E Pluribus Whatever

by Jeff Matthews   ©

 

I was never much of a Latin scholar at school. I did, however, study a neo-Latin language called Spanish, but by the time the Spanish got around to the language there were no more ablatives, datives or passive participles. That stuff had all been replaced  by bull-fights, red wine and Flamenco babes with roses between their teeth. My kind of language.

Later, many years out of school, I did discover an interest in Latin, however, when I came across my first Asterix comic book. Asterix is this Celt warrior who wages funny war against the Roman oppressors in Gaul. Depending on where you buy your comics, Asterix speaks German or French or English, etc. Some enterprising scholar had decided to do it up right, because the version I picked up was in Latin!  I couldn't read it, of course, but I was intrigued. Then, when I found my first Donald Duck comic in Latin, I became aware of a conspiracy of very erudite —and loony— professors who have nothing better to do than translate useless stuff into useless languages.

Useless? Well, in many European universities as late as the 18th century, Latin was still the language of instruction, and it was  the lingua franca of the Roman Catholic church for a long long time. Universities have changed, however, and the acceptance of native language Catholic masses —as opposed to the traditional Latin— by the Second Vatican Council, makes it ever less likely that, say, a German priest and a Japanese priest will be able to really converse in Latin. Yet, the Vatican still generates significant numbers of documents in Latin, and, thus, keeps scholars at work updating the language  in order to be able to deal with concepts Caesar never had to worry about. (At a recent Vatican congress dealing with the problems of keeping the language alive, at least as an ecclesiastical medium, reporters from RAI, the Italian State television network, were forced to ask their questions and get their answers in the language of their Roman ancestors; the interview was subtitled in Italian at the bottom of the screen!)   An 18,000 word  dictionary of recent coinages has recently been published by the Vatican. Some of the entries:

fax: exemplum simillime expressum
bestseller: liber maxime divenditus
gulag: campus captivis custodiensis
car wash: autocinetorum lavatrix
pinball machine: sphaeriludium electricum nomismate actum
 

The screwiest addition to the Latin craze is a small book entitled Latin for All Occasions by Henry Beard. Now, ignoramus (a little Latin for you, just to show I'm not faking!) that I am, I had never heard of Henry Beard, but the inside cover says he has also written Miss Piggy's Guide to Life, so caveat emptor (heh-heh!). Here are a few of his expressions for all occasions:

Heu! Tintinnuntius meus sonat!  Darn! There goes my beeper!

Fors fortis.   Fat chance.

Caesar si viveret, ad remum dareris.   If Caesar were alive, you'd be chained to an oar.

Nihil declaro.   I have nothing to declare.

Fac ut gaudeum.    Make my day.

Apudne te vel me?    Your place or mine?

Si hoc adfixum in obice legere potes, et liberaliter educatus et nimis propinquus ades.
If you can read this bumper sticker, you are both very well educated and much too close.

Sentio aliquos togatos contra me conspirare.
I think some people in togas are plotting against me.

Tutene? Atque cuius exercitus?!     You and whose army?!

And, appropriately,

Obesa cantavit.  The fat lady has sung.


 



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