Help Translating Medieval Greek

I was reading the Greek forum on Reddit and came across a member asking about a passage of medieval Greek that is apparently the first time that Marcus Aurelius’ meditations are mentioned. The person found the passage in the book Arethae Scripta Minora by L. G. Westerink, volume 1, page 305. I gave it a try and got a little ways but i am having trouble with how they use the participles (particularly the ones involving ἔχων). Below is the passage. Here is what I have though:

The emperor Marcus’ most useful old book even [more useful] than that which I currently possess, not because it has been both completely spread abroad and the fascination of his worth by those who are willing to admit it, nevertheless since now there has come about for me from there correspondence and news again to those with us …


Μάρκου τοῦ αὐτοκράτορος τὸ μεγαλωφελἐστατον βιβλίον παλαιὸν μὲν καὶ πρὸ τοῦ ἔχων, οὐ μὴν ὅτι καὶ παντάπασι διερρυηκὸς καὶ τοῦ χρησίμου ἑαυτοῦ τοῖς βουλομένοις βασκήναντος, ὅμως ἐπεὶ νῦν ἐξεγένετό μοι ἐκεῖθεν ἀντιγράψαι καὶ νεαρὸν ἆυθις τοῖς μεθ’ ἡμᾶς παραπέμψαι, διττὸν δὲ τοῦτο κεκτῆσθαι ἑτέρου μηδὲ καθ’ ἕν ἔχοντος χρῆσθαι, φθονερᾶς ἔργον καλῶς ὑπολαμβάνων ψυχῆς καὶ πονηροῦ ἤθους ἐν τούτοις επιδείκνυσθαι το γλίσχρον οὐδ’ ἥντινια σκαιότητος καταλείποντος ὑπερβολήν, ὧν κοινὴν ἅπασι προύθηκε τὴν ἀπόλαυσιν αὐτή τε πρῶτον ἡ πρώτη τῶν ἀγαθῶν αἰτία θεὸς καὶ ὅσοι μετ’ ἑκείνην τὸ παρ’ ἐκείνης τοῖς ἄλλοις εκλάμποντες φως: ἤ τι ποτ’ ἔδει καὶ γράφειν καὶ βίβλοις ἐναποτιθέναι τὸν θησαυρόν; Τοῦτο μὲν οὔν τοιοῦτο ὑπολαμβάνων τῆς προτέρας ἐμοὶ κτήσεως κληρονόμον δίκαιον ᾠήθην τὴν πανίερον ὑμῶν καταστῆσαι ἁγιωσύνην, ὡς ἄν ᾖ σοι τοῦτο καὶ φιλὶας καὶ τρόπου καὶ τοῦ αὐτεπαγγέλτου μνημόσυνον τοῦ ἡμετέρου, προσθείην δ’ ὅτι καὶ ζῆλος, εἴπερ ἄρα καὶ τοῖς μεγίστοις ἀπὸ τῶν φαυλοτάτον περιγίνεται κέρδος.

Arethas’ letter records his transcribing (αντιγραψαι, “to copy”) an old worn-out copy of what I presume is the Meditations, so that it could be handed on to posterity (τοις μεθ’ημας) in its renewed form (νεαρον αυθις). Instead of then tossing the old manuscript in the trash, as was the usual practice, he’s sending it on to his metropolitan (a high ecclesiastical title) with this cover note, since it hasn’t altogether lost its serviceability.

The worn-out copy will been a manuscript written in the old uncial script, from late antiquity, and the new one will have been written in the new script, minuscule. This is how ancient Greek books that somehow succeeded in making it through what used to be called the Dark Ages to the philological resurgence of the late 9th-10th century at Constantinople and elsewhere were transmitted to future generations—and in due course to us. It’s the likes of Arethas who saved them.
In fact—I could be wrong about this—I believe the Meditations only exist because he made this copy. Not even ISIS can destroy them now.

Thanks for the tips mwh. That helps clarify some of the passages I am struggling with. Might anyone have any insight into these clauses:

οὐ μὴν ὅτι καὶ παντάπασι διερρυηκὸς καὶ τοῦ χρησίμου ἑαυτοῦ τοῖς βουλομένοις βασκήναντος
The τοῖς βουλομένοις part is throwing me off. Also I assume that the τοῦ χρησίμου ἑαυτοῦ…βασκήναντος is a genitive absolute but I can’t figure out how it fits in with the other parts.

διττὸν δὲ τοῦτο κεκτῆσθαι ἑτέρου μηδὲ καθ’ ἕν ἔχοντος χρῆσθαι
The participle “ἔχοντος” is confusing. Is it to be translated as “being able”? Also “καθ’ ἕν” is throwing me off.

I think if I could understand these two key parts I would be able to get a handle on the rest of the selection.

οὐ μὴν ὅτι καὶ παντάπασι διερρυηκὸς καὶ τοῦ χρησίμου ἑαυτοῦ τοῖς βουλομένοις βασκήναντος

I thought that he was saying that it’s not completely consumed by those who wanted to use it for magic spells. (Tearing out pages to make amulets, etc.) But there’s a different (certainly better) interpretation here.

“not entirely fallen apart, nor depriving readers of its utility.”

Wow…I never would have guessed that “τοῦ χρησίμου ἑαυτοῦ τοῖς βουλομένοις βασκήναντος” could be interpreted as “not depriving the reader of its utility”. I assume in this case that τοῖς βουλομένοις is translated as “reader”. I could see how maybe the word “user” could be pulled from the word “βούλομαι” but that seems to really be pushing the semantic range of my understanding of the word “βούλομαι”.

You may translate it more literally as “anyone who likes”.

mahasacham,
You’ve certainly put your finger on the difficult bits!

οὐ μὴν ὅτι καὶ παντάπασι διερρυηκὸς καὶ τοῦ χρησίμου ἑαυτοῦ τοῖς βουλομένοις βασκήναντος
I take διερρυηκός to mean “worn out," implying deterioration due to wear and age. (It will have been some centuries old.) Probably not “flaking” (of the ink?), but could encompass fading of the ink (iron-based inks faded, unlike the older carbon-based ones) and abrasion, as well as physical damage to the papyrus or more likely parchment—torn, worm-eaten, or simply with the quires and pages come apart with loss of the bindings.

τοῦ χρησίμου ἑαυτοῦ τοῖς βουλομένοις βασκήναντος I found a puzzling phrase, and still do, on account of the extremely strange use of βασκηναντος. Must be genitive absolute, yes, and the best I could make of it was “its own serviceability ?only grudgingly yielding? to any wishing (to read it).” That would be in line with the interpretation discovered by jeidsath, “nor depriving readers of its utility.” But I’m not at all sure βασκαινω could possibly be used like this.
—I’m wondering whether βασκηναντος could be a mistake (easily induced by the genitives preceding) for βασκηναν, neuter participle in parallel with διερρυηκός, referring to the old book itself. That would give the verb a regular construction (dat. of person begrudged, gen. of thing begrudged) and remove all difficulty. “begrudging those wanting (to use it) its own usefulness” (construction as in He begrudged me his help). This would attribute a kind of malignity (βασκανία) to the book in refusing to give up its secrets easily, in keeping with its condition and with remarks later in the letter.
—But I haven’t read the articles referred to in the footnote linked by jeidsath or any other literature on the letter, so I’m not prepared to say that βασκηναντος is wrong, just that I don’t properly understand it if it’s right. The phrase has evidently caused difficulty. I’d like to know if βάσκηναν has ever been proposed.

διττὸν δὲ τοῦτο κεκτῆσθαι ἑτέρου μηδὲ καθ’ ἕν ἔχοντος χρῆσθαι.
Here too I share your difficulty. “and to keep possession of this duplicate [i.e. the new book he’s made] since another person wouldn’t be able to make use of it even in its individual particulars”?? I first took ετερου as referring to the exemplar, but that works only if χρησθαι can be passive, “to be used.” I really don’t get this.

Various points amiss in your first shot at the beginning.

The emperor Marcus’ most useful old book even [more useful] than that which I currently possess, not because it has been both completely spread abroad and the fascination of his worth by those who are willing to admit it, nevertheless since now there has come about for me from there correspondence and news again to those with us …

Rather “Having the exceedingly useful book [i.e. a manuscript of it] of the emperor Marcus, old even before now but nonetheless not totally worn out and its own usefulness begrudging those wanting to use it (?), since I now gained the opportunity to make a transcription from it and to send it on in its renewed form to those who will come after us, …"

Once again, thank you for the help mwh. Your insights into some of the possible meanings should really help me to figure out some of the other sections.

I read that Arethas was notorious for being difficult to read and likened his style to Thucydides. It is nice to know that I am not the only one that finds Arethas’ use of words perplexing. In general though, I have found medieval Greek Authors to be quite difficult to understand in some places. I think it has to do with the fact that these authors have about 2000 years of skillful rhetorical devices to draw on and they feel the need to push forward the intricacy and embellishment of the language…And I welcome this challenge.

Yes, witness that οὐ μὴν ὅτι and the long convoluted sentences. It all seems very affected, and there are unclassical constructions mixed in. But I know little about this kind of Greek, and I suppose it was just the accepted style of writing for the learned Arethas and his circle. Quite extraordinary for its time, though, and very interesting. I have only just learnt (or perhaps relearnt), from Wikipedia, that his name is the Greek form of the Arab name al-Harith. I doubt he acknowledged that, if he even knew. Nigel Wilson’s Scholars of Byzantium details his activities if I remember, as I expect you know.

But I write again simply to note that I left out that important “nevertheless” kicking off the main clause—and to wish you well with your struggles!

I’m glad to see that mwh does get all of this, either. I thought I was losing my tenuous grip on Greek when I first looked at it.

I opened the thread to see how Hylander had sorted it all out for us. Oh well. (Correct “does” to “doesn’t.”) But the light has dawned on the phrase τοῦ χρησίμου ἑαυτοῦ τοῖς βουλομένοις βασκήναντος. I’d been taking taking εαυτου with του χρησιμου (“its own usefulness”), as who wouldn’t? But no, it’s governed by βασκηναντος, “its usefulness having begrudged itself,” “having been grudging of itself.” As an independent sentence it would be το χρησιμον εαυτου εβασκηνεν (τὸ χρ. nom., functioning as substantive). It’s το χρησιμον, the book’s serviceability, that did the begrudging, and what it begrudged was itself. The grammar is actually quite simple, once you realize that εαυτου doesn’t go with του χρησιμου but is governed by the participle. (The construction is as I outlined, gen. of thing, dat. of person, but with του χρησιμου, not the book itself, being the subject of the participle.) It’s the thought, the “conceit,” that makes it tricky.