Laudator Temporis Acti

Many twenty-first century librarians are nothing but crypto-misobiblists, never happier than when they're maliciously culling their stock and stamping WITHDRAWN on whatever is of proven quality and worth, which is then quietly consigned to the dumpster or the charity shop. Well-stocked shelves are anathema to this race of poisonous elves.

For in you two the line of your sires is not lost, but you are of the race of men that are sceptered kings, fostered by Zeus; for no commoner could beget such sons as you.

... οὐ γὰρ σφῷν γε γένος ἀπόλωλε τοκήων,
ἀλλ᾿ ἀνδρῶν γένος ἐστὲ διοτρεφέων βασιλήων
σκηπτούχων, ἐπεὶ οὔ κε κακοὶ τοιούσδε τέκοιεν.

62–64 ath. Zenodotus, Aristophanes Byzantius, Aristarchus

As I declared when I first dealt with a god, one must believe in him in order to understand him; Frickenhaus on Greek soil felt much the same way, and with pleasure I quote his words: "One cannot be a historian of religion without reproducing the belief in the old gods in one's heart."

Wie ich, als ich zuerst von einem Gotte handelte, ausgesprochen habe, man müsse an ihn glauben, um ihn zu verstehen, hat ganz ähnlich Frickenhaus auf hellenischem Boden empfunden, und ich setze gern seine Worte her „man kann nicht Religionshistoriker sein, ohne den Glauben an die alten Götter in seinem Herzen nachzuschaffen“.

He whom they call Redeemer has put them in fetters: in fetters of false values and delusive words. Would that someone would yet redeem them from their Redeemer!

Der, welchen sie Erlöser nennen, schlug sie in Banden: — In Banden falscher Werthe und Wahn-Worte! Ach dass Einer sie noch von ihrem Erlöser erlöste!

For Revelations he was dependent on a single copy borrowed from Reuchlin, which lacked the last six verses...

Labels: typographical and other errors

But as for me, the gods themselves undid my bonds
full easily...

αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ δεσμὸν μὲν ἀνέγναμψαν θεοὶ αὐτοὶ
ῥηϊδίως...

We the philologists, dry as dust, who stick to the letter and analyse grammatical subtleties, we also happen to be perverse enough to love the ideals we serve with all our heart.

Wir Philologen, die trocknen Schleicher, die am Buchstaben haften und grammatischen Haarspaltereien nachhängen, haben nun einmal auch die Verkehrtheit, daß wir mit ganzem Herzen die Ideale lieben, denen wir dienen.

People do not want to know too much about us. That is their business, and for many of us the feeling is mutual. But they also do not want to know anything about the ideals we have devoted our life to because we believe in them. That cannot leave us indifferent. Not because of our ideals: they are divine and they have proved that earthly power does not prevail against them, let alone the wild shouting of the modern mob of educators.

Die Leute wollen von uns ja wenig wissen; das ist ihre Sache und beruht für viele auf Gegenseitigkeit. Aber sie wollen auch von den Idealen nichts wissen, denen wir doch deshalb unser Leben gewidmet haben, weil wir an sie glauben. Das kann uns nicht gleichgiltig sein. Keineswegs wegen unserer Ideale; die sind ja göttlich und haben bewiesen, daß irdische Macht ihnen nichts anhaben kann, geschweige das wüste Geschrei des modernen Bildungspöbels.

In Ar. (the head) is called a pot:

so that you don't get your pot cracked with a stick

(ἡ κεφαλὴ) καλεῖται . . . παρὰ δὲ Ἀριστοφάνει σκάφιον·

ἵνα μὴ καταγῇς τὸ σκάφιον πληγεὶς ξύλῳ

How did we come to these corrupted times?
Bitter fate, why give us life,
or else why not an earlier death,
when you see our country
enslaved by profane foreigners...?

Perchè venimmo a sì perversi tempi?
Perchè il nascer ne desti o perchè prima
Non ne desti il morire,
Acerbo fato? onde a stranieri ed empi
Nostra patria vedendo ancella e schiava...?

How came our times to be thus out of joint?
Why were we born or why, ere such a day,
Not deal us merciful death,
O bitter Fate, that dost our land appoint
To be the slave of impious foreigners...?

I beseech you, my brothers, remain faithful to the earth, and do not believe those who speak to you of otherworldly hopes! Poison-mixers are they, whether they know it or not.

Despisers of life are they, decaying and poisoned themselves, of whom the earth is weary: so let them go.

Ich beschwöre euch, meine Brüder, bleibt der Erde treu und glaubt denen nicht, welche euch von überirdischen Hoffnungen reden! Giftmischer sind es, ob sie es wissen oder nicht.

Verächter des Lebens sind es, Absterbende und selber Vergiftete, deren die Erde müde ist: so mögen sie dahinfahren!