Hercules, The Dynamic City on the Bay

I read in this morning’s edition of the Halifax Chronicle Herald that a Rembrandt drawing, stolen from a San Francisco hotel, had been recovered from a church near Hercules, California. Hercules? I did a quick search to find out whence Hercules, CA received its name and was amused to discover that Hercules, CA is a town founded by the California Powder Works, makers of explosives; apparently one of its products was called Hercules, presumably because it was as effective as the demi-god Hercules (also known as Heracles in Greek mythology) at blasting things apart. Remembering how Hercules cleaned the filthy Augean stables by diverting two rivers to flow through the building, I guess Hercules is a good brand name for dynamite.

Ghosts from the Past

Walking my dog Buddy along the road in rural Nova Scotia, I noticed wild cranberries and blueberries growing and then I saw Indian pipes, a plant first identified for me by my father when I was a child. I see them rarely, but after a little research discovered that they do occur regularly in Nova Scotia woods. The scientific classification for this odd plant is monotropa uniflora, a wonderful combination of both Greek and Latin roots. Greek mono is one, and tropa means a turning; Latin uni is one, and flora is flowered. These two words describe the appearance of the little plant, each stalk of which contains a single, down-turned flower. The common names for this plant are a little frightening, and include ghost flower and corpse plant. Almost any article you read about Indian pipes is FULL of scientific terminology derived from Greek and Latin. Here is one from the U.S. Forest Service.

Judging Royalty

Over the weekend I read in Realm magazine an article about the upcoming Royal Wedding, and I was amused to learn that a commentator on royalty is named Dickie Arbiter. In Latin the noun arbiter, arbitrī m. judge can be found in a phrase which has also passed into English; arbiter bibendi is the judge of the drinking, i.e., the person who takes charge at a drinking party. Also an arbiter elegantiae is the judge of elegance, the person who determines acceptable or witty behavior among a group of people. In Roman history Petronius Arbiter is taken to be a member of the court of the Emperor Nero. Attributed to Petronius is a satirical work, an early Roman novel, called Satyricon. One of the sections of this work is called Cena Trimalchionis, and because of its portrait of a wealthy, self-made man, parts of this section are often included in school textbooks.

I do not know whether Dickie Arbiter was born with his name or he acquired it, but it is fun to know the Latin meaning of his name.

Numbers and Remembering

On Sunday at a gas station in Brewster, NY I saw a license plate with the letters II IXXI, and I pondered a little, because I did not immediately derive sense from this combination of letters. When I asked my students if they had any thoughts, after I suggested 2 9/11, one offered that the II could be a representation of the Twin Towers. On my way home this afternoon I saw another license plate that read IXXI-USA, and I now think my student was probably correct; I am always amazed at how much information we can abbreviate in the eight spaces of most license plates.

Roman numerals were on my mind, because I had put a question in the Miscellany category of a Latin 2 Jeopardy game asking how a Roman would express 1776. My students temporarily forgot some of the higher Roman numerals, so I offer here a mnemonic sentence that I have encountered in a few different sources: If Victor's Xray Looks Clear, Don't Medicate. The letters I, V, X, L, C, D, M are the basic Roman numerals standing for one (I), five (V), ten (X), fifty (L), one hundred (C), five hundred (D), and one thousand (M). So 1776 would be MDCCLXXVI, and you can see these numbers on the back of an American one dollar bill.

Electrifying Espresso

Glancing through the April 2011 issue of Unfiltered, the magazine of the Scotch Malt Whisky Society, I noticed in a photo some kind of machine with the trade name Elektra. Curious to find out both what the machine was and why it had that name, I started a quick search online, but could find nothing having to do with bottling or distilling. In a second perusal of the photo, I noticed coffee cups on top of the machine and the word ITALY above the Elektra logo, so I correctly deduced an espresso machine. Here you can find the history not only of the Elektra espresso machines but also of the Treviso area in Italy where the company began. In mythology Elektra was the daughter of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra; she helps her brother Orestes bring about the death of both their mother and her lover, Aigisthus.

Things Typographical

While searching online for information about the pilcrow, the paragraph mark with an interesting history based in Latin, I also found information about a font that is destined for the Museum of Modern Art. This font is called Mercury, who was the ancient Roman messenger god; click on CHARACTERS (in the preceding link) and you can see all its beautiful letters and symbols. Also at the Hoefler and Frere-Jones website, you can read about Mercury going to the Museum of Modern Art, and you can find an announcement of a tour being offered in Italy, home to so many famous typographers.

The pilcrow, the actual paragraph symbol, comes from the Latin word capitulum meaning “chapter.” You can read more about the pilcrow at many websites, but I enjoyed this article (at Hoefler and Frere-Jones) with its newly-designed pilcrows.

Vergil in NYC, 2011

Earlier today my colleague sent me an article on the September 11^th Museum in New York City. Clearly visible in the photograph accompanying the article is an English translation of a line from Book 9 of Vergil’s Aeneid. I had not heard that this quotation was being included, but it is very moving. Here are the Latin lines and a translation:

Aeneid IX.446-449

Fortunati ambo! si quid mea carmina possunt,

nulla dies umquam memori vos eximet aevo,

dum domus Aeneae Capitoli immobile saxum

accolet imperiumque pater Romanus habebit.

Happy pair! If my poetry has the power,

while the House of Aeneas lives beside the Capitol’s

immobile stone, and a Roman leader rules the Empire,

no day will raze you from time’s memory.

Translated by A. S. Kline.