birthev

[birthev]

I just learned about possibly the shortest poem in the world, and it's in Dutch, from the 17th century.

U, nu!

It's a poem by Dutch playwright Joost van den Vondel from 1620 and he won a contest with it. It translates to: "You, now!" But it works much better in Dutch, lol. It's a palindrome, with the same vowel twice. In current Dutch, "u" is the formal form of address (as opposed to "je/jij"), but I don't know if that was already the case in the 17th century.

Apparently this poem has just been chosen as the best sentence of Dutch literature. I don't know if I agree, but it's a pretty good find. A bit like that famous Hemingway story: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn." Except more romantic (I assume) and less sad.

[birthev]

Catullus 63

A few weeks back, I was listening to the opera Atys by Jean-Baptiste Lully (as one does) and I looked up Atys because it seemed like a name from Greek mythology, but I didn't know who it was. (This was also what inspired my post about the etymology of orgasm and other such words.) That was how I discovered Catullus wrote a long poem about him, so I decided to read it. The Latin is written in "galliambic" metre, named after the Galli, the castrated priests of Cybele. So for fun, I decided to copy the entire poem by hand and mark the metre. (I've spotted a few mistakes since I took these pictures, but they're good enough.)

You can find the Latin text here, if you want.

Now my attempt at translation (you can find other free translations online if you want). This is a prose translation, but I've more or less kept the original verses. Content warning for castration and ancient gender attitudes.

Carried over the high seas by a quick raft, Attis eagerly reached the Phrygian woods quick on his feet and he went to the shaded home of the goddess, crowned with woods, driven there by a raging madness. His mind adrift, he let the weights of his groin fall down with a sharp stone. Then as he sensed his limbs were left without virility, staining the soil with fresh blood, with snow-white hands she quickly took the light tambourine, the tambourine, the war trumpet of Cybele, the instruments of your rites, mother, and shaking the hollow back of a bull with delicate fingers, she began to sing, trembling, these words to her companions: "Come on, go, priestesses, to Cybele's high woods, at once! Go at once, wandering herd of mount Dindymon's mistress, who are seeking foreign places like exiles. You follow my footsteps under my leadership, companions of mine, who have born the fast-flowing open sea and the tumult of the ocean. You, who have emasculated your body, out of deep hatred for Venus, rejoice your mind for the mistress and hurriedly rove around. Let sluggish delay leave your mind; go at once, follow to the Phrygian home of Cybele, to the Phrygian woods of the goddess where the voice of the cymbal sounds, where the tambourines echo, where the Phrygian flutist plays low notes on the curved reed, where the Maenads throw their heads with force, ivy-bearing, where they urge on their sacred rites with sharp screams, where that wandering cohort of the goddess got used to flitting about, where it's fitting for us to speed up in fast three-step dance." As soon as Attis, fake woman, had sung this to her companions, the Bacchic chorus suddenly cried out with trembling tongues, the light tambourine resounded, the hollow cymbals rang out. Fast the choir went to the green Ida on hurried feet. Mad, gasping, Attis wandered and went, stirring up her mind, accompanied by the tambourine, through the shaded woods as their leader, like a young cow, avoiding the burden of the yoke, untamed: the hurried priestesses followed their swift-footed leader. So, when they reached the house of Cybele, somewhat wearied, they fell asleep from their hard work without food. Tired from this, blinking drowsily, sleep covered their eyes: in the soft quiet, away went the raging fury of the mind.

But when the golden-faced sun with shining eyes traversed the white sky, the hard soil, the wild sea, and drove out the shadows of the night with lively clatter of hooves, there Sleep left roused Attis, fleeing fast: the goddess Pasithea received him in her heaving bosom. So in the soft quiet, without consuming madness Attis at once remembered her own deeds in her heart, and saw with a clear mind without what and where she was. Her mind racing, she rushed back again to shallow waters. There, looking over the vast seas with teary eyes she spoke miserably to her homeland, with sorrowful voice: "Motherland, my creatress, motherland, who gave birth to me, that I, wretched, left behind, like runaway slaves do with their masters, I hurried on foot to the woods of Ida to be by the snow and the icy stables of the wild animals and go to all their hiding places where they rage, where or in which places may I imagine that you are, homeland? My pupil itself longs to direct its gaze to you, while for a short time my mind is free from wild rage. Do I need to go to these woods, far from my home? Homeland, goods, friends, parents shall I leave? Shall I leave the forum, palaestra, the stadium and the gymnasia? Ah, you wretched, wretched mind, you must lament again and again. For what sort of shape is there that I have not taken on? Me a woman, me a young man, me a teen, me a boy, I've been the flower of the gymnasium, I was the glory of the palaestra: my doors were frequented, my thresholds lukewarm, my house was wreathed in flower garlands, when I had to leave my bedroom after sunrise. Do I now need to be the mistress of the gods and Cybele's slave? Will I be a maenad, be a part of me, be a sterile man? Do I need to live on the cold places of green Ida, covered in snow? Will I spend my life under the high peaks of Phrygia, where the forest-dwelling deer lives, the wood-wandering boar? Now, now it hurts what I've done; now, now I regret it."

When the swift sound left his rosy lips, carrying news to the ears of the gods, Cybele loosened the yoke binding her lions and spurring on enemy of the herd on her left, she spoke. "Come on," she said, "come, go, wild beast, let madness urge him on, through the blow of fury, make him hurry back into the woods, he who longs too freely to flee my commands. Come, strike your flanks with your tail, bear your lashes, make all places resound with roaring noise, shake, wild beast, your reddish mane with your muscular neck." This said menacing Cybele and she unfastened the yoke with her hand. The wild beast urged itself on and roused madness in its mind, it went, roared, broke bushes with its wandering foot. But when it came to the humid places of the foamy coast and saw delicate Attis near the marble surface of the sea, it made an attack. Out of his mind, Attis fled to the wild woods. There he was forever, a handmaid his whole life. Great goddess, goddess Cybele, divine mistress of Dindymon, far from my house may all your fury be, mistress. Drive others into frenzy, drive others rabid.

[birthev]

Spooky Stevetony because it's that time of year :)

Lines by @somekindofsheepl, colours by me.

[birthev]

[birthev]

My fandom experience is always a little weird. Classics is the only fandom where I actually know canon, but I don't really read fic in it. (I have read almost all fics by this author, though, and so should you because they're criminally underrated.) I got my start in fandom and fanfiction by reading fic about fandoms I didn't know. Then I fell in love with Marvel Steve/Tony and gradually stopped reading other fandoms and now, with a few exceptions, I exclusively read Steve/Tony. But I still have never watched MCU or read a Marvel comic, and I don't really plan on doing so. I've read enough fic that I have quite a decent idea of canon, even.

It's gotten extra weird since I started writing a 616 Steve/Tony fic where Tony's brain deletion proceeds a little differently. I always thought if I ever wrote fic (instead of original fiction), it'd be classics fic, but I had an idea and I was easily persuaded by the Steve/Tony servers I'm in because a few people liked my idea and I'm desperate to please, lol.

And now I've read a lot of synopses and looked at a lot of comics panels and probably annoyed everyone with my constant questions about canon, and I both feel less and more like an impostor 😂.

[birthev]

Vergil girl what is ur thing against couples and romance

[birthev]

it's crazy that "person" and "people" come from two completely different Latin words and yet in English one is the plural of the other

if you didn't know (or it hadn't clicked) "person" and "people" used to be separate words. you still see them used like that in some contexts, which is also where you find the plural forms "persons" (i.e. individuals) and "peoples" (i.e. groups of humans)

"people" comes from Latin populus with much the same meaning (nation, community, crowd). in my opinion much more interesting is the word "person", which comes from Latin persona

the word persona originally referred to a mask. then, since masks were used to distinguish roles in ancient theatre, it began to also mean a character in a play, and then by extent the character or personality of a real individual. from there it eventually began to be used similarly to its modern English meaning

I find it very interesting how "person" - a word which in today's English carries a great deal of implication about being real, and capable of independent thought, and worthy of rights - has its origins in fiction and theatre, and specifically the mask, often a symbol of all that is fake and artificial

[birthev]

The manuscript below is called "Enchiridion Leonis papae. Serenissimo imperatori Carolo Magno in munus pretiosum datum. Nuperrime mendis omnibus purgatum". This loosely translates to "Handbook of Pope Leo. Given as a precious gift to his Highness Emperor Charlemagne. Very recently cleansed of all lies."

As the title states, the book claims it was written by pope Leo and given to Charlemagne. However, this is obviously not true. This version was printed in Mainz in 1633. And yes, version because there are different versions of this book, including some from the 16th century.

In the 16th and 17th century, "white magic" handbooks (aka, Christian magic) were very popular, which resulted in stuff like this. It includes instructions and prayers, a list of saints, and this pentagram that was pasted into the book. To create more legitimacy, the authors claimed authorship by an ancient pope and that the magic in this book protected Charlemagne from being wounded in battle.

This particular manuscript is a handwritten copy of the original. Pictures were taken during my internship in a heritage library.

[birthev]

"it's concerning if university students are genuinely struggling to read full adult-level books for class" and "don't overstate the reporting of a single news article" and "if this shift is genuinely real, it's reflective of broad curriculum changes in lower education levels, probably at least in part due to remote schooling during COVID, and doesn't mean the new generation is being willfully Stupid and Vapid" and "when reading for personal pleasure people should read whatever they like without shame" and "reading from a broad variety of genres, styles, and authorial backgrounds will improve your understanding of both literature and the real world" and "actively mocking people for their tastes in books does not encourage them to become more adventurous you're just being mean" and also "but seriously adult books are not just boringly pretentious nothingburgers padded with pointless sex scenes, and claiming they are just shows how little you've read" all can and should co-exist.

[birthev]

stars glued to our thighs by starvels

Steve/Tony. ~6k. E. Rule 63 Comics. PWP. Established Relationship. Banter. Oral Sex. Fingering. Multiple orgasms. Trans characters. Tony Stark's Red Thong of Justice.

Steve’s been out of town for a few weeks, doing the superhero thing. To welcome Steve back home properly, Tony clears some space for Steve to slide right into.

for squares 10-12 of my 2022 kinktober bingo: orgasm control + nipple play + body worship

[updates & my other kinktober fics here]

[birthev]

Chapter 1/3

Steve/Tony. 5k, E, 616. Comics. Capwolf AU. Established relationship. Dom Bottom Tony. Sub Top Steve. Frottage in wolf form! Puppy play.

Steve wakes up because the moon is screaming at him. He howls just once before he slips off the bed and slips out of his skin.

a gift for kotariverroad and a fill for my '22-'23 kinktober bingo: frottage + scent kink + monsterfucking. updates & my other kinktober fics here!

this fic is finished and will post every 3 days until complete!

[birthev]

My job requires me to learn more about obsolete media and this week, I learned about something called the "Minifon". This was an audio reel recorder in the 50s and 60s, and what made it special is that it was small enough that it could easily be carried around in a pocket, for example.

This made it perfect for secret recordings. In fact, this was such a common usage that one of the typical accessories was a microphone disguised as a wristwatch. A wire could run up through your sleeve and connect with the recorder. You had to be careful, though, because the microphone was sensitive and if your clothes brushed against it, you'd just have that noise.

You can find more information <a href="https://www.cryptomuseum.com/covert/rec/minifon/mi51/index.htm">here</a>.

Side note: learning this made me think of an Iron Man Noir or early canon 616 fic where Tony or Steve uses it. Or another character, I guess. That'd be pretty cool.

[birthev]

I absolutely always overestimate what people know. But proud to report that I was reading this and my first thought was: "I don't think the average person knows this. Except if we're talking about the average linguist."

Proto-Indo-European phonology is second nature to us Indo-Europeanists that it's easy to forget that the average person proboably only knows about the rarity of Indo-European *b

[birthev]

Why orgasms are hard work: an etymology lecture

A few weeks ago, I was thinking about Dionysos (who is probably my favourite Greek deity, but I'll save that monologue for another time) and Cybele, and how they're both deities with "orgiastic rites". You might be thinking that refers to sex, and you're not entirely wrong, but it actually refers to a loss of control in general, frenzy, transgressing boundaries. Which can lead to, well, orgies and orgasms. I actually thought "orgiastic" had a different etymology than orgy, but I did some digging and I was wrong, so you're getting the results of my research. That seems like the sort of thing Tumblr would enjoy.

Both "orgiastic" and orgy are derived from "orgia", meaning "secret rites".

"Organ" (both the instrument and the thing in your body) is derived from "organon", meaning "tool".

"Orgasm" is derived from the verb "orgaô", meaning "to swell", which can literally refer to ripening fruit, but also obviously have a sense of excitement or sexual … swelling.

Greek "orgê" means "natural impulse, mood, anger, passion". The verb "orgaô" is derived from it.

You might wonder what even the connection is between all these words and meanings. It gets even better because "orgia", "organon" and "orgê" are all related to the word "(w)ergon", meaning "work", which not-so-coincidentally is actually related to its meaning through a Proto-Indo-European root *werǵ- ("to make").

Conclusion: rites and orgies are work, organs are tools for work (including that kind of work, I can hear you thinking), emotions are an inclination to work/do something, including ripening and swelling of different kinds, sometimes leading to an orgasm. If you want, you can probably get some more sex jokes from this, like something about sex being work or a religious rite or whatever. An orgasm could probably also refer to an explosion of anger/passion originally.

Thank you for coming to my lecture on etymology. The exam is next week. Performing orgiastic rites or having orgasms or using any tools is considered cheating (pun intended). Work, anger, passion, excitement and the organs needed for the exam are allowed.