fraser Hunter's work on the Romans and the Iron Age in Scotland will find a lot they may have encountered before, not least in his book on the Traprain Law Treasure, while Alice Blackwell's work in the Museum as part of the Glenmorangie research project on Early Medieval Scotland is equally well known amongst scholars of the period, as is Martin Goldberg's work for the Viking period. The beauty of this book is to see their work brought together to create a coherent narrative covering 1000 years and as such I can only recommend it to everybody.

Book:
A.Blackwell, M.Goldberg, F.Hunter Scotland's Early Silver. Transforming Roman Pay-offs to Pictish Treasures (Edinburgh 2018), 

Postcards from your students...

After teaching a course in the spring a few of my students are currently brightening up my days by sending me email postcards of Latin inscriptions that they have seen on their travels, usually the ones that don't fit the patterns of the Western inscriptions that we covered in the course.

The most fun, came a couple of weeks ago from Ulpiana in the Kosovo:

Here is the text and a rough translation: 

GRAVESTONE AT ULPIANA (NEAR GRACANICA, KOSOVO)

 DM / AELIA   CLEMENTILLA / VIXIT * AN * XVII / SVMME * INTECRTATIS / FEMINAE / AVREL(ius) * MAIOR * EX PRO / TECTORIBUS * DIVINI / LATERIS * CONIVCI /OBSEQUENTISI /MAE * POSVIT

 TO THE SPIRITS OF THE DEPARTED

  AELIA CLEMENTILLA, WHO LIVED 17 YEARS  A WOMAN OF THE MOST FLAWLESS

 CHARACTER  AURELIUS MAIOR FORMER PERSONAL BODYGUARD  OF THE EMPEROR SET  THIS UP FOR HIS MOST  OBEDIENT WIFE.

At first I thought, why would they send me this, it is just one of a large number of graves stones to women that died too young and were mourned by their husbands in extravagant terms, nothing we had not covered in the course in some detail. - And then I looked at the husband and was intrigued, so what does a Romanist on research leave do under these circumstances? She starts sniffing around (well a bit anyway), so here are my initial thoughts (and if you have any further information about this stone or the two people mentioned, please let me know, especially as I am currently without access to CIL.

Aelia Clementilla was apparently from a Roman family, that had citizenship since the time of Hadrian, and while it might have been awarded as part of Hadrian's visit to the area, there is enough time passed (see below) that any number of other scenarios have led to the family living in Ulpiana. but there is, of course, no way of proving it. She would almost definitely have been a member of the elite,  As a Roman lady, you would expect her to marry somewhere around the age of 12-14, so her death at the age of 17, would mean that she was married for a short time. The deaths at that time are frequently due to childbirth.

Research into funerary commemoration has shown that she belongs to the age group that can expect to receive the most lavish praise for her womanly qualities on her gravestone and "SUMMAE INTECR(i)TATIS FEMINAE (watch out for the ligature/mistake)" is thus, if not expected, then at least not surprising, nor is the appellation of a "very obedient wife" in the last two rows. 

The stone that is used and the design of the gravestone is very conservative. You find similar stones like that in Dalmatia and Pannonia from the first century AD onwards and it is possible that the design was kept in use as a way of stressing the Roman connections of the family involved, but frankly you may also just find yourself with a stone mason, that could only produce a limited amount of patterns. Her hairstyle, often a good dating indicator is non-committal: a central parting and wavy hair can be found from the Augustan period onwards, so we don't get that much more information about the date of the stone from the image. 

It would not have surprised me, however, if the stone had been reused, but the picture that the student provided did not seem to show any evidence of recutting. 

So, so far we are left with a stone to a young woman that could have been dedicated from the reign of Hadrian onwards and possibly until the early fourth century. 

But, this is where the information about the husband adds a lot of detail. 
He is called Aurelius Maior. No praenomen, so this is quite likely to be a late second or third century stone rather than an early second century stone. The Aurelius would support this, as it suggests that his family obtained Roman citizenship during the reign of Marcus Aurelius or possibly slightly later. So we are after 161 and still before the early fourth century. 

But he describes himself as "ex protectoribus divini lateris". That is actually a quite unusual title. 

The 'Protectores divini lateris' were people closely associated with the emperor, especially the emperor Gallienus. 'Protectores' (without further qualifications) appear in the third century (probably also under Gallienus, but possibly earlier), originally as a new title for the legionary commanders and tribunes that were not senatores, but equestrians, but by the end of the  third century 'protector' had become a title to single out centurions awaiting promotion to higher ranks, such as unit commanders.

 

The protectores divini Lateris became under Gallienus a separate body with this group of equestrian officers. Austin and Rankov in their Exploratio book describe them as "a junior staff... to supplement the senior officers in his consilium"(p.212). This would make Aurelius Maior one of a very select group of men, which you would expect to find in the entourage of the emperor, advising him in matters of warfare or at least available to fulfil his special missions. Definitely, not the average third-century soldier, and not even the average bodyguard, despite the literal meaning of the title. it allows us to date the inscription to the reign of Gallienus or shortly thereafter, but this close association with the emperor does not explain his association with Ulpiana. 

When he set up the gravestone to his wife, Aurelius Maior described himself as ex protectoribus, this could just mean 'one of the ...", but that would only make sense, if this was associated with Gallienus' presence in the area, which is possible in the context of the events of 268, Gallienus' campaign of the Goths or Aureolus' uprising in Milan, shortly after. Theoretically, it could also be associated with Aureolus' campaign against the Marciani in 260/1. In which case, there is no need to assume that Aurelius Maior or Aelia Clementilla had any personal connections to Ulpiana. However, ex-protectoribus may suggest that he was retired from active service and had come to Ulpiana for private reasons, what these were, we can only guess at. 

Visiting Rodin in the British Museum

."Apparently, as the hot summer progresses  more and more people are visiting museums, as they are more likely to have air conditioning.”

To judge from the popularity of the British Museum the day I visited this cannot have been far off, or it might just be that the last two weeks before the end of the school year are a fantastic time for the traditional school trip.

The British Museum is at the moment running three exhibitions side by side.

In order of size:

“The past is present - becoming Egyptian in the 20th century”

A small collection of Egyptian material in Room 3 (the one next to the entrance) on how Egypt
uses the imagery of Ancient Egypt in its own modern culture. It is an eclectic collection of material
from Magazines of the 1950s and 60s to film clips via government publications and the emblem of the
Banque Misr, the first bank owned and managed by Egyptians in Egypt in the 20th century. The idea is
not bad, but somehow it felt a bit like an afterthought, as if somebody suddenly realised that there
should be something in that room, but was working with a very small budget and the result is a bit too
much local community museum and too little British Museum despite being part of the
"Modern Egypt project".

The same cannot be said of the other two exhibitions: The second exhibition in Room 5 (behind the shop at the entrance and off the Egyptian Hall or for aficionados "where the academic bookshop used to be") is “Charmed Lives in Greece - Ghika, Craxton, Leigh Fermor”. It traces the results of the friendship of these three artists (two painters and one writer) and their wives (some of whom provided some of the photographs shown in the exhibition) and their life in three very different parts of Greece: Hydra, Kardamyli on the Southern Peloponnese, Chania on Crete and finally Corfu. The large distances make it clear, that this is no artists' colony in the traditional sense.
But the artwork on display is a wonderful look back to the art of the second half of the twentieth
century in Greece and the way in which traditional architecture, art and most of all the landscape and
people influenced the work of all three and how they, in turn, influenced and supported each other
during their careers. Those who have visited the Benaki Museum in Athens will recognise some of the
paintings, but it is very informative to see them in the context of the loans from the Craxton Estate and
the other loans that the British Museum has been able to bring together.

The exhibition continues to the 15th July and if you have not seen it yet, I would very much recommend it.

The third exhibition and frankly the reason why I had come to the British Museum, is “Rodin and the art of ancient Greece”. I tend to leave my exhibition visits usually to the latter half of their run, by then the hype has
cooled down somewhat, and what I lose by not being able to contribute to dinner conversations is easily
made up by having more space to admire the items on display. Rodin was no difference. The exhibition
has been beautifully laid out, opening the exhibition space to the outside light and without the floor to
ceiling temporary walls that characterised earlier exhibitions. The sculptures are thus able to ‘breathe’
and even more work with each other, by allowing vistas across the room and the chance of looking back
to items displayed earlier in the show.

The stated theme to explore the extent to which Rodin was influenced by the art of the Parthenon and
the art of Greece and Rome, in general, is well developed and explained, but a second theme runs
alongside this: Rodin’s Gate of Hell as a central point of his sculpture career, so there are several
narrative lines in the exhibition and the large open spaces allow you to choose, which line to follow.

The exhibition has thus a very different feel to many prior British Museum exhibitions which often major
in dramatic lighting and music effects for amazing archaeological finds. My fingers wished I had brought
my sketchbook (I am not sure the British Museum or the other visitors would have appreciated that quite
so much), but there seemed to be no restrictions on taking mobile phone pictures on the day I visited so
I might get to do my sketching from the snaps.

A large amount of natural light and artificial lighting imitating/enhancing the natural light offers a
wonderful way of exploring both the antique and modern sculptures and shows that Rodin’s surface
work actually can already be seen in old statuary, especially if it is fragmented and not over-restored, like
much of Rodin's own collection of Classical remains was.

The displays allow you to draw wonderful comparisons and also to appreciate what Rodin himself
brought to the sculptures, making them so memorable. By the time the visitor is confronted with the
“Burghers of Calais” and Rilke’s descriptions of them, there is a new level at which one can appreciate the artwork, and the origins of some of the ways Rodin chose to the execute this group.

One of the beauties of this exhibition is the way in which it gives you the freedom to explore. Whether
you just want to get those Rodin sculptures of your bucket list/exam prep, whether you were following
the laid-out course of learning of the exhibition or whether you decide to explore details of your own
choosing, there is a lot to look at and appreciate which goes far beyond the stated 'learning outcome',
as the comments of the various visitors showed.

This exhibition is still on until July 29th and is well worth the entrance fee of £17, I might even be back myself.

Glenesk 2018-2023 - Why a Roman research project is interested in a rural Scottish glen.

The Glen

The glen is partially part of the Cairngorms and even outside the National Park sports some amazing landscape views and is one of the few areas in Britain where you can see White-tailed eagles and adders (we can confirm sightings for both), so we do not expect to get permission to conduct invasive fieldwork from the landowners or from Historic Environment Scotland. However, the glen is full of archaeological sites, many of which have not been documented. In addition, from the 15th century onwards there is written evidence on the land use and settlement in the glen in the archives (more of that another time), a lot of which can be matched up to the archaeological record.
We thus have the opportunity of reconstructing and providing dates for a number of the sites in the valley without having to revert to excavations in the first place.

Why this glen?


Matching the historic settlement with landowner's records in Scotland is nothing new and has been done several times, especially in Western Scotland. The survey best known to non-specialists is probably E.M. MacArthur's work on Iona. So why repeat it for what is today a very rural glen with less than 800 inhabitants?

Because this has not always been the case.

Until the Panmure family restructured the glen and turned it into a deer park in the 1850s and thus created the majestic Highland solitude that attracted Queen Victoria in the 1860s, this glen was the centre of a substantial mining industry, that extracted iron, copper, lead and silver (galena), as well as gold and other metals from at least the 15th century.

In Scotland iron mining and smelting is attested from 1124 and 1127 for Dunfermline and later in charters for Pluscarden Abbey for 1263, as well as in the charters of Holyrood, and in rent records of the Earl of Sutherland and Monteith.

The historical records in Glenesk speak of mining activity from the mid 15th century to the 1830s, but the close association of so many metals in such close proximity sets Glenesk apart, as does the fact that its later history as a rural community and deer park, left much of this industrial landscape intact.

We are, therefore, dealing with an industrial landscape that has not been destroyed by post-industrial activity or more modern building.

So why would the Roman Gask Project want to study an early modern industrial landscape? 

Because there are indications that the exploitation of the ore deposits may have started much earlier than the historical records suggest.

The centre of the valley is occupied by the Hill of Rowan, which is surrounded by a large cairn field, which produced in the 19th century numerous finds of the Neolithic and Bronze age, including jet and non-localaxes, suggesting that the local population was in contact with the area outside the glen.

In addition, there is a prehistoric small fort in the grounds of Edzell Castle in the mouth of the glen, but more importantly the exit of the glen is within easy reach of the large hillforts of the White and Brown Cathertun as well as the Roman fort of Stracathro and the marching camps of Stracathro and Keithock. In addition, there is a series of medieval castles (including the Old Castle of Edzell) within easy distance of the glen. The Cathertuns stand out for their considerable size in the context of the local Iron Age, with little so far to explain, what may have been the source of the wealth and power, that could have caused the creation of this power centre.


However, the presence of considerable metal deposits in the glen may have attracted the attention of both the Iron Age and the Romans, who placed three further forts along the Gask Frontier in close proximity of galena and other ore deposits.

While it is unlikely, that the Romans ever found the time during their brief presence in the Flavian period to establish a large-scale industry in the area, it is quite likely, that some evidence of the Iron Age activity survives and the interest of the Roman Gask Project is to establish, whether this exploitation may have added to the Roman interest in the area. 

More information on the Roman Gask Project can be found on our website: www.theromangaskproject.org and on our Facebook site (https://www.facebook.com/RomanGaskProject/)

Piran - the Roman sites under the medieval town and the modern hotels

Piran, Slovenia

It might seem churlish if you are in Piran a beautiful medieval/early modern town on the Slovenian coast, to ignore all the wonderful architecture and beautiful houses, as well as the fantastically preserved late medieval city wall to look for Roman remains. But the Piran peninsula forms the southernmost tip of the bay of Triest and lies more or less opposite Roman Aquileia and its late-Roman, early medieval successor Grado.

We know from historical sources that by the 933 a Byzantine castrum existed at Piran and the town legend that it was founded by refugees from Aquileia underlines the perceived links to the most important trading centre of the Northern Adriatic.

But what is the actual evidence for Roman presence in Piran?
A good start is the local Museum of the Sea. Conveniently close to the harbour in the Gabrielli Palace, it has a nice collection of some of the archaeological material found between Koper/Capodistria and the Bay of Piran. As their distribution map shows, there are several sites in the area that have produced Roman material, often in the form of amphora kilns, which suggests that the bay may have been home to at least Roman villa estate during the Roman period. These Istrian villa sites have been identified at a number of coastal sites along the Western Adriatic coastline, The site on Verige Bay on Brijuni in Croatia is probably the best known of these. While they no doubt formed attractive (summer) residences, the large number of production buildings associated with them shows that they actually served an important economic function as well, using their coastal location to allow for easy transport of their agricultural products. 

Piran, Museum of the Sea, distribution of Archaeological sites around Piran, also indicated are the salt flats. 

But what do we know of the residents of Piran itself? The town has produced some Roman gravestone, whose style is very similar to those in Aquileja museum, mentioning Roman citizens and freedmen. 

Piran, Museum of the Sea, Roman Gravestone.

Of more interest is the second stone that can be found with a bit of searching in the old city, close to the old Jewish quarter:

Piran, Roman gravestone with groma

As is easily apparent the stone was reused in later period but the images appear to show two armillae and underneath it a square with a central rod, which is linked to the corners of the square, this is one of the few ancient depictions of a groma that I am aware of. A groma is a survey instrument that allows for the speedy lay-out of straight lines and right angles on building sites and formed one of the common tools when laying out a Roman camp or town. Its presence on a gravestone in place, for which no military is known, is unusual and the stone should be better known. 

 

But are there any structural remains in Piran itself of the Roman period? For this, we have to climb to the top of the hill to the cathedral of St.George. The church sits on top of a steep cliff with excellent views over the bay of the Triest and towards the headland on the opposite side of the bay of Piran and on a clear day, the Alps, Triest and much of the northern Adriatic coast are clearly visible. The current church was built during the Venetian period (as the Campanile clearly suggests) but sits on much older roots. The site has produced some beautiful Longobardic and Romanesque sculpture (of which more in a different post), but underneath it all are some impressive remains. 

Piran, St. George's church. The Roman excavations

The remains appear to date to the second century AD, and 'can be identified as the remains of a pagan temple', although this and the identification of the pre-Roman remains behind it remain very tentative. The association appears to stems from antiquarian statements on the presence of an ancient temple, although what evidence they relied on, is equally problematic, especially as ancient maps and directories like the Tabula Peutingeriana or the Itinerarium Antonini do not appear to list the town.
The surviving evidence does suggest good quality masonry and thus certainly more than a passing fisher hut. But if this represents a temple or a light house, such as those known from Spain, Dover or Boulogne (not to mention Alexandria), has to remain open at the current time.
To those visiting Piran, I would very much recommend making the time to see the remains in the museum and under St. George. It was certainly an afternoon well spent (and at least partially fuelled by the excellent ice cream available in the town). :-)