Today's Quintilian: 8.6.26

XXVI. huius enim sunt generis cum "ab Hannibale" caesa [et apud tragicos aegialeo] apud Cannas sexaginta milia dicimus, et carmina Vergili "Vergilium", "venisse" commeatus qui adferantur, "sacrilegium" deprehensum, non sacrilegum, "armorum" scientiam habere, non artis.

26. We adopt it when we say that "sixty thousand were killed by Hannibal at Cannae"; when we say "Virgil" for Virgil's poetry; when we say that "provisions," which have been brought, "have come"; that a "sacrilege has been found out" instead of the person who committed it; and that "a soldier has a knowledge of arms" instead of a knowledge of the military art.

Today's Quintilian: 8.6.24-25

XXIV. Quod fit retrorsum durius. Refert autem in quantum hic tropos oratorem sequatur. Nam ut "Vulcanum" pro igne vulgo audimus et "vario Marte pugnatum" eruditus est sermo et "Venerem" quam coitum dixisse magis decet, ita "Liberum et Cererem" pro vino et pane licentius quam ut fori severitas ferat. Sicut ex eo quod continet id quod continetur: usus recipit "bene moratas urbes" et "poculum epotum" et "saeculum felix", at id quod contra est raro audeat nisi poeta: XXV. "iam proximus ardet Vcalegon". Nisi forte hoc potius est a possessore quod possidetur, ut "hominem devorari", cuius patrimonium consumatur: quo modo fiunt innumerabiles species.

The reverse would be offensive.

24. It is of great importance, however, to consider how far the use of the trope is permitted to the orator, for though we daily hear "Vulcan" used for fire, though it is elegant to say vario Marte pugnatum for "the fortune of the battle was various," and though it is more becoming to say "Venus" than coitus, yet to use "Bacchus" and "Ceres" for wine and bread would be more venturesome than the severity of the forum would allow. Thus, too, custom permits us to signify that which is contained from that which contains it, as "well-mannered cities," "a cup was drunk," "a happy age." But the opposite mode of expression scarcely any one would use but a poet, as Proximus ardet Ucalegon, "Ucalegon burns next." 25. It may perhaps be more allowable, however, to signify from the possessor that which is possessed, such as "a man is eaten up" when his estate is squandered. But there are numberless forms of metonymy of this sort.

Today's Quintilian: 8.6.23

XXIII. Nec procul ab hoc genere discedit metonymia, quae est nominis pro nomine positio, [cuius vis est pro eo quod dicitur causam propter quam dicitur ponere] sed, ut ait Cicero, hypallagen rhetores dicunt. Haec inventas ab inventore et subiectas res ab optinentibus significat, ut "Cererem corruptam undis", et "receptus terra Neptunus classes aquilonibus arcet".

23. From synecdoche, metonymy is not very different. It is the substitution of one word for another, and the Greek rhetoricians, as Cicero observes, call it ὑπαλλαγή (hypallage). It indicates an invention, by the inventor, or a thing possessed, by the possessor. Thus Virgil says,

Cererem, corruptam undis,

Ceres by water damaged,
and Horace,

receptus
Terra Neptunus classes Aquilonibus arcet,

Neptune, received
Within the land, from north winds shields the fleets.

Jargon

This is just a note to ask if any teachers out there feel that 'professionalism' obscures a lot of common sense. I'm just starting out, but so much of the jargon reminds me of the sort of thing I abhorred in journals in graduate school, where the adoption of a hip vocabulary allows anyone to sound like a technically proficient specialist. Often, theorese (the language of theory) can be broken down in simple, almost laughably common ideas that are made to seem larger than life, and just as often the proponents of a given theory pretend that talking about the same old things with new terms is a revolution.

I don't think educationese (I thought I'd just coined that!) goes that far--i.e., I don't think it's consciously elitist, just consciously 'professional'--, but it is obscure.

For example, I've been reading in teacher's manuals and in lesson plan guidelines that I need to be sure I build 'formative and summative assessment' into each lesson.

I diligently sought out the precise meaning of this precise phrase that gets bandied about in education circles. It must be very important to have been codified and to be constantly repeated, I thought.

But it turns out that this is just a fancy way of saying something I had already planned to do: pay attention to how the lesson's going, then try to get some feedback at the end to see that it worked. The former is encoded as 'formative assessment' and the latter as 'summative.'

Did I need to be told to do that, and did I need to be told in cold, lifeless jargon?

I'm reminded now of Richard A. Lanham's little book, Revising Prose. He called this 'the Official Style.' I don't think it's even suited to the office.

Lepide!

Eh. Not so fast.

What the *bleep* is this?

That'll really get my students (and their parents) excited about Latin.

And I haven't even mentioned the one that asks, 'Hey! Where's my toilet paper?' What else could it mean?

Browse around and you'll see that some Latinists like dancing, while others are just crazy about ointment.

I would like to take this opportunity to tell my fellow Latin teachers that if your students seem amused by this kind of stuff, they are, but not in the way you think.

They think you're a dork. Those who don't, however, are themselves dorks. It is our civic duty to make Latin cool by not trying to make it 'cool'.