Catullus has brought out a method of translation question for me that I have struggled with in Latin for all ten years. 37: Loeb translates “Salax taberna vosque contubernales” as “you regulars of the whore-house tavern.” Clearly, ‘salax taberna’ is either vocative or nominative (not genitive or even ablative of place where), but neither grammatically gives us ‘of the whore-house tavern.’ Possible Solution #1: There is no grammatical explanation, but, rather, a semantic one: these words fit the context of the meaning, to heck with the grammar. Possible Solution #2: Both nouns are vocative, and we are meant to see the whore-house tavern as addressed along with contubernales, but the whore-house tavern is never addressed again in the poem and doesn’t really seem to be what the poem is about.
Since I think Possible Solution #1 is best (although please point me to any other possible solutions or relevant threads, if I’m wrong), is this just a fact of life (fit the context to the meaning, to heck with the grammar) or is there a method to it (i.e. any Textkit threads, books, or articles that would help work through such difficulties where no grammar explains a translation?). I’m not sure this is only a poetry problem, is it, although perhaps it is primarily so? Thanks in advance for any thoughts you might have.
Salax taberna is vocative: he’s addressing the people in the tavern by metonymy, not the tavern itself. The translation is not strictly literal but captures the idea, and isn’t too far from literal.
This is of course not just permissible but desirable in translating–sometimes, or rather, very often, a departure from a literal translation is necessary or reads better. It’s not “to heck with grammar,” but a Latin text can never (well, hardly ever) be translated word for word into fluent English. The translator has to read and understand the Latin text and then, and only then, make some adjustments to produce a translation that reads like English and not like a bad translation of Latin. And that’s true whether the original text is poetry or prose and whether the language of the original is Latin or some other language.
There are no rules for this. Translators aiming at producing good translations need to be guided by their own knowledge of and feel for both languages.
But if you’re reading a poem in Latin – which you should do before you look at a translation – you should try to grasp how the Latin fits together. And if you’re trying to make your own translation, you should also try to understand how the Latin fits together before you think about how you can render it in smooth and fluent English that doesn’t do violence to the meaning of the Latin.
By the way, do you know what meter this poem is written in?
Thank you so much. That is exactly the type of brilliant insight I needed. I’m not very good at scansion etc., but in my short ten-minute research, isn’t it choliambic?
Yes, choliambic. “Limping” iambic. It’s a meter associated with sarcasm and nasty insults. Fits this poem perfectly. Try reading it metrically, so that you feel the stumble at the end of each verse.
This is also why beginning students looking for support from translations for their homework don’t always find the translations as helpful as they think they are going to be. The translator is not interested in capturing the form of the original, but the sense of it. When we can read and understand the Latin without translating it, then we are in a position to offer translations at that level.
That leads to another question. I’ve actually heard some say that you should never look at a dictionary after you reach a certain basic level when you read the Latin; some say a translation is extremely important to use (I would be on this side), but I think others tend to be more skeptical of any translation at all (how is this possible?) I do wander if my own Latin would be better if I didn’t use a translation so much, but then I spend maybe a half hour without a translation and find I’ve gotten nowhere or, apparently, the wrong direction. I would love to hear your thoughts on the matter . I think Justin Slocum Bailey, in his “Driving with Dido” has some incredible thoughts on this although I’m still trying to process them.
Not familiar with Baily on this, but will have a look at what he has to say (guys who use all three names are usually better quality writers anyway… ). I’ll put it this way: translations are most helpful when we don’t need the translation, when we can look at the original and have a good basic comprehension without reference to any outside aids. I remember my first year at graduate school I was making a vocabulary list for a play of Sophocles we were reading, and a second year grad student caught me. “What, you are still making word lists? That’s not going to help your Greek. You need to stop that and just read the Greek…” I was so shamed I hid my word lists from then on… but I also took what he was saying to heart, and so weaned myself of the practice. It was tough at first, but soon I noticed both comprehension and reading speed increasing.
Dictionaries and lexicons are again most helpful when we really don’t need them. I’m not going to say never use them, but try using them about as often as you use an English dictionary, which is to say with really rare English words. Do your best to figure out the precise usage of the word from context. That can be a bit tough at times in Latin, which has a relatively meagre lexical stock compared to Greek or English, with the result that any individual vocabulary item tends to have a wider semantic range than languages that are rich in lexical stock. The effort however, is well worth it in the long run. When you do have to look up a word, pay special attention to the Latin synonyms the dictionary might offer. Lewis and Short often does that. If we define the words as the ancients would have done so, paraphrasing them in their own language, that’s tops.
Part of the problem is that we don’t have a dominant linguaculture where Latin is spoken. To a certain extent we therefore have to depend on language aids that are not written in Latin. But the sooner we wean ourselves, the better.
I remember my first year at graduate school I was making a vocabulary list for a play of Sophocles we were reading, and a second year grad student caught me. “What, you are still making word lists? That’s not going to help your Greek. You need to stop that and just read the Greek…”
That’s second-year grad students for you. In my experience making vocabulary lists can be very helpful. And I’d say that dictionaries and translations are most helpful not when we don’t need them but when we do.
I was going to write a longer response about the dangers of relying on intuition instead of dictionaries on encountering an unknown word, especially in the high-flown and poetic register of tragedy, and the usefulness of vocabulary lists, but mwh has hit the nail on the head.
The danger of relying on intuition when encountering an unknown word is that we might get it wrong. Mehurcule! μὴ γένοιτο! In language acquisition, the effort of the exercise and learning from mistakes are extremely valuable. If we want to check a translation, the best thing is not to do it phrase by phrase, but to read through a whole section, doing our best. Then read the translation. Then return to the original and see if it’s any clearer. Repeat if necessary. But the less we allow English or any other secondary language between us and the text, the better our long term experience with the language will be.
Word lists and flash cards are fine for the beginning stages (some would argue vehemently against this), but again we need to wean ourselves of such. They are like the multiplication tables. A fine thing to learn, but not as an end in itself, but in order to actually use them for higher mathematical goals. The best way to learn vocabulary is to read lots of the language, and see the words in context. The more we do this, the more we learn how the words are used in the language. Nobody carries dictionary definitions of words in their head for their first language, but we know how words are used and how contexts fits what we want to communicate. We want to approximate that in our use of Latin. And when we do look up words, read the entire definition, instead of yielding to the temptation of finding the English gloss that seems the best to us for the moment, noting any original language synonyms or phrases using the word in context.
Yeah, I know, tempus fugit atque omnia fluunt. But even if we have only a few minutes daily, let’s make it quality time…
The danger of relying on intuition when encountering an unknown word is that we might get it wrong. Mehurcule! μὴ γένοιτο! In language acquisition, the effort of the exercise and learning from mistakes are extremely valuable.
But how do we learn we’ve got it wrong? We can’t learn from our mistakes if we don’t know we’ve made them. We’re in a vicious circle of error.
And when we do look up words, read the entire definition, instead of yielding to the temptation of finding the English gloss that seems the best to us for the moment, noting any original language synonyms or phrases using the word in context.
I didn’t say we should never check our work. I am suggesting that we use English as little as possible while doing our work. If we have internalized the language, mistakes won’t derail us, anymore than when we make mistakes in our primary language. And when we’ve corrected the mistake, we remember the correction much better.
I always look at a dictionary. The wonderful Lewis and Short dictionary is often my only resource when reading a Latin text. More often than not, the exact passage I have trouble with is cited in the dictionary.
Personally, I look at a translation very rarely, only when I’m completely unsure of a construction or it’s something I’ve never seen. I try to learn as much of the grammar as I can by reading things like Allen and Greenough’s so that I’m familiar with nearly every construction I come accross. If I still can’t figure out a passage (which is very rare lately) I try to find a commentary online that can solve my problem before I go to a translation.
The reason that the passage is quoted is that you are reading an author who exemplifies the usage, and so it gets cited. I still like the idea of using the dictionary as little as possible and working through it in context. I’ve really had a workout doing this reading LXX Leviticus, which can easily challenge Homer for rare usages and hapax legomena! I can’t stand reading grammars, but after years of teaching Latin, I can cite most grammatical rules off the top of my head. The challenge is of course is reading real authors who use the language creatively and getting used to different styles. I’m not trying to lay down rules for other people with my suggestions, just sharing what has been helpful and worked for me over the years. It’s helpful hearing what’s worked for others as well.
I think Dantius’ practice is pretty good. What I’ve found useful over the years is (1) reading (reading real authors, as Barry puts it), (2) using a dictionary whenever needed, and (3) mastering grammar and style; all as a single operation. Add (4) using good commentaries. Learning grammar on its own (with examples) is useful early on; later you need to resort to a grammar only when something is problematic or seems out of the ordinary.
But different strokes for different folks. Whatever works. But if you really want to learn the language, we all agree, you won’t look at a translation before you’ve done what you can with the original. And when reading don’t think in terms of translation at all, but just read, word by word, phrase by phrase.
Good commentaries (I hate the bad ones) are very helpful when one’s Latin is farther along in the acquisition stage. In the earlier stages, they always seem to answer every question except the one the student has…
That’s basically what I do. Generally, however, I don’t actually use a commentary unless I’m having real trouble with a passage or the historical context of something. For the most part I use a combination of references in the dictionary, Wikipedia, and other sources, and it generally works. I’ll often read a general biography of the author and analysis and learn about his basic style before I begin so that I can have some context to interpret the work before I begin.
I did however need to use a commentary to read Ovid’s Ibis as it was so full of really obscure references that I couldn’t just search up names in the dictionary (as Ovid specifically avoided saying the names).
. I think Justin Slocum Bailey, in his “Driving with Dido” has some incredible thoughts on this although I’m still trying to process them.