The thing which has to annoy me most about latin poets is that they are dead. Completely and utterly so. You cannnot yell at them or send them repeated death threats when you are feeling pissed off at them. Them and their incredibly smug ways, with the stupid word orders (I am looking at you Horace) and pretending to be sophisticated while writing things which would be dismissed as crude teenage boy shit if it was in english (its all “ooh get ready for nine- yes nine!!!-successive copulations my darling prostitute Ipsitilla!”) and the ridiculous comparisons (Ovid- wtf is boxwood? couldn’t you think of something more poetic?). I have been trying to memorise “Love will not let the poet sleep” by Petronius. I am not feeling very sympathetic towards him right now, or other similarly whiny poets. If they met it might go like this:
Setting: A dark tavern where men come to drown their sorrows and order ’stewed prunes’ (latin in joke i’m afraid, the code for “i want a prostitute” in unlicesened brothels in Pompeii). Enter Catullus and Martial talking about their love lives:
Catullus: oh i don’t know what to do about Lesbia! i’m so confused with all the love and the hate tormenting me!
Martial: Like me too! My girl is somehow difficult and easy going!
Catullus: Dude, the harsh c-sounds of your words (difficilus facilis) totally emphasise the pain of being in love!
Martial: Love brings so many harsh decisions man, i can live neither with her or without her!
Catullus: At least your girl isn’t a total skank.
Petronius enters, naked and confused from all the wandering around in the road, orders a stiff drink. Nods to Catullus and Martial, yet ignores them as he is on a mission to find babes so damn cupid will let him rest.
Catullus: She may be a whore, but i need her. I need as great a number of kisses as the number of sand which lies between the Oracle of sultry Jupiter and Battus’ ancient tomb
Martial: Cyrene sure is a great, silphium-producing place…
Catullus mumers in agreement. Horace enters
Martial: Dude! We haven’t seen you in here since you hung up the metaphorical votive tablet at the temple!
Horace: I saw her with another man, not even a man, an inexperience boy drenched in much rose perfume
Catullus: Tough break dude…
End scene because i am damn tired
So yeah, that is how i believe it would go. They are utterly pathetic.
(But then again, i so wouldn’t mind being there)
(p.s if you were actually looking for a translation of Love will Not Let the Poet Sleep i have posted that somewhere : http://insidelivvishead.wordpress.com/2009/04/09/in-which-i-translate-stuff/ )
