400 lines each evening??

Is this credible?

I’m looking at a New Yorker article which says that Matt Patterson while an undergraduate classics major at Columbia University " every night . . . translated four hundred lines of ancient Greek and Latin." (p. 22, July 24, 2017, in article by Peter Hessler, “Follow the Leader”.)

Because I’m not doing 400 lines per day of Latin by a long shot, I’m having trouble overcoming skepticism about this claim, especially since the article mentions no earlier study of Greek and Latin by this person.

But, because I’m self-taught, I’ve had no face-to-face contact with other Latin students since about 1954, and I have not been striving for speed, I may be a poor judge.

The article apparently says “translated.” If that means “wrote out an English translation,” that seems a bit implausible, and also, for that matter, not particularly useful. The goal (at least my goal) is not to translate, but to read fluently with comprehension and without translating. But if “translated” is loose language for “read with comprehension,” 400 lines of Vergil’s Aeneid or Ovid’s Metamorphoses or Homer a night is not implausible. (You need to read metrically, however, aloud or mentally. You can cover more ground if you read metrically.)

Other texts, however, take more time. Even Vergil’s Georgics, for example, have many obscure and technical words that I for one need to look up, despite having read through several times. 400 lines of Pindar or Propertius a night – forget about it. (We’re just measuring verse here.) Propertius, for example, is full of obscurities because the transmitted text is in atrocious shape. With almost every verse, you need to consider a raft of variants, conjectures, and proposed transpositions, in order to make any sense of the text, and even then, you’re often not quite sure whether you’ve got it right.

And you wouldn’t want to read 400 lines of Horace’s Odes or Vergil’s Georgics a night: texts such as those need to be read slowly (but, again, metrically) if you want to extract the most out of them because every syllable is pregnant with meaning. That’s true of the Aeneid, too, of course, but much of the Aeneid can be read more rapidly, in my experience.

In my own experience, the texts you’ve been reading – Horace’s Satires – are very difficult, so don’t be discouraged. For one thing, they require a substantial amount of extraneous knowledge that you need to find in commentaries. The compression of thought and the concomitant use of allusion to achieve the compression contribute to the difficulty. I personally would not expect to be able to read 400 lines of Horace’s Satires in an evening’s sitting. I doubt the subject of the New Yorker article would be able to, either.

If I could just add a bit to Hylander’s excellent response, it does really depend on whom you are reading. Think about English texts – they are certainly not all created equal in terms of difficulty, and some we can read very rapidly, others take more time. Have you ever read through some dense English prose or some really complicated poetry and wondered what you just read, and then had to go back over it, maybe several times until you get it? Why should it be any different in Latin? There is a reason intermediate classes tend to use narrative prose such as Caesar or Nepos or Eutropius. Not only does it tend to be stylistically easier than other genres, but it’s generally easier for the student to follow the context, which makes comprehension easier. I personally gave up worrying a long time ago about how much I could read at one sitting, and just concentrated on enjoying the text. It makes the whole experience quite a bit more pleasant… :slight_smile:

Many thanks to Barry and Hylander for the replies. I also took it for granted that the article by “translate” actually meant “read with fair comprehension”.

This 400-lines thing didn’t discourage me, because I’m not taking courses, and have never, since high school, taken any courses in Latin. I don’t compare myself with a college student, because that life is organized for study in a way mine is not. Students have teachers, exams, correction in class, observation of the errors of others, the chance to study together with others, all of which I lack.

I was skeptical about the 400 lines, and this doubt made me wonder if the author knew what he was talking about, or was just repeating words he was told. But the assurance given by Hylander tells me there is no cause to deprecate the author on this account.