Acting as a priest, the Trojan Helenus, now by a favourable reverse of fortunes the ruler of Achilles’s former kingdom, makes a curious prophecy that centres on a white sow with thirty piglets. Perhaps he had covered his head to officiate at the sacrifice, as was the later Roman custom. The Roman shown here is the Emperor Augustus, dressed as the Pontifex Maximus (High Priest). Hear the poem in Latin with an English translation here.
Ovid has finally succeeded with Corinna and seems rather pleased about it. Hear the poem and see the translation here.
Most of the Latin poetry on this site was written shortly either side of the year 1 CE. The oldest surviving manuscripts are of Virgil, but even these postdate him by at least 400 years and printing wasn’t invented until 1440 CE, so there would not be very many copies around as they couldn’t be mass-produced. How come we still have the poems at all?
For most Latin poets, the texts we rely on date from 1,000 years or more after their time and were copied by hand from successive versions also copied by hand, and so on back along the centuries. For the Greek predecessors of Horace and Catullus, it is even harder. We depend on quotations in ancient academic writers (who themselves survive only in later copies) and chance survivals found in huge dumps of papyrus bits or old and unstudied collections of archaeological material – where copies of two unknown poems by the poetess Sappho, who lived around 600 BCE, were recently discovered.
Transmission by hand-copying is obviously very precarious, so it is a bit of a miracle that the poems have survived (some authors didn’t). Nor is it very reliable: as material has been copied again and again over centuries, mistakes have not surprisingly crept in by a process of Chinese whispers. So you often can’t be sure that what is in a manuscript is what the poets wrote, sometimes because it simply doesn’t make sense and sometimes because there are different readings in different manuscripts. When there is more than one manuscript, some may come from a common earlier copy and some from different ones, and where there are variations between them, comparisons, choices and informed guesses have had to be made.
Then there is punctuation. I used to wonder why Roman poets used so many semicolons. The truth is that they didn’t: punctuation has been added by modern scholars to help us make sense of the Latin. The Romans did not go in for it much: there was a sign to indicate breaks between words, but even that wasn’t always used. Early Virgil manuscripts, from the fourth or fifth century, are written in continuous capitals without word breaks.
What does all this mean? That the route by which these poems have survived and been put into a form that you and I could read and understand is much less straightforward and more surprising than you might suppose, and that we are lucky enough to be able to enjoy them only because of the learning and labours of many generations of scholar-heroes, who to most of us are nameless and unsung.
Today’s new poem is an encounter between Aeneas and the Harpies, half-women, half savage birds. Things do not go well, and the Harpies give Aeneas an unwelcome prophecy.
Horace wrote today’s new poem as his sign-off from the Odes and his claim to lyric fame. Hear and follow it here.
Aeneas succeeds in rescuing his son and father, but cannot save his wife, Creusa. Hear the story in Latin and follow in English here.
