Treasuring Words and Admiring Their Weave [ll.2756-2771a] (Old English)

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Finding Use for Treasure
A Shining Standard
Closing

{Shy of the characters, Wiglaf may have seen a standard just like this one. Image found on Wikipedia.}

Back To Top
Abstract

Wiglaf hurries to the hoard, where he is mesmerized by the treasure that he finds.

Back To Top
Translation

"He, the triumphant in victory, when he beyond the seat
went, the young brave thane, saw many precious jewels,
glittering gold lay on the ground,
wondrous objects on the wall, and in that dragon’s lair,
daybreak flier of old, cups stood,
vessels of men of old, now lacking a burnisher,
deprived of adornment.* There were many a helmet,
old and rusty, a multitude of arm-rings
skillfully twisted. Treasure easily may,
gold in ground, overpower each one of
mankind, though one may hide it.
Also hanging he saw a standard all of gold
high over the hoard, greatest of marvels made by hand,
woven by skill of craft; from there light
shone out, so that he might see the surface of the floor,
could look at every part of those ornate objects."
(Beowulf ll.2756-2771a)

Back To Top
Recordings

Old English:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
Finding Use for Treasure

After the excitement of the battle with the dragon, and Beowulf's heartfelt summary of his kingship, this passage is definitely something of a rest. But that doesn't mean that it's entirely silent, a point in the story where the poem's original audiences could entirely rest.

For there is treasure about.

And, along with the treasure comes a very interesting passage: "cups stood,/vessels of men of old,now lacking a burnisher,/deprived of adornment" ("orcas stondan,/fyrnmanna fatu feormendlease,/hyrstum behrorene" (ll.2760-2762)).

What makes this passage more than what it seems is it's implication about treasure and people's relationship to it. Because "deprived of adornment" follows "now lacking a burnisher" it sounds as if the burnishing, the polishing, was these cups' adornment. This makes sense since whatever precious metal they were made of would require maintenance of some sort to keep its shine.

But what's more is that as this treasure was in the care of a characteristically miserly dragon, it didn't receive that care that people would have given it. But add to this why people would care to preserve their treasure, especially the sorts of things described here. My own theory is that they would use these things and they would need them to be in their top shape.

Putting this all together you come out with the impression that the passage implies that treasure is ostensibly valuable only when it's being used by people. And treasure can't be used by the same person indefinitely, so the best way to keep treasure in use is to give it away. It's given away to be used by the young, who can then maintain it and then give it away again, thus keeping the cycle going indefinitely.

Not to mention keeping the preciousness of the treasure in tact indefinitely.

However, this reading of treasure as the fuel in a perpetual motion machine of gifting and receiving is troubled by what happens to the treasure hoard that Beowulf and Wiglaf won. It all gets buried with Beowulf.

To be fair, the treasure may well have been buried for a strategic purpose. After all, having great wealth would likely bring down the Geats' old enemies upon them much more quickly than the news of their loss alone.

Back To Top
A Shining Standard

Another illuminating part of this passage comes at it's end. The standard that lights the cave in which Wiglaf finds the hoard is clearly very shiny (being described as "all of gold" ("eallgylden" (ll.2767))), and must have sunlight striking it. But this sparkling standard is also significant because it echoes an earlier light in a cave: That which appears when Beowulf kills Grendel's Mother in her den (ll.1570-1572).

Because of the parallels - the light appears in a cave, comes from a fantastical source, flares up only after the defeat of a powerful monster of one sort or other - it's tempting to say that Wiglaf's assist in slaying the dragon is his own killing of Grendel's Mother. This reading is also bolstered by Wiglaf's taking treasures back with him to Beowulf just as Beowulf bore the hilt of the giants' sword and Grendel's head back to Hrothgar.

Yet, then, we run into the question: Is that where the parallels end? After the treasure is brought back to Beowulf and Wiglaf is cemented as the new leader of the Geats is he not still on the same trajectory as Beowulf?

Maybe he is, but because he isn't Beowulf (even if he is, for now, nameless) it's not his fate for a similar trajectory to land him in the same place as the poem's lead character.

Back To Top
Closing

Next week, the third and final stanza of "O Fortuna" gets translated (and the whole thing gets posted as a recording), and Wiglaf takes as much treasure as he can back to the waiting Beowulf.

Back To Top

Sex, Horses, and Reproductive Lore [12:58-59] (Latin)

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
The Galen Connection
Beautiful Thoughts, Beautiful Offspring
Closing

{Jacob, showing the sheep the peeled rods. Image found in the National Library of the Netherlands' Medieval Illuminated Manuscripts Collection.}

Back To Top
Abstract

Isidore gets into the details of managing the conception and birthing of animal offspring for desired results.

Back To Top
Translation

[58] "Certainly human diligence has paired many diverse animals together in sex, so too are discovered other types mingling in forged embraces; just as Jacob was able to get animals of unnatural color and likeness. For the rod was absorbed by those fertile sheep, which they would see by the water as the shadow of a ram looming over them.

[59] "Further, this itsef is done with the fertile mares of a herd, so that the birth of horses is affected by what is thrown before them while they conceive, which are able to conceive and create their likeness. For on their collars are painted in a beautiful way and placed in their presence, those that they respect, which leads to quick births of animals like those that they see."
(St. Isidore of Seville, Etymologiae 12:58-59)

Back To Top
Recordings

Latin:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
The Galen Connection

The ideas that Isidore writes about here might just be pulled from the works of the famed second century physician and philosopher, Galen. His theory of conception was that it was necessary for both a man and a woman who wanted to have a child to orgasm at the same time, thereby having their contributions to the child line up.

A failure to impregnate a woman or to become impregnated was a failure to climax at the same time in other words, and not necessarily chalked up to either partner's having something wrong with their equipment.

Further, though, Galen also wrote about how it was important for the parents-to-be to imagine beautiful things during intercourse.

This was especially true for women, since there was a vague sense that they carried the human essence that would become a child and that men merely helped to shape and quicken this essence. So, if a man was thinking of a lovely thing, and the woman he was with was thinking of some sort of "dog-headed ape" (to borrow Isidore's "cynocephalus" (12:60)), it was believed that her conception would result in the child being somehow deficient.

Unfortunately, the emphasis on simultaneous orgasm didn't last too far into the medieval period since the re-discovery of Aristotle led to the adoption of his ideas on the matter. According to old Ari, only the man had to orgasm during sex; it was merely the woman's job to catch his ejaculation properly.

Back To Top
Beautiful Thoughts, Beautiful Offspring

As far as the animals that Isidore writes about here are concerned, the same principles are in play. Plus, he wisely refers to the greatest auctoritee of them all in the medieval world - Scripture.

Jacob used his own sort of animal engineering, and that lead to his prosperity, so why can't contemporary people do the same, the reference implies.

In fact, paragraph 59, though only about mares, talks about presenting those that are fertile with beautiful things so matter of factly that the lore presented is definitely taken as pure fact.

Perhaps there is some truth to it, since a birth might not go so smoothly if a mare gets spooked in the middle of it, or is under extra duress because she's being stared down by some cynocephalus or other.

Back To Top
Closing

Check back here Thursday for Wiglaf's washing, and the beginning of Beowulf's rather telling speech.

Back To Top

Moving from Horses to Mules [12:56-57] (Latin)

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Moving Mules from Language to Language
The Power of the Bigenerum?
Closing

{Simply grey, but what a worker. Image from the National Library of the Netherlands' Medieval Illuminated Manuscripts collection.}

Back To Top
Abstract

Isidore's generalization about the three kinds of horses moves into a piece about mules, their uses, origins, and habits.

Back To Top
Translation

[56] "There are three kinds of horses: those apt for war and work, others to drive the commons and the herd, but are not apt to ride, the third arises from a mixture of the diverse kinds, that are truly called two-kinded (bigenerum) which from diverse sorts are born, like mules.

[57] "Moreover, the word mule is had from the Greek for "drive" (tractum). Among the Greeks, millers truly use this mule to turn the mechanism of their mills. The Jews freed those flocks when Jacob made them conceive mules in the desert by himself, made of the first born, so that the mules from there were newly and against nature born among natural animals. Wild asses to this also are added as well as donkeys: and they themselves by the same method are found in intercourse, so that very quickly are donkeys born."
(St. Isidore of Seville, Etymologiae 12:56-57)

Back To Top
Recordings

Latin:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
Moving Mules from Language to Language

Although mules are well suited to menial tasks, like powering mills, Isidore did not make them easy to translate into English. Much of paragraph 57 is understandable with some tweaks and some twists, but it all runs on contemporary shared knowledge more than anything else save for its opening sentence.

The relationship between whatever Greek word is in question and the Latin tractum is not entirely clear. The sentence could mean that the Greek is derived from the Latin, or that the Latin term and the Greek are the same, and so there's no need for the differentiation that including both terms brings.

The quick retelling of the story of Jacob and Laban's flocks is also altered in the original Latin. The crux of this is the phrase "Ana abnepos Esau" (12:57) Esau is a familiar name, but Ana looks off, and the combination of the two with the word for "great great grandson" makes it even more bizarre. Perhaps there's some esoteric bit of lore about a grandson that's at work here, but that has since been forgotten about.

Other interpretations of these passages are possible, but these are the ones that seem most likely to me, given my limited knowledge of Latin's complexities.

Back To Top
The Power of the Bigenerum?

To sum up the entirey of paragraph 57, mules are work animals.

But the question that arises from these two paragraphs is: Does this designation as a work animal come from mules' being a perfect mixture of two types of horse - as seems to be implied by a Latin adjective describing mules - "bigenerum" (12:56)?

Given the description of mules thus far, it seems that the answer must be yes, resoundingly. After all, combine horses that can be ridden into war, and those that can be used to herd animals, and the natural result would be something hardy and used for strenuous activity.

But then, if Esau is being credited with the creation of mules, then does that mean that he did it intentionally?

According to the story in the KJV (Genesis 30:25-43), Jacob creates these mules in order to steal away Laban's flock after he has worked for him for seven years in exchange for Laban's daughter Rachel.

Since the idea to use the rod to scare the females into giving birth while they were drinking, resulting in mules, was his own, Isidore is definitely in the right to say that these mules were "were newly and against nature born among natural animals," ("nova contra naturam animalia nascerentur" 12:57).

Truly intriguing in the KJV though is the mention in verse 41 of chapter 30 of Genesis that Jacob only used his trick when the strong ones among Laban's flocks and cattle were pregnant. In other words, they weren't just bred for necessity, they were bred for strength - something that Isidore nails here.

Back To Top
Closing

Check back here on Thursday for Beowulf and Wiglaf's brief revel, and a tragic realization.

Back To Top

Isidore of Seville on Color (Pt.2) [12:53-55] (Latin)

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
The Trickiness of Translating Color (2)
High Riders and Low Riders
Closing

{A stained glass window from The Cathedral of Saint Mary of the See, also known simply as Seville Cathedral. Image from the Wikipedia.}

Back To Top
Abstract

Isidore continues his descriptions of colors, and ends with an indirect description of a pony express.

Back To Top
Translation

[53] "Roan is what the common folk call guaranen. Brazen itself the commons call this; which is colored in the way of bronze. On the other hand, myrtle is simply purple.

[54] "Moreover, they call it [dowry], the color that is the same as the ass' color: that itself and ash grey are the same. They are also those colors in the wild breeds: those born, as the horse breeders say, without the ability to pass on the refinement of civilization.

[55] "Moors are black, truly the Greeks call black mauron. Gallic horses are in fact small horses, which the commons call brownish. Truly gifted the old ones call those which drive back, that is lead; or which run on public ways, going to and fro as they are accustomed to do."
(St. Isidore of Seville, Etymologiae 12:53-55)

Back To Top
Recordings

Latin:

{Forthcoming}

Modern English:

{Forthcoming}

Back To Top
The Trickiness of Translating Color (2)

Some things just don't seem to be translatable. This week's section isn't as bad as last week's, but one word seems to have been left behind by Modern English: "guaranen."

This word is indeed mysterious, but it must at the least refer to some color involving brown and white since it's comparable to the color roan, itself the name for the color of animals whose pelts mingle brown and white closely together.

Back To Top
High Riders and Low Riders

Throughout the descriptions and explanations this week, Isidore consistently refers to the commons as having a different vocabulary. Since he's writing about horses, an animal that has many functions in human societies, this makes sense.

The common folk are likely to use horses to work and get around, whereas the wealthy are those that breed them for show and for speed - arguably less utilitarian ends. A gap between these two groups is also seen in the differing terms for copper colored: "cervinus" and "Aeranen," (12:53). The first of these refers to the color of deer and the second to the color of a valuable metal thought to last forever.

Color terms are likely to come from things encountered in daily life, since this gives them a grounding in shared experience, and the difference in experience of the wealthy and the commons is underscored by the gap between the deer that the wealthy had time to admire and a valuable metal that the commons may well have coveted.

Curiously, this creates something of a yin-yang relationship, in that each group contains a germ of the other.

Back To Top
Closing

Check back here on Thursday for the final exchange of attacks between team Beowulf and the dragon.

Back To Top

More on Horses from Isidore (Part 1 of the Guide to a Good Horse) [12:44-46] (Latin)

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Deference to Authority
Guide to a Good Horse (Part 1)
Closing

{Two horses that would definitely fit the requirements that Isidore outlines for a "good horse". Image from Wikipedia.}

Back To Top
Abstract

Isidore shares where the longest and shortest lived horses can be found. And he explains what true horsemen look for in a sturdy specimen.

Back To Top
Translation

[44] "Truly either because of sadness or joy horses struggle to comprehend future events. Long lived horses are Persian, Hunnish, those of Epirus, and Sicily which can live at most to 50 years, but short lived horses are those from Spain and Numidea and Gaul, as is frequently conjectured.

[45] "Among high born horses, according to veterans, these are the four things to watch for: shape, beauty, kindness, and color. Shape is a healthy and solid body, strength matching size, a long side, a maximally tight and round buttocks, a broad chest side, a body knotted with dense muscle all over, healthy hooves, and fine curved ears.

[46] "Beauty is a small and healthy head, skin closely adhering to bones, short and graceful ears, large eyes, open nostrils, an erect neck, dense hair and tail, smooth and solid piercing hooves."
(St. Isidore of Seville, Etymologiae 12:44-46)

Back To Top
Recordings

Latin:



Modern English:



Back To Top
Deference to Authority

Both of the major points in this week’s section (horses’ lifespan, and what to look for in a good one) are given as opinion. In the case of where the longest and shortest lived horses can be found, the entry is based on what is “frequently conjectured,” (“frequens opinio”) and when Isidore shifts to talk of the key qualities of a good horse, he defers to “veterans” (“veteres”).

Part of the reason for this deference is that the Etymologies isn’t entirely an original work. Rather than writing everything from scratch, Isidore compiled a lot of his entries from other sources, copying them out by hand, of course, but still copying nonetheless.

However, though this kind of copying rankles academics and writers and publishers worldwide today, it was simply how things were done in the middle ages. Not because people were less able to understand things, but, in part, because books were much more difficult to create.

After all, the longer the book, the more velum a person would need, and the more velum needed meant the more sheep or goats had to be killed to provide that velum. All the other parts of the animal would be used, but if it was an animal used for its milk or wool, but a book was something that an animal could only be used for once (though there’s got to be a medieval romance that features a magical, self-resurrecting sheep out there).

Deference to other authorities fits well into such a publishing system, since it keeps things light. Rather than having everyone explain something thoroughly and use up more and more of the time's precious writing materials, writers could just say “as x explained in y.” Though such references were often not so explicit as to give names and titles.

How all of this relates to horses is beyond me, though horse meat is rather tasty, and this first half of the 7th century guide on how to choose a horse makes a little more sense if you keep in mind that mainland Europeans once did (and still do) raise horses for eating.

Back To Top
Guide to a Good Horse (Part 1)

The two key qualities that Isidore outlines here are a horse’s “shape” ("forma") and “beauty” ("pulchritudo"). To modern eyes the first one makes a little bit more sense than the other, but the descriptions of each make it clear why these are relevant criteria.

Shape boils down to health, and what might be known as Body Mass Index (BMI, a ratio of body fat to body mass and height) today. From the sounds of it, a truly shapely horse is one that is firmly outfitted with muscle and that has the minimum amount of fat possible. Otherwise, shape matching size, firm buttocks, and body knotted in muscle would simply be out of the question.

Beauty ties in quite closely to Shape, since it also deals with the health of the horse as well as its aesthetic appeal. Having a small head, erect neck, and skin that closely adheres to bones all suggest an animal that is healthy, and, again, has a minimum amount of fat on it. Assuming that these are horses for riding, and not for eating, this focus on qualities that relate to a low BMI makes sense, as any extra weight would slow down a horse that would already be carrying a grown man. Not to mention, a man who was likely wearing armor of some description.

Back To Top
Closing

There’s very little horsing around in this week’s extract from Beowulf, as Wiglaf rushes to Beowulf’s aid, shares some words of encouragement, and then prepares to defend against the dragon as it rushes on.

Back To Top

Isidore of Seville's High Praise for Horses [12:43] (Latin)

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
How Humors Figure into Horses?
Centaurs - A Passing Glance
Closing

{The constellation Centaurus, based on the super civilized Centaur, and great horse/human mix, Chiron. Image from The National Library of the Netherlands Medieval Illuminated Manuscripts Collection.}

Back To Top
Abstract

Isidore spends time with the horses, much of which is taken up by praise.

Back To Top
Translation

[43] “And from that steeds ("sonipeds"), whose hooves ("pedibus") sound out ("sonat"). Horses live many lives: truly they leap through fields; they smell out war; they are roused by the sound of horn and battle; the voices of riders push them to running gaits; they are downtrodden when they are maltreated; they are riotous with joy when they win. Certain of them sense the enemy in war, so that they aim to bite the enemy; others truly recognize their proper master, they forget their tameness if exchanged; some receive none on their back except their master. If their master dies or grows ill they shed many tears. Truly horses alone cry and feel sorrowful emotions like humans. From whence horses and humans are naturally mixed in centaurs.”
(St. Isidore of Seville, Etymologiae 12:43)

Back To Top
Recordings

Latin:



Modern English:



Back To Top
How Humors Figure into Horses?

Though it is just one paragraph in the Etymologiae, paragraph 43 might just be the most neatly structured.

The beginning sets up the main character - the horse - with a straightforward etymology, then the middle celebrates all of its qualities, and the end brings those qualities to a climax. And the claim nestled within that climax - that horses are the only animal that feels human emotions - definitely puts horses far above the other animals that show human behavior (lambs, cattle, and deer).

Yet, it’s curious that in his summing up of the horse’s human-like capacity for emotion, Isidore only mentions “sorrowful emotions” ("doloris affectum" (12:43)). Earlier in the paragraph, when speaking of the horse’s joy when its side is victorious, it seems that the horse can also sense the joy in the winning side. But in the summing up there is no mention of such lighthearted emotions.

This could be the contemporary understanding of the melancholic humors coming into play.

Since the Renaissance, a melancholic person has been seen as someone disconnected from the world, but who is in tune with the muses or a higher power.

Before the Renaissance, however, melancholic people were given the same properties as the earth element that corresponded to their dominant humor: lazy, slow, and ineffectual. Therefore, emphasizing a horse’s capacity for sorrow and tears - things anyone deemed melancholic is prone to - even after earlier pointing out their joy at victory, could be a way to keep the horse firmly grounded.

Perhaps this comparison even intimately associates the animal with the earth and what it represents in the theory of the humors. Nonetheless, presenting it as an animal capable of emotion still links it to the human.

Though no animal could ever entirely match a human in contemporary thought since humans alone were believed to possess things like free will and the ability to balance their humors, thereby becoming more “whole” or “perfect” and casting aside the normal trappings of life to get closer to the divine.

Back To Top
Centaurs - A Passing Glance

Thus far, though 3 animals have been likened to humans in some way, the horse is the only one to have a form that’s combined with humans. This combination could be considered monstrous, but Isidore very clearly states that the mixture of the two is entirely natural. Though he doesn't say clearly whether this natural mix is good or bad.

Perhaps Isidore understands the centaur as simply a symbolic mixture - a physical representation of the wild and civilized desires that are constantly warring with each other in the human psyche.

Back To Top
Closing

Check back here on Thursday for the first part of the speech Wiglaf uses to try and rouse his fellow warriors to go to Beowulf in his time of need.

Back To Top

When Isidore Starts Horsing around, His is a Slow but Steady Gait [12:40-42] (Latin)

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Etymology Dashes Straight from the Gate
A Nagging End
Closing

{This horse must be gritting its teeth because it's been captured standing still. Image from the National Library of the Netherlands Medieval Illuminated Manuscript Collection.}

Back To Top
Abstract

As quickly as a horse runs, Isidore speeds through entries on Arcadian asses and two kinds of horses.

Back To Top
Translation

[40] "They are called Arcadian asses, those that are ridden from Arcadia, these are big and tall. But small asses are very necessary for agriculture, as they do not refuse to take hard labour and near indifference.

[41] "Horses (equi) they are called, those which are yoked in teams of four, made equal (aequabantur), joined with a like form and share of running.

[42] "Nags (caballus) were formerly called hacks (cabo), because that they press an imprint of their hoof into the ground when walking, which the other animals do no leave/do."
(St. Isidore of Seville, Etymologiae 12:40-42)

Back To Top
Recordings

Latin:



Modern English:



Back To Top
Etymology Dashes Straight from the Gate

The Arcadian ass is the first instance of an animal being named because of its geographic location, at least in this section of the Etymologies. In fact, the etymology that's given for the horse is also pretty straightforward.

The horse's name in Latin, "equi," sounds like the Latin word for "equal" since horses, when yoked to a chariot are made equal in terms of their load of the work to pull that chariot (12:41).

This is an etymology that might not stand up to the scrutiny of modern physics, but it's a nice thought. Though, it doesn't quite elevate horses to the realm of humanity in the same way that lambs, cattle, and deer have been raised to that level. After all, the horses don't divvy up the work themselves, they're yoked to the chariot in such a way that they are made to be equal, or so St. Isidore asserts in that entry.

Back To Top
A Nagging End

The last entry in this section of the bishop's work doesn't offer such a direction etymological connection--at least not to a non-native Latin reader.

The connection between "caballus" and "cabo" is clear enough (12:42), but, left to a guess, something about Highland games and the caber toss might have gotten involved. At any rate nags must really be heavy hoofed animals if a clause about them being the only animal to leave such an imprint closes off their entry.

Though as older horses, maybe nags are a bit more worldly and experienced, maybe they've picked up some computer programming skills. Maybe, the impression that they leave is just their own small way of 'hack'-ing the earth.

Back To Top
Closing

That's all that Isidore wrote for this week (he's saving himself for next, just wait). But part two of the tale of Wiglaf's armor (check out part one here) is still in store for Thursday's entry, so be sure to come check it out.

Back To Top

Ruminating on Donkey Lore [12:37-39] (Latin)

{A curious depiction of the donkey from a medieval manuscript. Image from the National Libary of the Netherlands Medieval Illuminated Manuscripts Collection.}

Introduction
Translation
Recordings
The Medieval Bizarre
Under Early Riders
Closing



Back To Top
Introduction

After a brief explanation of just how the cud is chewed, Isidore moves on to talk about donkeys. Goats might be lusty, but donkeys might just be kinda kinky.

Back To Top
Translation

[37] “Indeed chewing the cud, rumination, is so called from the ruma, the part of the throat that is most eminent, by which these animals send back up their food from the fixed point of no return in their throats.

[38] “Ass and young donkey (asinus et asellus) are so called from "to be seated" (sedendo), like a seat: but this name, which is fitting for large horses, is given to the ass for the reason that this animal was used before horses to carry people, indeed these presided over the beginning. Since this animal is slow and holds no reason, it stands so that it can be put to people’s service by its own will.

[39] “Onager means wild ass. For in fact, the Greeks call asses onon: agrion for the wild ones. These Africa has in large numbers and untamed they wander through the deserts. On the other hand, the female alone is in herds. Males are born jealous and they pull down their testicles by biting, which they hide in secret locations and keep from their mothers.”
(St. Isidore of Seville, Etymologiae 12:37-39)

Back To Top
Recordings

Latin:



Modern English:



Back To Top
The Medieval Bizarre

St. Isidore might have named his encyclopedia the “Etymologies” since it's all about the origins of things, but along for the ride are some absolutely wild bits of lore.

Up there with the idea that cranes feed their chicks with their own blood and beavers gnaw off their testicles to distract prey while they escape, is Isidore’s bizarre explanation of why male donkeys do not run in packs. What’s unclear - even in this loose translation - is why the donkeys pull their testicles down in the first place.

Are they the prototypical males that are incredibly insecure about the size of their manhood and practicing an early form of animal enhancement?

Or is this just the result of somebody observing a few donkeys over eagerly cleaning their crotches? This last question raises another question, can horses do the same? Or are quadrupeds not quite that flexible? Since dogs are able to, maybe horses are just more private about it, whereas all of the donkeys running around 7th century Africa were constantly “pulling down their testicles by biting” ("testiculos eorum morsu detruncant” 12:39).

Back To Top

{Looking pretty humble, but is it a dog or a donkey? The little creature near the donkey's back leg looks curiously like some kind of miniature. Image from the National Libary of the Netherlands Medieval Illuminated Manuscripts Collection.}

Under Early Riders

Donkeys being the first animal ridden by people is another curious fact, though much less bizarre than that discussed above.

Of course, this kind of a fact is going to be geographically sensitive - people will ride what’s around as long as it’s occurred to them. If there were an island somewhere where the dogs were big enough and the people small enough, chances are, by the time this island were discovered, its people would be found riding its dogs.

Still, for the Mediterranean part of the world of which Isidore wrote, this is a curious fact since it suggests that there might be something more to Christ’s riding into Jerusalem on a donkey than his being humbled and whatnot.

Maybe riding into a major city on the oldest known mode of transportation referred to some long lost mystery rite, or cult, or religion?

Or maybe it was a display of some kind popularized among the people or in the place that Jesus was during those years of his life that are not chronicled.

Or, perhaps the donkey is a reference to the possibly well-known contemporary idea that the donkey was the first mode of transportation and suggests that it's still a reliable one - thereby alluding to the connection that Christians still mention between Christ and the Old Testament prophecies concerning the Messiah. Of course, this would also depend on whether or not the donkey could represent the contemporary idea of the original Jewish religion as laid down in the Pentateuch.

Isidore definitely leaves some food for thought with this one, and just the kind of stuff that you can swallow, regurgitate, and chew up again - stuff so juicy you can really ruminate on it.

Back To Top
Closing

On Thursday check out this blog for the continuing description of Wiglaf and his pedigree.

Back To Top

Mostly About Lovely Camel Lumps [12:34-36] (Latin)

Abstract
Translation
Recordings
Two Theories on and One Reason Why Camels are so Special
Closing

{A humble looking animal, indeed. Image from the National Library of the Netherlands Illuminated Manuscript Collection.}

Back To Top
Abstract

This week Isidore moves hastily from buffalo to camels by way of a certain kind of wild cow.

Back To Top
Translation

[34] "These are from Africa. Uri, a breed of wild cattle, are in Germania, they have horns that extend so that they signify a royal capacity able to carry their load. They call uri apoton oreon, that is, a mountain.

[35] "Camels are given the name either because when loaded, they are made to be low and humble in their laying down, which the Greeks call chamai, humble and low, or those which are of curved backs. For truly the Greek word kamour denotes a curve. These they sell and send to other regions, but mostly to Arabia. On the other hand, these are different; for Arabian camels have two lumps on their backs, those that remain in home regions have one.

[36] "Dromedary is a kind of camel, which has a smaller stature, but is faster. From whence it has its name, for dromos is what the Greeks call curved and fast. Truly, they can usually go for one hundred and more miles in a day. The which animal, like the cattle and the sheep and the other camels, chews the cud."
(St Isidore of Seville Etymologiae 12:34-36)

Back To Top
Recordings

Latin:



Modern English:



Back To Top
Two Theories on and One Reason Why Camels are so Special

What makes the camel so great that not only does Isidore just run right through a section on cattle with super long horns but he also uses it to segue into a section all about the cud and its purpose?

Perhaps camels were so much more impressive than horses because of their ability to be so laden with stuff - they were perhaps seen as a pack animal that’s more agreeable than a mule.

Or maybe it’s that they, like cattle and lambs before them, display a trait that humanity is meant to relate to: their humility and lowness when put into service and quite literally have an “onus” (related to the verb used in paragraph 35 for "loaded" - “onerantur” from “onerare”) put upon them.

Though, maybe these two reasons are just excuses, and the real reason that St. Isidore spends so much time on camels is because they’re the Ferraris of the seventh century. Clocking "one hundred miles and more a day," ("centum enim et amplius milia uno die" 12:36) they can probably rev from Seville to Toledo (about 250 miles) in less than three days when the average might be 8-14.

Even a bishop has a need for speed, right?

In fact, perhaps that’s why bishops can move diagonally on chess boards - one of the fastest ways to aggravate an unwary opponent.

Back To Top
Closing

Check back here on Thursday for the shift from Beowulf to his thanes and what ensues.

Back To Top

All About Three Things on Four Legs [12:31-33] (Latin)

Translation
Recordings
Cattle-trot Strut
On Calves
A Buffalo Re-Buff?
Closing

{Buffalo: so wild that they don't even keep within manuscript borders. Image from the National Library of the Netherlands Medieval Illuminated Manuscript Collection.}

St. Isidore moves pretty quickly through the next three types of animals, so let's get right to it.

Back To Top
Translation

[31] "Cow it is called, like cattle. In fact, it is a name from the quality of their movement, just as leonine comes from lion and draconic comes from dragon.

[32] Calves are so called from the Latin for greenness, that is the green age, just like a maiden. Thus the calf is small and does not have the power of generation: for only the bullock or cow has the power of generation.

[33] Buffalo they are called by derivation, which are like cattle; though they are wild so that they will not take the burden of a yoke upon their necks."
(St. Isidore of Seville, Etymologiae 12:31-33)

Back To Top
Recordings

Latin:



Modern English:



Back To Top
Cattle-trot Strut

Cow and cattle - the relationship in English is as clear as the relationship in Latin, that is, between "vacca" (the "v" is pronounced like a "w") and "boacca" (12:31).

What's not clear though is just what is meant by "cattle" coming from "the quality of their movement," ("Est enim ex qualitate mobilium nominum" (12:31)), it's just plain bizarre.

Maybe English has a word for the same sort of movement already, or maybe there just wasn't a need for a word for that kind of movement. What sort of movement marks a cow, anyway? Slow, steady, and sturdy? This is a relatively simple passage to translate, but the precise meaning of it is rather puzzling.

Back To Top
On Calves

Calves ("vitulus et vitula" (12:32)) being so named because of the Latin words' relation to the Latin for "green" ("viriditate") is much clearer.

Calves are young, prefer to frolic in the field, and, if pagan religious rites are any indication, iconic of the innocence associated with youth. Likewise, the propensity to sacrifice bullocks also makes sense since those are the male cattle that have just gained the power of generation, having gone through bovine puberty.

Paragraph 32 definitely deserves a medal of some sort for being so forthright and direct. But maybe it's like that because there's so little to say about the calf - cattle have already been likened to humans in that they seem to show compassion and so all that's needed here is an analogy to a maiden, one without any sort of blemish or lack in its purity. In fact, the word translated into "maiden," ("virgo" (12:32)), also could be translated as "virgin."

Back To Top
A Buffalo Re-Buff?

Then, we have the buffalo.

Isidore must mean that they're like cattle in appearance and maybe in the way that they move, but otherwise they're not given much of a chance. In fact, the mere note that they're too wild to be yoked suggests, through negation, that they're nothing at all like cattle in their character.

After all, the yoke is very much symbolic of cattle in this period. The yoke could even be used as a metonymy for them with no real problem in understanding whatsoever. So the buffalo's refusal of the yoke seems to be Isidore's way of making clear that they look like cattle, but lordy, they ain't no cattle.

Back To Top
Closing

Check back here on Thursday for Beowulf's reaction to his sword that "bit less strongly" than necessary in last week's entry (Beowulf l.2578).

Back To Top

Isidore of Seville on the Nobility of Cattle [12:30] (Latin)

Introduction
Translation
Recordings
A Word on "Plows"
Oh, Noble Cattle
Closing

{With a dewlap like that, this cow's royalty. Image from FithFath.}

Back To Top
Introduction

Today's is a short extract from the Etymology, and, with an ending that concentrates on the camaraderie between cattle, a sweet one.



Back To Top
Translation

[30] "The Greeks call cattle Boun. These the Latins call plows, those which turn the earth, as the plow. Naevius (trag. 62):

The plow is the governor of the countryside.

The width of whose hide from chin to legs is called a dewlap, from the skin itself, like dewlap hide; which in cattle signifies nobility. Cattle are exceptionally dutiful in groups; for one checks with another when they are usually lead together at the plow, and they will frequently make their affection clear by lowing if the other begins to fail."

(St. Isidore of Seville, Etymologiae 12:30)

Back To Top
Recordings

Latin:



Modern English:



Back To Top
A Word on "Plows"

Maybe English just isn't as poetic as Latin (it is the root of French, Spanish, and Portuguese after all), but anything called a "plow" just brings to mind a plow. The word doesn't exactly stir ideas of some cherished thing or animal.

Nonetheless, "plow" is the best translation that could be found for the Latin "trionem" (the simple "trio" being nonsensical in this context).

The word "trionem" might not be the greatest term of endearment, but a rolling "r" has to stand for something. Or maybe the Latin farmers were all about using metonymy.

Back To Top
Oh, Noble Cattle

At any rate, the nobility attributed to cattle, working cattle in particular here, does suggest a certain fondness for the animal. What's curious about this fondness though is that there's no real mention of milk or the meat taken from these animals.

Maybe these extras are simply seen as a given part of cattle's nobility (their magnanimity, if you will) since true nobility includes true generosity. Yet there's no comparison of cattle to Christ, so maybe the milk and meat offered by cattle simply weren't as highly prized as the labor they could undertake.

Besides, like the lambs that can recognize their parents, cattle that apparently encourage each other while at the plow are one step closer to being human. That may just be the highest praise a 7th century church man can offer. Being called the "governor of the countryside" (12:30) must count for something, too.

Back To Top
Closing

On Thursday check back here for a look at the first exchange of blows in Beowulf's fight with the dragon.

Back To Top

Quietly Boar-ish about Bulls [12:27-29] (Latin)

Introduction
Translation
Recordings
Persistent Etymologizing
Bull on Bulls?
Closing

{One of today's featured animals, looking very much like its hide will 'refuse all weapons.' Image from the National Library of the Netherlands Illuminated Manuscript Collection.}

Introduction

In this special weekend make-up edition of Tongues in Jars, St. Isidore talks boars and bulls:

Back To Top
Translation

"[27] The boar is named for its savagery, take away the letter F and replace it with a P. From whence and cloely the Greek Saugros, that is, wild, by which it’s called. Truly all, that are wild and irritable, we call wild marauders.
[28] A bullock it is called, which began as a help to men in cultivating the earth, or which the pagans always and everywhere sacrifice to Zeus/Jupiter, never a bull. For the age of the sacrifice is considered. Taurus is the name in Greek, as it is here.
[29] A dun colour indicates the bull, agility of a bird, its hair in opposing rows; the head they flexibly turn any way they wish; their back is quite hardy, refusing all weapons brought to bear against it."
(St. Isidore of Seville, Etymology 12:27-29)

Back To Top
Recordings

Latin:



Modern English:



Back To Top
Persistent Etymologizing

Sticking true to his work's name (Etymology, the origin of words), St. Isidore tries his darndest to relate the word "aper" (boar) to "feritate" (savagery) by replacing the "F" with a "P." Words starting with the letter "f" could logically begin to start with "p" so maybe "aper" broke off from "feritate" at some point. Nonetheless, the connection isn't quite as strong as some of Isidore's other efforts.

Back To Top
Bull on Bulls?

What's really curious in this passage is Isidore's description of the bull. Its agility would definitely be impressive given its size and its weight, but the description of its hair and flexible neck is quite odd.

Do the opposing rows of hair suggest curliness? Is the flexible neck considered something to prize - a sort of flexibility in being commanded? These are both things that we're left to wonder, as St. Isidore does not elaborate.

The toughness of leather (being a cow's skin, even on its back, after all) is also mentioned here, though the fact (likely the exaggeration) that it "refus[es] all weapons brought to bear against it" ("omne telum respuunt inmiti feritate" (12:29)) suggests that bulls just aren't made like they used to be. The drying process must make the cow hide too stiff, and thus unable to be flexible enough to turn weapons any which way it pleases.

Back To Top
Closing

Though he doesn't do much of it here, St. Isidore does elaborate on cattle in this week's regular Tuesday entry. And Beowulf strikes a blow against the dragon on Thursday, don't miss it!

Back To Top

Pigging Out on Early Medieval Animal Notions [12:23-26] (Latin)

Translation
Recordings
First Thoughts
On Connections
On Pigs
Closing

{A curious scene for a curious animal. Image from the Medieval Illuminated Manuscript Collection at the National Library of the Netherlands}

Translation

This week, Isidore's focus is on names. Quite a bit more than usual:

[23] "The hare (lepus), from light-footed (levipes), are those that run quickly. And they are called from the Greek for running "Lagos"; truly, fast is this animal, and very timid.
[24] The rabbit is a type of wild animal as is the wild dog, that which dogs entrap to capture or that they draw out from their warrens.
[25] Sows they are called, which root in the pastures, they dig in the earth in search of food. Boars (verres), those that have power (vires) when older. Pigs (porcus), since they are as filth (spurcus). Truly they pour in their own filth, they immerse in mires, they cover themselves with mud. As per Horace (Letters 1.2.26):

And the friend of filth, pigs.

[26] This is also smut or foulness. Pigs' hair is called bristly and hair of the sow: it is called this especially by shoemakers, the likes of which hair and hide they are used to, that is accustomed to, working with."
(St Isidore of Seville, Etymologiae 12:23-26)

Back To Top
Recordings

Latin:



Modern English:



Back To Top
First Thoughts

So, what we have here is a quick write up about the hare and its habits, launching into the pig and its thorough association with filth. Knowing that these sorts of medieval encyclopedias were a mash-up of original and "borrowed" material does something to explain the order in which Isidore is treating animals, but it remains curious.

Back To Top
On Connections

The connection between deer and rabbits is their timidity. This makes good sense, as the end of the passage on deer is indeed a quotation about that very quality.

But, then what's the connection between the rabbit and the sow or pig? Is it that the pig roots around in the ground for food as the dog does for the rabbit? It seems like that's the case - unless the connection (if there even is one) is based on the fact that both animals live quite a bit of their lives in the dirt.

What's also curious is that only the pig's skin is mentioned as something used by a profession. Rabbits would've been fairly plentiful in Isidore's part of the world, but it seems the fur didn't have much value. Certainly, no one was "accustomed to" ("suant" or "consuant" (12:26)) using it.

I guess pigskin wasn't so much what was kicked in those days as it was that with which you kicked.

Back To Top
On Pigs

The association between pigs and filth, mud, and smut is something that St. Isidore seems particularly intent on getting across. Why exactly is unclear. Though, if the animal itself is so filthy, then why is its skin so commonly used for leather?

Inhering in his entry on pigs is there some kind of commentary on the commoner's choice of footwear material? Or is it just that St. Isidore is emphasizing the pig's uncleanliness in order to make it more obvious that all creatures have a purpose when he reveals that the pig is what the shoemaker is used to using?

It's a curious question, but one that can't be grasped if we look only at the words of the Etymologiae. Nonetheless, a guess is that St. Isidore is just reporting what he's found here, perhaps trying to make people remember their humble connections to this humble animal.

What's most surprising, though, is that he doesn't even mention how tasty the pig can be. Ah well, probably not a lot of room in the life of a bishop to have copious amounts of an animal sliced into strips and fried up to celebrate the birth of a savior.

Back To Top
Closing

Check back here Thursday evening for the telling of Beowulf's rousing the dragon (Ch.XXXV, ll.2542-2553).

Back To Top

Wacky Swimmers and Shaggy Shoulders [12:19-22] (Latin)

Introduction
Translation
Recording
First Thoughts
Physical Traits
The Martial
Closing

{A stag testing the depths. Image from The Gutenberg Project eBook of Aesop's Fables}

Introduction

St. Isidore talks more of deer today. His differentiation between them gets so fine, in fact, that their Modern English equivalent is simply "deer."

Back To Top
Translation

[19]"Their upright ears miss no sound, no matter how low. And when they swim over vast rivers or seas they feel no extra labour, they put their head in first and then alternately dip it and then their buttocks into the water.
[20]"Tragelaphi is the Greek name for them, which, although they are like hinds, have shaggy shoulders like the he-goat, and from their chin a long beard, which no other around the river of Colchis have.
[21]"Fawns (hinnuleus) are the sons of these deer (called such from "to give a nod to" (innuere), referring to the tottering that they leave behind at maturity).
[22]"Deer they are called which flee from hands: a timid and non-warlike animal; from which Martial:
"Why oh deer, who defends by horn, do you all fear the boar's tusk, take no prey?"
(St. Isidore of Seville, Etymologiae 12:19-22)

Back To Top
Recording

Here's the above section of the Etymologiae in Latin:



And in Modern English:



Back To Top
First Thoughts

So, much like Beowulf's speech in last Thursday's entry, this description of the deer is quite straightforward. The two things that stick out are the description of the deer's long-range swimming style, and Isidore's quotation of Martial.

Back To Top
Physical Traits

The description of their swimming style is curious for its vividness. Literally, he says that they alternate between dipping their head and their buttocks in the water, as if they propel themselves by an extreme alternating motion.

In fact, it's a very vivid description of swimming not just by moving the hind and fore legs, but instead by moving the whole body. It comes across as a kind of undulation that would give the animals more propulsion through the water.

Their comparison with he-goats is also interesting, but sadly nothing more is said than that they share the shagginess of their shoulders. Perhaps there was a significance to this that was common place and well known, maybe shaggy shoulders signified stubbornness or that an animal possessed hidden strength?

Back To Top
The Martial

And then we come to the quotation of Martial. Perhaps this is included because to the medieval mind the deer's horns, though thinner, were multiple, and so the deer itself was regarded as stronger than a boar (with it's mere two tusks).

But, it seems that the deer's fear of the boar in spite of its antlers is another aspect of the animal that adds to its aura of grace and greatness.

For the deer is perceived as an animal that, despite being so heavily armed, prefers to flee than to fight - but not in a clumsy way (they outgrow that, after all). When described as "alternately dip[ing] [their head] and then their buttocks into the water," ("capita clunibus praecedentium superponunt sibique invicem succedentes" 12:19) these graceful deer may sound a little goofy, but to contemporary ears, it perhaps suggested that the deer had a greater understanding of how to move its body in the most effective way possible.

Back To Top
Closing

On Thursday check back for Beowulf's commands to his men, and the first few steps towards the fight with the dragon.

Back To Top

St. Isidore's En-deer-ing Take on a Natural Pharmacist [12:16-18] (Latin)

Translation
Spoken Versions
Thoughts on Deer
An Unexpected Discovery
Closing

{It's true - things were bigger in the past. Image from the National Library of the Netherlands Medieval Illuminated Manuscripts Collection}

St. Isidore wastes no time shifting to a new class of animal, so let's not waste any time getting to what he's got to say:


Translation

[16] "Likewise the deer; also ibexes, avice as it were, those that appear as the birds amidst the hills and hold to heights and live in the acme of the mountains, so that they are rarely open to the human gaze.
[17] "From whence they are called bird ibexes in the southern parts, [birds] that live by the Nile river. This animal also, so called, dwells in the high rocks; and if they sense danger by human or by chase, they escape unhurt to the high mountains where they sharpen their own horns beforehand.
[18] "Deer are called "Apo Ton Keraton," he is of horn; "Kerata" is truly what the Greeks call horns. This animal has the serpent as an enemy yet it can anticipate the severe injury from it, but it draws the spirit out from its nostrils in its caves, they overcome this terrible venom by their food. For dittany is known to them; that they use while in the field to shake off that poison. Moreover they wonderfully hiss as panpipes do."
(St. Isidore of Seville, Etymologiae 12:16-18)

Back To Top
Spoken Versions

In an effort to bring these dead languages new life, here's the above in spoken Latin:



And in spoken English:



Back To Top
Thoughts on Deer

Now, unfortunately there's not as much lore in this passage as there's been in recent weeks.

But, there's at least an implication that deer are revered as quasi-sacred animals since the height of their homes is emphasized.

The fact that they also know of the curative properties of wild marjoram ("dittany," or the Latin "dictamnum") also suggests that they've got a measure of intelligence that goes beyond that of most other animals. Underwriting this implication about deer is Isidore's use of "ipsi" "self, himself, herself, etc." in the sentence about dittany being "known to them" ("prodiderunt"). This wording makes it plain that the deer have figured this out on their own.

And then there's the strange mention of the deer's hissing sounding like panpipes ("fistularum," or "bagpipes, tubes, panpipes"). Maybe such a high pitched sound is supposed to further highlight the deer's harmonious state in its natural place. Or maybe it's supposed to gently disprove pagan belief in satyrs, since there's a natural explanation within the bounds of Christian creation.

Back To Top
An Unexpected Discovery

Fairly unrelated to all this talk of deer is a discovery made away from the translated page.

The word "avices" wasn't turning anything up in the Collins Gem Latin Dictionary used for reference, so the words around where it should be were poked at. Among these words is "Avernus," which refers to a lake that was "believed to be an entrance to the lower world" (according to the Dictionary's definition).

It doesn't seem to be related to the hall of Grendel and Grendel's mother in Beowulf, but the idea that a lake and not just a cave could lead to the lower world suggests a Roman precedent for the underwater hall of the epic. Undoubtedly there are also precedents in Germanic myth and lore, but this one from the Romans (Virgil uses it as this in the Aeneid) is indeed curious.

Perhaps the Romans spread this story amongst the Britons and those living in the Roman-occupied British Isles?

Perhaps those stories were then passed around and eventually picked up by a Briton poet or scop ([shaw-op] Old English for "poet") savvy enough to know that underwater halls were already popular with/known to his new patrons?

Tracking that sort of historical progression is tricky - but that's just what makes it so fascinating.

Back To Top
Closing

Like that hypothetical scop, Beowulf also minds his words in this week's passage from the poem as he makes the bulk of his war-boast before at last going into the barrow. Check back on Thursday for it!

Back To Top

Edible Kids, Lust-Eyed He-Goats, and Eccentric She-Goats [12:13-15] (Latin)

Translation
On Kids
He-Goats
She-Goats
Conclusion

Goats and she goats are St. Isidore's topic this week, and there are, as with last week's section on lambs and sheep, some curious bits of lore thrown in with his definitions.

{Can't you just see the lust in those eyes? Image from the CR4 article "Is Going Green Getting Your Goat?"}

Translation

[13]"Kids {"haedus"} are so named for eating {"edulare"}. For the small are the fattest and of a delightful taste, from whence [and to eat, from whence] comes the word for edible.

[14]"The he-goat is a truly lascivious animal and a butter and always eager for sex; and we can see lust lying across its eye, from whence its name {"hircus"} is drawn. For the eyes of the he-goat are angular as it is in the second book of Suetonius (Prat 171); whose nature is indeed the hottest like diamond stone, material which neither fire nor iron is able to break into, and which blood alone can dissolve. Many he-goats are called Cinyphri for the river Cinyphrus in Libya, where many were born.

[15] "We call she-goats and she-goats* {capra} for their nibbling {carpo}
of thickets. Others are caught bitterly. Some rattle the blood, from which they can be called rattlers; which are wild she goats, which for the Greeks are sharp to look upon, they are called by them 'Oksuderkesteron durka.' In fact, they are seen in the height of mountains, and ever so of those in the distance, however all come that far nevertheless."
(Book 12:13-15 of St. Isidore of Seville's Etymologiae)
(*This phrase caused me difficulty since the Latin is "capros et capras," which suggests male and female "she-goats.")

Back To Top
On Kids

"Kid's are so named for eating." Out of context, this could be a terrifying statement. And even in context, it's not entirely clear automatically.

On the one hand, it makes sense that you would want to fatten an animal up before eating it. On the other, if you're eating all of the young of an animal (the textbook definition of "kid"), then how are you to get more of the adults? A certain degree of moderation must've been practiced by people of that age.

Or maybe, since the kids are also known to have a "pleasing/delightful taste" they were saved for special occasions only.

But alas, St. Isidore doesn't pause to give us such a detail. Instead, he plunges ahead into the realm of lust and cheap casinos. Or, well, maybe just lust.

Yes, he moves onto he-goats ("hircus").

Back To Top
He-Goats

One question that comes up immediately on reading this passage is, why does lust live laying across the eye? Or, if you translate "transversus" differently, the corner of the eye? This could be a reference to the slitted pupil of the goat, or perhaps to an idea that lust wasn't something generally conveyed with a direct look, but instead a glance out of the corner of an eye.

Maybe, in such a situation, if such a glance went unchecked by the glancer and the glancer turned to get a full look of what lust had pulled his or her attention to, then it would become full blown desire.

In the ancient world there was also a belief that a person's gaze was more of a beam than a passive receiver of information, so maybe such a direct look was also associated with things like Cupid's arrows. They could be pulled from a quiver (the sidelong glance) and then fired at the victim (the object of the full on look) and maybe there'd be return fire or the shot would just be deflected and all for naught. It'd be great if there's some love poetry that uses such warlike imagery. A find like that would really cement this connection.

When St. Isidore compares the goat's fiery nature to the impenetrable nature of diamonds a few more questions might be raised.

Why compare something like an animal's nature to a diamond in terms of hardness?

Did having a "hard nature" carry the same meaning that it does today, stubborn and wanton, difficult to really get along with?

That "fire and iron" represent the greatest forces that St. Isidore can describe in single words is also curious, since the martial influence is again visible. And that sort of influence is quite clear in the verb "domare" (meaning to tame, break into, conquer). It's interesting how even 1300 years ago sex and violence were associated with each other.

And speaking of sex, the characteristics that St. Isidore attributes to she goats are also intriguing (partially because the Latin seems especially dense here).

Back To Top
She-Goats

The fact that they "rattle" is definitely something lost in translation - much like how "kids are so named for eating." A good guess is that she-goats are noisy, in that they rattle their voices, or bleat, frequently.

What's out and out weird, is the way that St. Isidore describes she-goats as being seen in the high and far mountains but only by those who bother to look. What does this even mean? That the wild she goats are so plentiful in Greece that they just go unnoticed? Or are she-goats taking on a more spiritual meaning here?

Back To Top
Conclusion

If you've got some ideas about what St. Isidore is talking about when it comes to she-goats' travel habits, or if you know of any warlike love poetry from the 7th century or earlier, simply let me know in a comment.

And check back Thursday for the continuation of Beowulf's boasting about his deeds and for a clear statement about what he's going to do with his sword and the dragon's hoard.

Back To Top

sheep!...Sheep! - Sheep! [12: 10-12] (Latin)

{A woolly one on the green. From the Netherland National Library's Collection.}

Following up on his explanation of the differences between pack animals and herd animals - leaving off with the fact that "families" prefer to use goats/sheep for their sacrifices - St. Isidore explains a little bit more about this wondrous animal: the sheep.

Before getting to the translation, however, it must be pointed out that "families" is just one way to translate "gentilis."

The almost automatic translation is "Gentile," which may work, but the English translation of the Etymologiae that I use as a loose base text renders it "pagan." To combine this with the Collins Pocket Gem Latin Dictionary's translation of "family," the word "gentilis" will be translated as "pagan clan" from here on out.

Now, without further ado, this week's translation:

"[10] Wethers, also called males, which are stronger than other sheep; or which are virile, that is of masculine gender; or which have worms in their heads, which excite them by itching to strike each other with mutual force, and to carry out fights with great energy.

[11] Ares or [apo tou areos], that is Mars, these are called; so they are called manly in the flock by us or if that flock belongs to a pagan clan, the ram is first among the flock sacrificed. For the ram is placed on the altars by them. From whence it is: (Sedul. 1,115):

'Upon the altar sacrifice the ram.'

[12] Lambs in Greek are called [apo tou agnou], as if holy, Latins on the other hand believe that the animal is so named for this reason, for compared with other animals it knows its mother; so that if ever it gets lost in a large flock, it immediately knows its parents by the call of their bleating."
(St. Isidore of Seville's Etymologiae: 12: 10-12)

(N.B.: the parts in square brackets are given in Ancient Greek: a dead language that I have yet to try my hand at.)

Where to start with this one? There's the worms that, St. Isidore writes, are the reason for rams butting each others' heads; there's the weird reference to a mysterious work that clearly names rams as sacrifices; and there's the etymology of the Latin word for lamb: "agnus."

The beginning is always good.

The idea that worms cause a great itching on rams' heads and this drives them to fight, is pure medieval bestiary material.

Completely wild ideas, but completely interesting, to boot. What's most interesting about this idea though, is that it suggests that sheep are naturally harmonious. It isn't that they butt their heads against trees to help soothe their itching heads, but they butt each other's heads with "mutual force" ("invicem se concutiunt"). There's a sense that these animals help each other out.

Even if this explanation for rams charging at each other is fantastical, it's curious that such camaraderie is ascribed to sheep.

That these animals are also the ones that "Sedul." dictates for sacrifice follows from this perception of sheep, no doubt. After all, why sacrifice any old animal?

If an animal has special value to humans it will be worth more amongst them. But if an animal seems to have a society going on that is similar to human society (considered the apex of all creation at this time), that must mean that within the cosmos the animal has a worth near that of humans. So, if you're not going to sacrifice humans, why not sacrifice the next best thing - animals that help each other out.

Better yet, why not sacrifice animals that also show an inherent recognition of family?

The etymology for the Latin word for lamb, "agnus," adds to this picture of sheep as a human-like animal, at least as far as values go. The word's ascribed origin (the Latin word "agnosco," meaning "to know") also reflects the animal's apparently Christian values - harmonious living among brethren and being aware of family. In particular, Isidore's description of a lamb recognizing its parents by the sound of their voice ("statim balatu recognoscat vocem parentis" 12.12) is rather reminiscent of the tripartite holy family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

What's perplexing though, is that sheep are so fixated on here.

Don't calves know their mothers? Don't foals?

Why are sheep so elevated as to have an etymology relating them to the Latin word "agnosco" meaning "to know"? Another, related question, is how "agnosco" morphed into the modern English "agnostic."

At any rate, sheep might be so highly regarded and focused on simply because they could continuously provide. Year after year they could be sheared, some could be milked, and some could be slaughtered; so year after year they would provide food *and* clothing.

It's hyperbolic, but that sheep give material for clothing and food turns the Chinese proverb "A warm coat is better than a fully belly" on its ear, since sheep could provide both. Couple that with their perceived cosmic value, and you've got a super animal.

What do you think about Isidore's ideas of sheep? Feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments.

So, can St. Isidore best himself as he starts to write of goats? Find out next week!

Before that, though, this week sees Beowulf wrapping up his history lesson and moving into a demonstration of effective boasting. Check back Thursday for it!