On Philology and Philosophy

'Philology and philosophy are treated as reciprocal. They exist on equal footing, and neither functions satisfactorily without the other. Their methods, as Boeckh views them, are opposite; philology attains to knowledge through induction, whereas philosophy starts from a concept. To formulate his concepts soundly, the philosopher needs an adequate fund of knowledge or data; too many philosophers, Boeckh charges, lack a basis in knowledge or tradition. The insights or intuitions of the well-based philosopher are more trustworthy than are those of the man not thus firmly based. On the other hand, the philologist who attempts to work without some order concept in his view gathers a mere aggregate of facts, cannot digest his data into a system. Philosophy is, as the etymology of the word indicates, the love of wisdom; philology, seeking Newman's "twofold logos," is the love of expression in words and of what that expression conveys. The followers of each strive after an unattainable idea. Boeckh would undoubtedly be exceedingly wary of the tendency apparent in some recent literary interpreters to treat philology as almost subservient to philosophy. In the study of literature, philology must be master and philosophy the servant.'

--John Paul Pritchard, from the preface to his abridged translation of August Boeckh's Encyclopaedie und Methodologie der philologischen Wissenschaften. The title of the translation is On Interpretation and Criticism (University of Oklahoma Press, 1968)

Modern Hieroglyphics

Or should that be beeroglyphics?

Maybe this is the wrong place for this, but I'm stumped. Lionshead beer, a cheap but eminently drinkable Pennsylvania pilsner, has puzzles under the bottle cap. Maybe I'm just dense, but I can't solve this one:



I'm hoping that some of our vast and learned readership can help restore this bit of lost knowledge, exercising some of the skills they've acquired in the pursuit of Altertumswissenschaft.

UPDATE: I think the good professor solved the problem (see comment below): Count to 10.

And while I'm grateful, I feel a little like Ralphie in A Christmas Story, whose high hopes were dashed by the crass commercialism of the secret message he'd deciphered with the aid of his long-awaited and hard won Little Orphan Annie decoder ring: "Drink more Ovaltine."

Here the commercialism has been replaced by banality.

No, this will not do. We shall adopt the lectio difficilior, viz. bull ain't whistlin', evidently a colloquialism whose precise meaning is unrecoverable.

That's more like it.

Uncle Sam wants a piece of Nicander

I'm always interested to know how people find the campus, so I check the site meter pretty regularly. Our (mostly) silent partner, Magister Coke, brings in a lot of his students, but the big one has got to be Constantine's Vision.

Must be a hot topic these days.

I'm most puzzled, however, by this: it seems the IRS is auditing some very old books.

Someone found the Campus by googling Nicander's Alexipharmaca.

This isn't the first time someone's found us by searching for this most misunderstood and disliked Hellenistic poet. I should do him the honor of posting something more substantial than the post everyone stumbles upon.

In the meantime, go easy on the lad. His books don't sell well, and I doubt he's holding out on the feds.

Then again, maybe the IRS is concerned with incurring the wrath of those whom they audit. Antidotes might come in handy.

Stand your ground and bite your lip

I've never been much of a Latinist -- don't get me wrong. It's just that Greek poetry has always interested me more, even when it seems so straight forward and, by modern standards, jingoistic. Consequently I haven't read much Horace beyond the Sermones. I'm familiar with the famous 'dulce et decorum est,' but Eric's post which referred to it reminded of Tyrtaeus (7th c. BC). I would imagine that everyone who's written on either poem has noted the connection, but I thought it'd be nice to post the text for comparison:

τεθνάμεναι γὰρ καλὸν ἐνὶ προμάχοισι πεσόντα
ἄνδρ’ ἀγαθὸν περὶ ἧι πατρίδι μαρνάμενον·
τὴν δ’ αὐτοῦ προλιπόντα πόλιν καὶ πίονας ἀγροὺς
πτωχεύειν πάντων ἔστ’ ἀνιηρότατον,
πλαζόμενον σὺν μητρὶ φίληι καὶ πατρὶ γέροντι (5)
παισί τε σὺν μικροῖς κουριδίηι τ’ ἀλόχωι.
ἐχθρὸς μὲν γὰρ τοῖσι μετέσσεται οὕς κεν ἵκηται,
χρησμοσύνηι τ’ εἴκων καὶ στυγερῆι πενίηι,
αἰσχύνει τε γένος, κατὰ δ’ ἀγλαὸν εἶδος ἐλέγχει,
πᾶσα δ’ ἀτιμίη καὶ κακότης ἕπεται. (10)
†εἶθ’ οὕτως ἀνδρός τοι ἀλωμένου οὐδεμί’ ὤρη
γίνεται οὔτ’ αἰδὼς οὔτ’ ὀπίσω γένεος.
θυμῶι γῆς πέρι τῆσδε μαχώμεθα καὶ περὶ παίδων
θνήσκωμεν ψυχ<4έω>4ν μηκέτι φειδόμενοι.
ὦ νέοι, ἀλλὰ μάχεσθε παρ’ ἀλλήλοισι μένοντες, (15)
μηδὲ φυγῆς αἰσχρῆς ἄρχετε μηδὲ φόβου,
ἀλλὰ μέγαν ποιεῖτε καὶ ἄλκιμον ἐν φρεσὶ θυμόν,
μηδὲ φιλοψυχεῖτ’ ἀνδράσι μαρνάμενοι·
τοὺς δὲ παλαιοτέρους, ὧν οὐκέτι γούνατ’ ἐλαφρά,
μὴ καταλείποντες φεύγετε, τοὺς γεραιούς. (20)
αἰσχρὸν γὰρ δὴ τοῦτο, μετὰ προμάχοισι πεσόντα
κεῖσθαι πρόσθε νέων ἄνδρα παλαιότερον,
ἤδη λευκὸν ἔχοντα κάρη πολιόν τε γένειον,
θυμὸν ἀποπνείοντ’ ἄλκιμον ἐν κονίηι,
αἱματόεντ’ αἰδοῖα φίλαις ἐν χερσὶν ἔχοντα— (25)
αἰσχρὰ τά γ’ ὀφθαλμοῖς καὶ νεμεσητὸν ἰδεῖν,
καὶ χρόα γυμνωθέντα· νέοισι δὲ πάντ’ ἐπέοικεν,
ὄφρ’ ἐρατῆς ἥβης ἀγλαὸν ἄνθος ἔχηι,
ἀνδράσι μὲν θηητὸς ἰδεῖν, ἐρατὸς δὲ γυναιξὶ
ζωὸς ἐών, καλὸς δ’ ἐν προμάχοισι πεσών. (30)
ἀλλά τις εὖ διαβὰς μενέτω ποσὶν ἀμφοτέροισι
στηριχθεὶς ἐπὶ γῆς, χεῖλος ὀδοῦσι δακών.

Text: fr. 10 from M.L. West. Iambi et elegi Graeci, Oxford.