pingo pingere pinxi pictum /  by Anthony Gibbins

Here is a quick lesson for budding Latinists on looking up verbs in a Latin dictionary. Try looking up pingo. You will see the heading of this post, followed by a definition, in this case something like ‘to paint a picture, represent pictorially’. So what is with these four words?

Well, firstly, they aren’t really four words but four forms of the same word. pingo means ‘I paint’, pingere means ‘to paint’, pinxi means ‘I painted’ and pictum is the supine, which in the right circumstances might mean ‘in order to paint’, but is more commonly useful for forming the participle pictus, picta, pictum which means ‘having been painted’. Of course, someone beginning Latin doesn’t need to know all of this at once, but it is handy to know why the dictionary gives you so many forms of the same word.

On this page we see the word pinxit, meaning ‘he, she or it painted’, formed by changing the –i at the end of pinxi to -it. pinxisti means ‘you painted’, pinximus ‘we painted’ and pinxerunt ‘they painted’. You get the picture. Moreover, we can change the –um on the end of the supine to –or to get pictor, ‘someone who paints’. It really is a beautiful system.

Are you able to see the picture hanging on the wall? Marcellus himself once painted this picture. This picture is vendibilis*.

*Stay tuned for tomorrow’s post for the meaning of vendibilis. Hint: it has something to do with vending machines.

 

The Bechdel Test /  by Anthony Gibbins

The Bechdel Test is named for the cartoonist, Alison Bechdel, who first introduced the idea in one of her strips. Bechdel herself prefers the name Bechdel-Wallace Test, which credits the woman, Liz Wallace, who helped develop the idea.

The Bechdel-Wallace test can be performed on a work of fiction, in order to find out something of the way it portrays female characters. A large amount of fiction, including about half of all films, fails the test. bechdeltest.com offers a useful list.

To pass the test, a work of fiction must meet the following three criteria; 1. It has to have at least two women in it 2. who talk to each other 3. about something other than a man. Deadpool fails, but Batman vs Superman passes. Zootopia passes, but Kung Fu Panda 3 and Monsters Inc. do not. Fightclub, Train Spotting, Forrest Gump, Groundhog Day, The Princess Bride, Stand By Me and Raiders of the Lost Ark all fail. The Life of Brian, Inglourious Bastards, Amelie, No Country for Old Men, The Dark Knight, Sin City, The Incredibles and V for Vendetta all pass. So do Pulp Fiction and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.

I’m happy to say that Legonium, pars secunda passes. partes prima, tertia, quarta and quinta, sadly, do not. But partes sexta and septima do, as will many more to follow. It’s no great achievement to pass the Bechdel-Wallace test, but its problematic that so much of our fiction does not. I’d like to think that Legonium would have passed even if I’d never heard of the test, but I am glad I had heard of it, and that it is in my mind as I write these stories.

A bit about the Latin. I took quolibet from the wonderful Latin podcast, quomodo dicitur. They bill their show as ‘A Weekly Podcast about Anything’ (Colloquium Latinum hebdomadale de quolibet). I highly recommend a listen. The translation for pool, ludus tudicularis, I found in a German dictionary of modern Latin. It truly is a book de quolibet.

They play pool for two hours talking about anything. It often pleases Claudia, a learned woman, to talk about ancient monuments.

Claudia Mirandaque /  by Anthony Gibbins

Here we encounter Claudia for the first time. We also see the inside of the Montanus, or Highlander. The Highlander is part of the set called The Detective's Office, which was released at the beginning of 2015. In this shot you can see something of the inside detail, the trophy case, dart board and pool table.

comiter is an adverb with connections to the noun comes. The Oxford Latin Dictionary defines comes as 'one who goes with or accompanies another, a companion, friend or comrade, a partner or associate', among other things. When I think of someone greeting a person comiter, I just think of how one tends to greet a comes. For the sake of translation, however, I will translate comiter as 'in a friendly manner.'

Claudia, a friend of Miranda, is waiting for her in the Montanus. She greets her as-she-enters (present participle) in a friendly manner. Miranda responds in a friendly manner.

The Highlander /  by Anthony Gibbins

I've mentioned Rusticatio a few times now, the week long full Latin emersion held annually in Virginia. One thing I may not have mentioned is the incredible warmth of the participants. One way that this warmth manifests is through the use of noster/nostra, 'our'. I still remember the first time, sitting in the ula scholastica, that a more experienced Latin speaker referred to me as Antonius noster. I wanted to create that feeling around Miranda.

Miranda is on her way to the pub. And what a gorgeous pub it is. You can see that it has its name, The Highlander, printed on its windows. montanus is Latin for mountain dweller, which seems a fair translation of Highlander. A female mountain dweller would be a montana, but apparently the name of the state Montana comes from a Spanish word meaning 'mountainous country'.

By the way, I think this page might have the first purpose clause in Legonium. 

Our Miranda is walking to the pub to meet with her good friend there. This small pub is called 'The Highlander'.

frequens vs occupatus /  by Anthony Gibbins

The restaurant, as you can see, is busy. frequens was a word that I met relatively late in my Latin learning. Before that I guess I would have said caupona est occupata, which I don't believe would be wrong, but somewhat ambiguous. For occupatus means 'busy' when referring to a person, but 'occupied' when referring to a place. This could be by a crowd of diners, sine dubio, but it could also be by a single soul - think of the 'occupied' sign of a public bathroom stall.

frequens, on the other hand, means, among other things, 'a place in which many people are present, crowded, thronged, busy'. This was the sense that I wanted to give of the caupona. I'm not sure of the wisdom of having two Lego celebrities dining in Legonium, but the students I read with seem to get a kick out of it - well, a few do. So, I'll leave them in there for now.

She immediately descends the stairs to the street. The restaurant, as you can see, is busy, but Miranda is not going to-there. Perhaps you are asking to-where she is walking?

The Epitoma Festi of Paul the Deacon /  by Anthony Gibbins

Now that she is up, Miranda wastes no time in getting her day started. The ablative absolute aliis vestimentis indutis (literally, other clothes having been put on) creates for me a sense of her pace. This is the page that tells us where the conclave of Miranda is situated, above the restaurant and below Marcellus' attic. Speaking of whom, isn't that Macellus noster sitting on the maenianum enjoying a pizza?

conclave is defined in the Epitoma Festi of Paulus Diaconus in this way; conclavia dicuntur loca, quae una clave clauduntur (conclavia are called locations, which are closed up with a single key). The work of Paulus Diaconus is an example of a Latin lexicon, of which there are several. If you are interested, Paulus Diaconus wrote his epitoma (abridgement) of Festus' de verborum significatu during the reign of Charlemagne. Festus had written his lexicon during the 2nd century AD, but nothing of it today remains. The work of Festus was itself an abridgement of an even earlier lexicon by Verrius Flaccus (also lost) compiled during the reign of Augustus (the Roman emperor, not the Legonium bank manager). Anyway, I'll be translating conclave here as apartment.

Miranda, having changed into other clothes, exits straight onto the balcony. Her apartment is situated between the restaurant and the attic of Marcellus.

 

Awake! /  by Anthony Gibbins

On this page we learn that Miranda is sleeping through a large part of the day because she has to work throughout the night. Why might that be...?

Miranda sleeps through a large part of the day because it is necessary for her to work through the night. Soon she wakes up (expergiscitur) and rises.

Or rather... /  by Anthony Gibbins

immo is another interesting word. It is a particle that may begin a sentence to indicate that the sentence corrects something that has come before. It may be used to completely negate what was previously said, to correct one part of a previous claim, or to supply a more precise version of a stated fact (among other things). Here immo corrects the idea that everyone is awake with the more precise 'everyone except Miranda'.

There are two other interesting expressions. The first is multum in diem which means late into the day. I've only seen it as multam in noctem, such as in Cicero's Dream of Scipio, where Scipio stays up late chatting with an old family friend. But I see no reason for not using it here. Speaking of Cicero, he also supplied somno se dare, 'to give one's self to sleep'. More poetic than simply repeating Miranda dormit.

Miranda, our title character, is seen here for the first time. I wanted to show off the fold-out bed that comes built-in to this apartment. The pyjamas and sleeping face come from a minifigure in the series 6 collection called Sleepyhead. He is quite expensive to buy on eBay, but I found one in Germany going cheap because he had no hair. I didn't need the hair, so problem solved. It does mean, however, that everyone in Legonium probably owns the same pyjamas.

Or rather, everyone except Miranda. Miranda is still seeping in her bed. Perhaps you are asking why Miranda gives herself to sleep so late into the day.