Love’s contradictions: Catullus on the agony of infatuation
psyche.co
psyche.co
- Catullus 16, which might be the oldest thing that we could properly call a diss track: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catullus_16
- Catullus 45, a poem about two lovers that's proof people have always had an appetite for camp: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catullus_45
- Catullus 46, an earnest, wistful poem about breaking camp with the arrival of spring and bidding the former strangers, now friends, goodbye as you all pursue the aims that brought you together in the first place: https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Translation:Catullus_46
This view is a bit disingenuous. There's been diss tracks as long as mankind has been singing and writing poems. While Catullus 16 is very famous, there's much earlier examples. The greek counterpart to Catullus may be, for example, Hipponax of Ephesus [0], who wrote celebrated "diss tracks" six centuries before him. But still, a lot of ancient greek comedy can be understood as unrestricted verbal abuse to concrete people of the time.
Thanks lgessler, interesting further reading.
I studied them in my high school Latin class. There were just 12 of us in the class. Due to a bad strain of flu that winter, our final test on Catullus was postponed 4 times as various people were home sick. By the time everyone was back in class, we had studied them so thoroughly we knew many of the poems off by heart...
So 34 years later, I can still recite "Odi et amo, fortasse requiris, ..." and "Sirmio, gem of islands and peninsulas, ..." [peninsula = paenae insula = almost an island :)].
Another interesting side to Catullus comes from the music of Carl Orff. He is of course the composer of Carmina Burana, a collection of medieval drinking songs, with the most famous being O Fortuna! [1]. He also set Catullus's poems to music, in his Carmina Catulli [2]. [3] is a version with the musical score in the background.
Here are two other Catullus resources for anyone wanting to learn more:
* Bilingual edition by Peter Green - Latin and English on opposite pages: https://www.amazon.com/Poems-Catullus-Bilingual-Gaius-Valeri...
* Wikipedia has a very good list of all Catullus's poems: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_poems_by_Catullus
[1] https://youtu.be/GRjyxr1ysKw?t=77 (O Fortuna starts at 1:17)
In French they have kept the term, and peninsula is "presqu'île", which means literally that :)
I could totally be wrong about this, of course. For example if you would spoke French, I'd look like an asshole.
> I could totally be wrong about this, of course. For example if you would spoke French, I'd look like an asshole.
I do happen to speak French, but that is irrelevant. Merely speaking a language does not make a person an authority on etymology. The general public often holds unsound views on where the words they use come from. I am however involved in historical linguistics in academia, and what I would like to emphasize here is that the Romance languages are well known to have created calques on the basis of learned Latin -- examples abound in Spanish and Romanian too, for example. The layman may believe them to continue Latin forms, but they can be shown to represent late coinages, not retentions.
exegi monumentum aere perennius
regalique situ pyramidum altius,
quod non imber edax, non Aquilo inpotens
possit diruere…
(Odes III: XXX, lines 1-4, published 23BC)
(I have built a monument more lasting than bronze,
higher than the Pyramids’ regal structures,
that no consuming rain, nor wild north wind
can destroy…)
https://collation.folger.edu/2016/03/more-lasting-than-bronze/
If you haven't yet read the one about Lesbia and her sparrow you're missing a great poem (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catullus_2)!great poem and definitely with no double entendres!
Catullus opened a carme with:
>>> Annales Volusi, cacata charta
...that literally means "paper with shit all over" to his competitor Volusio poem.
Miser Catulle, dēsinās ineptīre,
et quod vidēs perīsse perditum dūcās.
Fulsēre quondam candidī tibī sōlēs,
cum ventitābās quō puella dūcēbat
amāta nōbīs quantum amābitur nūlla.
Ibi illa multa cum iocōsa fīēbant,
quae tū volēbās nec puella nōlēbat,
fulsēre vērē candidī tibī sōlēs.
Nunc iam illa nōn vult: tū quoque impotēns nōlī,
nec quae fugit sectāre, nec miser vīve,
sed obstinātā mente perfer, obdūrā.
Valē puella. Iam Catullus obdūrat,
nec tē requīret nec rogābit invītam.
At tū dolēbis, cum rogāberis nūllā.
Scelesta, vae tē! quae tibī manet vīta?
Quis nunc tē adībit? Cui vidēberis bella?
Quem nunc amābis? Cuius esse dīcēris?
Quem bāsiābis? Cui labella mordēbis?
At tū, Catulle, dēstinātus obdūrā.
I haven't found a great translation for this one, but the meter belies how perfect it is in terms of balancing the humor and pain of lost love[1].