Overheard in the bar

“Death metal is the Pindar of modern music.”

(A Caucus and/or death metal fans: discuss.)

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More classical graffiti – from The Other Place

The Other Classics Library

Occasionally during the holidays I like to masquerade as a student of The Other Place by working in the Sackler Library.

A trip to the toilets during my most recent visit there provided evidence that members of The Other Classics Faculty have the same urge to create classics-themed graffiti as the inhabitants of G21

 

 

Continue reading “More classical graffiti – from The Other Place”

Weird and Wonderful Classics: Sheep

The great thing about Classics is that even the most boring of animals (which, let’s face it, sheep generally are) can turn out to be quite weird and wonderful after all. As a philologist, I’ve always been rather fond of Greek sheep, for two reasons:

One: they provide important evidence for pronunciation changes in the Greek language. If anyone ever asks you to prove that Ancient Greek was pronounced differently from Modern Greek, by far the easiest way to do it is to point out that Ancient Greek sheep go βῆ βῆ [bē ]:

ὁ δ’ ἠλίθιος ὥσπερ πρόβατον βῆ βῆ λέγων βαδίζει

“The silly man goes around going baa baa like a sheep” (Cratinus, fragment 43)

Unless your interlocutor can find a breed of sheep that makes a noise like vee vee, you can at this point be regarded as having won the argument.

(The wonderfully onomatopoeic but sadly uncommon term βληχητά, “bleaters” [blēkhēta], will also do the trick.)

Continue reading “Weird and Wonderful Classics: Sheep”

The Cambridge-Munich Exchange

Just before Christmas a group of Classicists spent a week in Munich as the first part of the annual Faculty exchange with the Institute of Classical Archaeology in Munich’s Ludwig-Maximilians-Universität. As the exchange’s official Res Gerendae reporter, I’m writing a bit about what the week was like, in the hopes of convincing everyone who hasn’t yet been on one to sign up for next year’s. Which I reckon should be pretty easy to do when I say that most of the time that wasn’t spent in Christmas markets drinking Glühwein (or beer) was spent in beer halls drinking beer (or Glühwein).


Weird and Wonderful Classics: The Octopus

A pale coloured stirrup jar with a swirly brown painted octopus.This is going to be a series in which, basically, I post (hopefully) entertaining stories/quotes about any theme I happen to feel like at the time.  If you’ve got a favourite funny story/quote – or have just always wanted to know what the Greeks and Romans said about, say, volcanoes, or mushrooms, or anything, really – feel free to suggest it for future posts! In the meantime – octopuses:*

The Mycenaeans seem to have been rather fond of octopuses, judging by the number of jars they painted them on – for example this stirrup jar in the Met

In fact, they liked them so much they even decorated furniture with them: one Linear B tablet lists

“a footstool inlaid with a man and a horse and an octopus and a griffin (or palm tree)** in ivory”

Move on a few hundred years, though, and for some reason Homer doesn’t talk about octopuses much; he’s a bit busy going on about stuff like heroism and tragic deaths. Clearly the Mycenaeans had a better sense of priorities. He does manage to get an octopus into a simile in the Odyssey, though, when Odysseus has been shipwrecked and is swimming for shore; he grabs a rock, but the waves tear him away:

ὡς δ᾽ὅτε πουλύποδος θαλάμης ἐξελκομένοιο
πρὸς κοτυληδονόφιν πυκιναὶ λάιγγες ἔχονται,
ὣς τοῦ πρὸς πέτρῃσι θρασειάων ἀπὸ χειρῶν
ῥινοὶ ἀπέδρυφθεν

Just as when an octopus is dragged from its lair, and pebbles cling to its suckers, so pieces of skin were torn from his strong hands on the rocks

The best thing about this simile is that it’s not Odysseus who’s clinging on like an octopus; it’s the bits of skin that are left sticking to the rocks like octopus-suckers. Which is a bizarre/grotesque enough image to make this one of my favourite Homeric similes ever.

The ‘Weird and Wonderful’ prize, however, has to go to Pliny the Elder, who tells the story of an octopus which used to climb out of the sea and into the fish-pickling tubs on the shore, and eat all the fish. To stop it, the fish-picklers built a fence around the tubs – which the octopus promptly climbed over with the aid of a handy tree. Eventually they set a pack of dogs on it, but the fight was pretty much going the octopus’ way until the watchmen finally finished it off with their spears. According to Pliny, it weighed 700 pounds, and its tentacles were 30 feet in length.

A brown octopus sitting in a fir tree.I’m not entirely sure why a 700-pound, 30-foot long octopus needed a tree to get past a fence, but perhaps it felt a more inventive method than simply squashing the fence was needed to ensure its place in the (natural) history books. Another possibility is that this is the first recorded sighting of a Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus, in which case this might provide evidence of a Mediterranean origin for this (unfortunately poorly-understood) species.

* The Greek and Latin words πολύπους and polypus can actually refer to squid and cuttlefish as well. I’m sticking with ‘octopus’ since it’s more convenient than ‘unspecified marine animal with tentacles’.

** You get this kind of thing a lot reading Linear B. At least it gives us Mycenologists plenty to argue about.

Overheard in the Common Room

“Quick! Have an intellectual Classics discussion so we can blog about it!”

(I think this really ought to be the new RG motto)

Post your own ‘Overheard in the Common Room’ (or in the faculty/street/wherever) quotes in the comments! If I overhear enough myself, I’ll make this a regular series – users of the grad common room, you have been warned/issued with a challenge…