236 out of 410 days: Alliteration and Translation



Tatius, legendary king of the Sabines and co-regent at Rome for 5 years with Romulus, is used by two moneyers in the Republic as an obverse type.  Tatius appear in some of the earliest Latin literature in a famously alliterative line of Ennius:

O Tite, tute, Tati, tibi tanta, tyranne, tulisti

What a mouthful!

The translations too often depend on what people think the context is:

By yourself, Titus Tatius the tyrant, you took those terrible troubles.

Warmington in the Loeb clearly assumes a negative context (above).  This reading has been endorsed again by a recent introductory essay on Ennius.  [Not bad little introduction to his alliterative tendencies there too.]  By contrast Elliott very recently has swung out to an opposite positive direction:

You yourself, Titus Tatius, earned yourself so great a reward.

I rather like this more neutral rendering (It is widely quoted thus (an example), I’ve not bothered tracking down who the original translator is):

O Titus Tatius, Tyrant, what great things you have brought upon yourself!

Reading Ennius as having a negative portrayal of Tatius makes it more difficult to explain his presence on coins.  The desire to commemorate him on the state coinage pre-supposes a positive legacy.  

The coin, I suppose, evokes something closer to the sentiments of this line of Propertius:

qui quaerit Tatium veterem durosque Sabinos,

hic posuit nostra nuper in urbe pedem.


He’s only lately set foot in this city who asks for the ancient Tatius or the strict Sabine. 

Propertius says chaste and modest girls might existed in the past but that’s not how this are now or appear to be in the various mythological allusions.

It seems that Tatius has a reputation (along with his fellow sabines) as a guarantor of moral rectitude, perhaps an allusion to his (their) punishment of Tarpeia?

Reverse of RRC 344/2b. 1987.26.59


For smart things about Sabines on Coins, see Farney.

162 out of 410 days: Translation and ‘Modern’ Prejudices

as in many particulars the desire of the multitude and the whim of the people were at variance with the interests of the republic

That is Yonge’s 1891 translation of a clause of chapter 103 of Cicero’s Pro Sestio.  Here is the Latin:

cum multis in rebus multitudinis studium aut populi commodum ab utilitate rei publicae discrepabat

The problem is commodum.  Cicero was a cranky old fart who had no time for the scum of Romulus’ cesspit, BUT he does not here speak of their whims.  [He’ll get to that topic just a few lines later.]  The English connotations of whims include: trivial matters not well thought out of perhaps only fleeting relevance.  That just isn’t how commodum is connoted in Latin.  It means something good and advantageous perhaps arriving at just the right moment.   It is very closely related in meaning to the next noun in Cicero’s passage “utilitate”.  Cicero’s point isn’t that the people don’t know what’s good for them.  It’s that what is good for the people is not good for the state.  It separates the identity of the people from the state.  That’s a pretty important idea to get across in the translation.  Yonge brings his own assumptions about the poor and their relationship to the upper classes to his reading of Cicero and thus sees implications that just aren’t there in the original.  

Now thanks to the public domain.  Many (most?!) readers of Cicero in translation will take Yonge’s prejudices for Cicero’s.

153 out of 410 days: Translating Bread and Circuses

In my previous post on bread and circuses, I used a translation by Kline.  I admire very much Kline’s work making contemporary translations of Latin poetry available on the internet for non commercial use.  Poetry translations suffers perhaps most of all when we default to works that have aged into the public domain. Open source is the ethic way forward.  All that said as I thought about using it in my chapter I found myself concerned about pieces of the Latin not reflected in that translation.  Translation is very much interpretation, especially with such a value laden text as Juvenal’s 10th Satire!  Here are parallel sections of Kline and a much earlier translator Ramsey:

But what of the Roman Mob? They follow Fortune, as always, and hate whoever she condemns. … They shed their sense of responsibility long ago, when they lost their votes, and the bribes; the mob that used to grant power, high office, the legions, everything, curtails its desires, and reveals its anxiety for two things only, Bread and circuses. ‘I hear that many will perish.’ ‘No doubt, The furnace is huge.’


And what does the mob of Remus say? It follows fortune, as it always does, and rails against the condemned. … Now that no one buys our votes, the public has long since cast off its cares; the people that once bestowed commands, consulships, legions and all else, now meddles no more and longs eagerly for just two things—-Bread and Games!  “I hear that many are to perish.”—-“No doubt of it; there is a big furnace ready.”

I’ve decided there are a few places I can’t really live with either translation given my sense of the key portions of the Latin. Here’s the Latin:

                                                                  … sed quid

turba Remi? sequitur fortunam, ut semper, et odit

damnatos. idem populus, si Nortia Tusco

fauisset, si oppressa foret secura senectus

principis, hac ipsa Seianum diceret hora

Augustum. iam pridem, ex quo suffragia nulli

uendimus, effudit curas; nam qui dabat olim

imperium, fasces, legiones, omnia, nunc se

continet atque duas tantum res anxius optat,

panem et circenses. ‘perituros audio multos.’

‘nil dubium, magna est fornacula.’ 

So right now my own version is looking something like this:

But what of the mob of Remus? It follows fortune, as always, and hates the damned … No longer do we sell votes.  Responsibilities drain away.  Those who used to grant imperium, fasces, legions, everything, now restrain themselves, hoping all the more anxiously for two things: bread and circuses. ‘Many will perish, I hear.’ ‘No doubt, the furnace is huge.’  (Sat. 10.73-82)

The crowd being associated with Remus the murdered brother of Romulus needs to be preserved.  But perhaps most critical is the 1st person personal plural active verb “to sell”.  Juvenal gives agency to the sellers of their votes and includes himself and his reader in that group.  I shy away from reiterating ‘mob’ or ‘crowd’ as the subject of the later 3rd person singular verbs because in the sentence I’m cutting Juvenal uses idem populus  ‘the same people’ to gloss turba; populus is a much less negative terms and might as easily be rendered ‘citizen body’.  Notice especially how the past concerns of “imperium, fasces, legions and everything” are contrasted with “bread and circuses”.  The former evokes not just magisterial offices but particularly foreign policy, the later is standing for domestic affairs, the internal condition of the state.  I particularly like the word order of the last two snippets of direct discourse, but see no fluid way to reflect that in the translation.

Obviously, in places my rending is no more literally reflective of vocabulary and grammar than the other two, but few readable translations are.