Seven Lines for Book the Seventh

Tu quoque litoribus nostris, Aeneia nutrix

aeternam moriens famam, Caieta, dedisti;

et nunc servat honos sedem tuus ossaque nomen

Hesperia in magna, siqua est ea gloria, signat.

At pius exsequiis Aeneas rite solutis,

aggere composito tumuli, postquam alta quierunt

aequora, tendit iter velis portumque relinquit.

- Aen. 7.1-7

 Book Seven is the more Iliadic latter half of the Aeneid, the portion just past the sections required for grades; in this way it is much like Doctor Seuss' On Beyond Zebra. The first four lines form an epigram. Aeneid Book Seven is a beginning, just not the beginning. As a beginnig, it must observe the conventions of that position, at least in part.

The first line of Book Seven violates the standard pattern of the ending of the dactylic hexameter line by ending in two spondees rather than a dactyl and spondee. The end of a line is an important location for identifying the meter of a poem; without establishing and reconfirming the predetermined meter, poetry devolves into elevated prose. Such a break in the standard pattern here, therefore, in such a prominent position, must have a purpose. Virgil establishes this intentionality in line five, which not only carries the right pattern of dactyl and spondee, but even contains the phrase rite solutis "after they had been done properly." Thus the Watsonian sense of proper funeral rites and the Doylist of continuing the narrative are resolved.

The first four lines of Book Seven form two couplets, since the couplet is the appopriate number of lines for the epigrammatic tradition. The first of these couplets in composed of the first two lines, These lines are an invocatio, an invocation of Aeneas' nurse Caieta, hitherto unmentioned and probably eponymous with a local coast feature. The Roman and the Greeks loved words, but to say that they understood linguistics would be lie. The first line begins with tu quoque "thou also," suggesting that addressee as someone known to the original audience. The spondaic conclusion of the line, Aeneia nutrix "nurse of Aeneas," further supports a known identity. Yet this nurse, Caieta, has not received a single mention in the preceding six books! The nurse of Aeneas appears posthumously like that of Dido, but at least she recieves a name, like that of Anna! Caieta's death provides eternal fame. This contrast is mortality is fitting in the transition between Book Six, in which Aeneas spent most of his time in the Underworld with the Sibyl, and the rest of Book Seven, in which he has returned to the upper world. The mention of a mortal rather than an immortal indicates that this is not true invocatio, which would require a goddess, Muse, or august patron close to the divine. On a more grammatical angle, the phrase litoribus nostris is probably either locational with an elided preposition or else a direct object of dedisti. Also note the alliterative alternation of a and n in nostris Aeneia nutrix/aeternam.

The preferred alliteration in the second couplet switches out a for s. The second couplet also switches from second person to third and from perfect tense to present. The bones of Caieta now receive honor in Italy. It is notably, however, that the word for Italy is the poetic synonym Hesperia and the form of honor is archaic honos. Both could be the result of internal and line-initial alliteration and assonance, but honor and Italia would fit the meter equally well. The final portion of the funerary epigram contains an element of memento mori in siqua est ea gloria "if this is any kind of glory." This sentiment is appropriate for a funerary epigram, but it also indicate the vacillation of the hero Aeneas, who continually turns over matters in his mind, whether or not the other Trojans know.

Caieta's brief appearance is also an indicator, a prefiguration of the many characters who will appear in this half of the Aeneid only to die at the hands of a mightier or more plot-relevant warrior. The manner in which Caieta brought fame to Italy remains unknown.

The next three lines of Book Seven are a series of three clauses related to past actions followed by a generic statement, Their unity can be measured by the alliteration of a in the first words of each line - at, aggere, and aequora - as well as the structure of the three clauses. The first two clauses are ablative absolutes, while the third is a temporal clause with postquam. Aeneas, here given his epithet of pius Aeneas, is the grammatical subject of the main verb relinquit, but the ablative absolutes exclude him and the calming of the sea was not his doing. The final past tense subordinate clause is bound to the main clause in the similarity of postquam alta quierunt and portumque relinquit. Not only do they posess an identical metrical pattern, a similarity insufficient by itself for argument, but they also contain an identical consonant inventory. The only consonant present in the sixth line and absent in the sevent in the s of postquam. Both portions start with p and contain t as the third consonant. The phrases alta quierunt and relinquit are almost anagrams. The -am of postquam is elided according to the rules of Latin poetry, but both lines contain a nasal consonant - n in the former and m in the latter.

The actions in the latter three lines are not just third person, but third person narration in the past leading to the present. Both quierunt and relinquit reinforce the temporal change. Aeneas has performed the rites correctly; he has built the burial mound; the sea has become calm.

The combination of the funeral rites, calm sea, and the sailing forth is a reminder of the opening of the Trojan War, of which the Iliad related a part. Aeneas is a better man than Agamemnon, however, whom his former analogue Odysseus witnesses in his own catabasis. The member of the family for whom Aeneas mourns is his beloved nurse rather than his daughter cruelly deceived. The resulting departure, however, leads to wars for both men.

The first seven lines of Book Seven of the Aeneid are a complex work. The first four lines are a funerary epigram combined with a false invocatio and covert refrences to prior nunrses and mental states, The next tree lines are a tightly composed triplet to move the story to the next point. The use of alliteration and assonance helps to define each section. When both sections come together, the seven lines from a reference to the beginning of the Trojan War, an apposite reference for the Iliadic half of the Aeneid.

Searchers of the Flower Moon

 A piece of trivia easily passed over in the grim Killers of the Flower Moon is the reference to a Scout troop aiding in the search for the missing woman. This is not a Boy Scouts of America troop, because the incident occurred in 1909, far away from New York City. Instead, the group must have used Baden-Powell's Scouting for Boys. The Osage reservation was not near any major cities, but the book had been around for five years, so there is no difficulty in believing that someone had brought the book to Oklahoma. Furthermore, youth organizations such the Sons of Daniel Boone and the Woodcraft Indians already existed. The former organization's very name suggests that it would not have found purchase on the reservation; the latter organization would be more likely, as both it and the YMCA's Indian Guides appropriated - with the aid of the white founders' indigenous friends - local cultures. 

Yet the sociopolitical situation of the Osage indicates why Scouting for Boys rather than The Birch Bark Roll would be the book adopted. The Osage, through the carelessness of the Oklahomans and a touch of serendipity, had come int money and had begun to adopt the white man's sedentary ways. Such a change always risks the loss of traditional skills and knowledge, an abandonment of historical manliness. The potential loss of manly virtue was a driving force in the growth of youth organizations among the white and increasingly urban population of the United States. Although the racist element of this concern could have been absent among the Osage, the use of a book about Scouting and woodcraft written by white man would have been a socially acceptable way of preserving indigenous tradition. The history of Scouting may have an official reason to pass over this Osage troop, but its existence should be included in the greater history of the movement within the United States. Perhaps other indigenous nations or overlooked minorities have more tales to tell of Scouts in action!

Genoa: One Hell of An American Town

 Genoa, Nevada (pronounced je-NO-a) might be the most American town ever, right down to its assocation with the most American religion ever. Genoa was founded as Mormon Station by Latter Day Saints, but it was more than just a town. It was a strategic outpost in the church's claim to the great and powerful state of Deseret stretching from Salt Lake to the Pacific Ocean. The Saint, like many despised religious minorities, utilized trade as a way to become indispensable to their enemies. The settlers who reached the base of the Sierra Nevada would be less discriminate about heretics and blasphemers in order to replenish their supplies. The mixture of religion and empire could not have been more American. 

The road to wealth shifted north after the discovery of the Comstock lode, a mass of silver named after a man whose cultural relevance would flatter his ego. The Saints were recalled to fight - and lose - the Utah War against the United States government, The pragmatism born of this experience correlates well with the future of this town, renamed Genoa in the wake of antebellum hostility to the Saints of God - the name Mormon Station seemed less friendly after the growing consciousness by Gentiles of Mormon elite polygamy. The local Washo no doubt did not appreciate the racial theology of the Church, but the white settlers, even the Gentiles, would not have cared.

The town of Genoa suffered the fate of nearly all strategic settlements and many genre books - passed over for the new exciting places such as Virginia City, the Disneyland of ghost towns. Genoa was still, however, on a critical trade route. Its most ephemeral instance might be its most famous - the Pony Express. The Pony Express lasted less than a year, eclipsed by the railroad, but its media portrayal in the Young Riders lasted thrice as long - much like the eleven-year Korean War in the universe of MASH. Distorting the past to reflect on the present is not unique to America. It is, however, quite popular.

Genoa also had the honor of experiencing another of America's small town pasttimes - budget woes. When the town installed the first streetlight, the annual budget was already settled - it did not include the nineteenth century equivalent of high speed rail. The splendidly name Mrs.Virgin, therefore, recruited her friends to have a bake sale to fund the light. This instance of necessity became an annual tradition and quickly turned into a party. You can still attend.

Genoa had another brush with fame when a local boy made good at the Chicago World's Fair, the birthplace of American industrial miracles, Mr. Ferris had observed the water wheel in Genoa and thought "what if I made it bigger and more fun?" The American obsession with size is not just a contemporary phenomenon. There were many challenges to the construction of the first Ferris Wheel in the wastelands of Chicago - metal fatigue and frozen mud being foremost. Yet he succeeded in creating one of the most iconic fairground rides of early twentieth century America.

Genoa also experienced the youth-oriented aspect of America the Great - inadequate education, The lack of schooling perturbed some of the ladies of the great town of Genoa, so a brief academy was established before a true school system could exist. The old courthouse eventually became the schoolhouse, a circumstance about which the students therein no doubt made many tasteless jokes.

Just as the fortunes of Genoa shifted with the times, so too, early on, did the boundary. The initial placement of the boundary marker between California and Nevada in Genoa was deemed inaccurate. The original surveyor, therefore, moved it, but not very far and not up the mountain slope. Perhaps we should not be too harsh on him, since there were many errors, accidental and intentional, in establishing boundaries of territory and state.

Genoa reflects the quirks, both good and bad, of the American experience, from the Latter Day Saints to boom and bust economies to shortfalls in education and utilities to the local boy who gave his name to something famous. If any of these aspects intrigues you, I urge you to visit Genoa yourself. If you enjoyed this or have any comments or questions, feel free to contact me. There is much I have omitted and I would love to talk more about this corner of the world.

Catalectic Converter: An Ode to Dactylic Hexameter

 If you want to read, recite, and interpret dactylic hexameter, the meter of Latin epic poetry, if not the native form, you must first understand how it works. The traditional account is as follows: the name dactylic hexameter tells us about important details for its construction. 'Dactylic' indicates that it is composed of dactyls, a metrical unit of one long followed by two shorts. 'Hexameter' indicates that this pattern repeats six times to create a single line of dactylic hexameter. Yet this sextuple repetition is not reflected in the canonical line of dactylic hexameter, which ends in a spondee, a pair of longs. Most of the feet of the hexameter can change from dactyl to spondee, except the fifth and penultimate. This foot must remain dactylic to reinforce the nature of the meter. Very rarely is this consistency breached and even more rarely at the beginning of a section. If the nature of the meter requires reinforcement, why does the last foot of the hexameter not fulfill this role? The final foot of one line and the initial of the next are often bound by grammatical enjambment. Even the use of an extrametrical syllable to tie them together is not sufficient, since the vowel always undergoes elision. The neophyte Latinist learns that the sixth and last foot is a spondee. The last vowel of the final syllable which is pronounced would be short or long in prose; but it is always treated as long in scansion. Most of the time this default intervention does no harm. Sometimes, however, the natural length of the vowel is significant. 

There is a better way to analyze dactylic hexameter, a way in which a journeyy through complexity creates a more thorough understanding. Dactylic hexameter is not merely dactylic hexameter; it is dactylic hexameter catalectic. What does 'catalectic' mean? Catalexis, and its adjective catalectic, is metrical circumcision, the omission of the last syllable. The identity of the meter as dactylic is confirmed by the spondee rather than a single long syllable, while the placement of the syllable at the end of the line is established by the final long syllable, irrespective of any condition which migh force an otherwise short syllable to be treated as long.

This possibility of long or short, sometimes called 'anceps', at the end of a line of dactylic hexameter is one of the mechanisms to vary a potentially soporific metrical pattern. It is also a reminder that the terms first presented to learners are simplified version of the whole rather than the only way in which one can view such a phenomenon.

King and Consuls

         The passage in Book 6 of the Aeneid where Anchises presents the souls of future Roman kings and consuls (6.809-19) is a reprise and expansion of the initial lines of the Aeneid (1.1-12), thereby connecting Aeneas' foundation with the latter one. The character of Aeneas is distributed among his descendants.

        The base level of comparison is repetition of words used in the opening of the poem, although differing in case and number. Romulus, the first king of Rome (pace Titus Tatius), is excluded from this list because he is mentioned at the end of the Alban line, rather than at the beginning of the Roman. This omission also releases a spot for Brutus, the first consul. The first king, therefore, who is mentioned, is Numa Pompilius. Anchises introduces Numa as the Roman king "primam qui legibus urbem / fundabit," "he who will provide the early city with laws" or "he who will first provide the city with laws." The first two words occur after the caesura, similar to the "qui primus" of the first line of the poem (1.1), but in inverse order. The clause in Book 1 refers to Numa, an immigrant like Aeneas, establishing the rites of the new city. Numa, similar to Aeneas, exists in the dawn of urban history and therefore is "missus in imperium magnum" "sent toward great empire" (6.813) rather than as a witness to that imperial glory. Numa's successor, Tullus Hostilius, provides the martial valor which the aged ("incana menta",grey beard hairs", 6.809) Numa lacks. This absence is reflected in the word "in arma viros" "men to arms" (6.814), which remind the audience of the first words of the poem "arma virumque" "arms and a man" (1.1).  The next king mentioned, Ancus Martius, is "jactantior" "boastful," a comparative - and active - form related to the passive "jactatus" "tossed" of the opening (1.3). This also serves as the moral descent of the kings, since Ancus takes too great a pleasure in "popularibus auris" (?.?), "the ears of the people>" 

        The Tarquins pere et fils are connected to the initial verses by "vis ... superbam" (6.817), which echoes "vi superum" (1.4) in the fourth line. Both words are not directly connected but "vis" is from "volo," the verb of wishing and wanting, while "superbam" is from an adjective meaning "proud" or "arrogant" depending on context. "Vi" is from the word for "force," while "superum" is a word for the gods above. Tarquinius Superbus, were he real, no doubt used the positive meaning of his epithet; he certainly believed his word was law. What one wants and what is just are the same thing! Tarquinius Superbus' downfall came when he violated the laws of the gods by assaulting his cousin's wife as a form of force, and by "vi superum," "the force of the divine," he lost his kingdom. The "animam superbam," "proud spirit" (6.817) belongs to Brutus rather than Superbus, but the audience does not know this until the enjambment, and the negative interpretation suits Superbus. The "animam superbam" of Brutus is that of positive aspect, but Brutus adopts the authority and the emblems thereof of the deposed kings and therefore warrants inclusion on the list of leaders. Brutus, as the first consul, receives his own "primus" (6.819) to echos the first line; his passage also includes a description of the fasces as "saevas securis" "savage axes" (6.819), which serves to connect him with the "saevam iram" of Juno rather than Aeneas, perhaps an odd choice for one who overthrew the previous ruler for daring to trespass the boundary of divine law. The rebellion ("nova bella," 6.820) of Brutus' sons reminds the attentive of "bello passus," "suffering in war" (1.5), but Brutus displays loyalty to gods and country by executing his own blood. The summary of this list of kings and consuls states that "vincet amor patriae laudumque immensa cupido," "love of fatherland and the great desire for praise will conquer" (6.823). Although neither "amor" nor "cupido" are words in the opening lines, they are both names for Venus' godly son, in a context where Venus is not mentioned because only Romulus, here excluded, is of her line.

        It may be going too far to suggest the Aeneas' personality is a conglomeration of the equally mythical kings of Rome, but there are striking parallels. Aeneas, like Numa, brings the gods who bring prosperity to a city which lacks them. Aeneas, like Tullus, will lead his weary travelers into battle. Aeneas, like Ancus, must beware the sway of popular opinion despite his constant doubt and deliberation. Aeneas, like the Tarquins, must resist the temptation to think himself above the gods. Aeneas, like Brutus, must place state above family and familiar affection.

        The passage of Book 6 in which the Roman leaders are presented is a callback to the very first lines of the epic in exact words, related words, and in theme. The first lines of an epic are its thesis statement; the use of same or similar words in reference to other individuals universalizes the principles, The use of same or similar themes shows that these principles are displayed under diverse circumstances, no matter which mythical era, is inspirational to the real Romans and the real ruler of the Imperium.

Deogratias: A Tale of Rwanda (TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNING: Everything Re: Racial Genocide)

Deogratias: A Tale of Rwanda, by Jean-Philippe Stassen, is a graphic novel that deals with the genocide of my youth. Not one which I personally experienced, but one which I read about the newspapers and discussed in the library/sitting room of my private high school. I do not, however, believe that my security relieves of a duty to understand it. Sadly, there are so many wars and rumors of war that even the most conscientious cannot attend to them all; and if one could, there would be others who would find fault in attention here rather than there, where their passions were consumed.

Deogratias is set, as its subtitle indicates, in Rwanda in the nineties. The principal character, Deogratias, is a Hutu orphan in the care of French missionaries. His life experience, as well as his schooling, is warping him into a creature of hate, visually rendered as  a quasi-bestial form, a street dog. He is mistreated by the Tutsi for being a Hutu and by the Hutu for livng among the Tutsi. This establishes Deogratias as a tragic character, a view confirmed by the scenes after the genocide and return of his former protector. Already in his adolescence, he is a drunk. 

Deogratias loves, or believes he is in love with, Apollinaria, the daughter of a Tutsi sex worker Venetia and Brother Philip, one of the missionaries; Apollinaria's other sister, Benina, does not know her father due to her mother's line of work. Deogratias' impulse control has been weakened by alcoholism and abuse, so his understanding of consent is minimal. None of the three youths, whose options as an urchin, a mulatto, and a whore's daughter were already limited, have a chance; the poison of racial rhetoric has already sparked one war in Venetia's generation. The path to exile is blocked by the indifference and self-preservation of the alleged protector.

Before the genocide begins, Deogratias' unreciprocated lust for Apollinaria is sated, at least partly, by Benina's curiosity. Deogratias' interest in Apollinaria is attributed, admittedly by an unreliable character, to have a racial component, since this character calls mixed race women "the refined stuff" (p. 71), Apollinaria, as half-white and virginal, has a purity to which Deogratias cannot attain.

All the suffering and addiction of Deogratias make him an easy target for military recruitment. The war shatters what little is left of Deogratias' psyche, leaving him nothing but an agent of destruction and pain. Death is what he does, both in the war and after.

Deogratias is a grim read. If you are going to read it, I suggest you plan to journal or discuss or both. Sitting in silent contemplation may be useful, but eventually one must express the results thereof.

Andre Norton: The Gate of the Cat

Andre Norton's The Gate of the Cat is subtitled "Return to Witch World." It also serves as an entry point for new readers, such as yours truly, who picked it up off a hotel lobby shelf alongside a cruelly deceptive The Mote in God's Eye which lacked the first 162 pages (not even a chapter break!). The pace is fast, and the initial impression is that of an apocalyptic landscape akin to Return to Oz and many other iterations and adaptations of the Oz franchise. As a new reader, it is clear that the world is worse off than before, but also unknown how apocalyptic the world was prior to the witches reshaping the world. Our heroine, Kelsie MacBlair, a hunter with principles, arrives in Witch World via the standard standing stones method. Although some might find the brief inability to communicate fast tracked by telepathy cliched, the acknowledgement that the inhabitants of the world of adventure are not speaking English is welcome, It may be too much to ask for more than one language. The narrative has a quick pace and too many species to introduce, so sometimes it feels more like an "World of Witch World" encyclopedia in narrative form. Even there, a bit more exposition of the names of species and places would have helped. The conceit of Witch World is "lost knowledge of the Old Ones," so perhaps some of these lack their true names, but the books established to exist in this world must call them something! The prose is plain and economical, urging the reader on rather than encouraging lingering. The Gate of Cat is clearly the beginning of a new cycle of adventure, since it introduces a new outside protagonist while also providing a fully resolved plot in case it is the only book of the cycle, but it would be better, if this were one's first exposure to Witch World and if one liked it, to start at the beginning.