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Tiago V
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I need to see this article but I can't open it. Maybe because I have to log in and I don't have username. thanks
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Help me to see this: http://muse.jhu.edu/journals/classical_world/v100/100.1anhalt.html?
Caroline H
New member
I can see it fine. Here it is:
"Why is it so important to read Greek and Latin when all of the ancient texts have already been translated into English many times?" Most of us have heard this question more than once. What does it mean to read Greek and Latin? In theory, reading means decoding and comprehending in the way that someone who is bilingual in English and Spanish reads English without having to translate the words mentally into Spanish and reads Spanish without having to translate into English. But in practice, few readers of Greek and Latin reach this degree of fluency. And the very concept can be difficult to convey. I think of the story of the professor of Beginning Greek whose students asked him, toward the end of the semester, whether he himself could read Greek fluently. "I think," he responded thoughtfully, "that it's actually only in the last few years that I've been able to read Greek without any English meanings coming to mind." His students looked a little baffled. "We've been reading Greek all semester," one volunteered, "without any English meanings coming to mind."
Reading proves elusive in large part because "English meanings" do not tidily correspond either to Greek and Latin grammatical structures or to the words themselves. Students are always surprised at the range of very disparate meanings that the dictionary often gives for a single word. We all generally cope by rendering the same word differently in different contexts, but this alters the effect of the repetition in the original text. In class discussions, it is economical to speak of pietas or furor, for example, rather than to try to find a single English equivalent. Since not infrequently no single English word fully equates with the original Greek or Latin word, one goal of reading these languages must be to become familiar with the range of implications of any given word.
In language classes, though, most of us expect our students not to read but to translate. Students often write out fluid English translations of the assigned Greek or Latin passages. Many develop elaborate, color-coded systems. Some even copy the texts into their notebooks so that they can write in the English translation on alternating lines. Inevitably, in preparing homework assignments, in translating in class, in reviewing for quizzes and tests, most students spend much more time looking at their English versions of the text than decoding the Greek or Latin text itself. Frequently, students' English versions are more like paraphrases or a kind of free-association composite of selective vocabulary definitions with insufficient attention to word formations and grammatical rules. It is difficult to discuss textual issues, themes, and images when students' "translations" reflect what the student expects the text to say rather than what it actually does say.
But it is also difficult to encourage students to read, to decode the actual text each time they encounter it. Most of us tell them not to write out a fluid English translation. We insist that, instead, they keep a running list of parsed words, including only those words that they cannot easily identify and whose grammatical function they do not instantly recognize. But this is a hard sell. Students feel more secure if they possess a readable English version. The alternative procedure is time-consuming, initially at least, and it is dull. The list for just the first two lines of the Aeneid, for example, produced by a very inexperienced student, might look something like this: [End Page 45]
arma: arma, -orum, noun. nt. nom. acc. pl. "arms, weapons." Dir. obj. of cano.
virum: vir, viri, noun. masc. acc. sing. "man." Dir. obj. of cano.
cano: cano, canere, cecini, cantus, verb. pres. indic. act. 1st pers. sing. "to sing (of), to celebrate in song." Main verb.
Troiae: Troia, -ae, noun. fem. gen. dat. sing. or nom. pl. "(coasts) of Troy."
qui:qui, quae, quod, rel. pron. masc. nom. sing. or masc. nom. pl. "who." Subject of venit. Antecedent=virum.
primus: primus, -a, -um, adj. superl. of prior, prius. masc. nom. sing. "first." Modifies qui.
ab: a, ab, abs, prep. with abl. "from, away from."
oris: ora, -ae, noun. fem. abl. or dat. pl. "border, boundary, coastline, coast." Obj. of ab.
Italiam: Italia, -ae, noun. fem. acc. sing. sc. ad (="to"). "Italy."
fato: fatum, -i, noun. nt. abl. or dat. sing. "divine utterance, destiny, fate, appointed order of the world." Abl. of means/instrument or abl. of cause.
profugus: profugus, -a, -um, adj. masc. nom. sing. "fugitive, exile, wandering." Modifies qui.
Lavina: Lavinus, -a, -um (=Lavinius, -a, -um), adj. nt. acc. or nom. pl. or fem. nom. sing. "Lavinian." Modifies litora (line 3). sc. ad (="to").
venit: venio, -ire, veni, ventus, verb. pf. indic. act. 3rd pers. sing. "to come." Verb in relative clause. Subject=qui.
With experience, the process becomes less labo
"Why is it so important to read Greek and Latin when all of the ancient texts have already been translated into English many times?" Most of us have heard this question more than once. What does it mean to read Greek and Latin? In theory, reading means decoding and comprehending in the way that someone who is bilingual in English and Spanish reads English without having to translate the words mentally into Spanish and reads Spanish without having to translate into English. But in practice, few readers of Greek and Latin reach this degree of fluency. And the very concept can be difficult to convey. I think of the story of the professor of Beginning Greek whose students asked him, toward the end of the semester, whether he himself could read Greek fluently. "I think," he responded thoughtfully, "that it's actually only in the last few years that I've been able to read Greek without any English meanings coming to mind." His students looked a little baffled. "We've been reading Greek all semester," one volunteered, "without any English meanings coming to mind."
Reading proves elusive in large part because "English meanings" do not tidily correspond either to Greek and Latin grammatical structures or to the words themselves. Students are always surprised at the range of very disparate meanings that the dictionary often gives for a single word. We all generally cope by rendering the same word differently in different contexts, but this alters the effect of the repetition in the original text. In class discussions, it is economical to speak of pietas or furor, for example, rather than to try to find a single English equivalent. Since not infrequently no single English word fully equates with the original Greek or Latin word, one goal of reading these languages must be to become familiar with the range of implications of any given word.
In language classes, though, most of us expect our students not to read but to translate. Students often write out fluid English translations of the assigned Greek or Latin passages. Many develop elaborate, color-coded systems. Some even copy the texts into their notebooks so that they can write in the English translation on alternating lines. Inevitably, in preparing homework assignments, in translating in class, in reviewing for quizzes and tests, most students spend much more time looking at their English versions of the text than decoding the Greek or Latin text itself. Frequently, students' English versions are more like paraphrases or a kind of free-association composite of selective vocabulary definitions with insufficient attention to word formations and grammatical rules. It is difficult to discuss textual issues, themes, and images when students' "translations" reflect what the student expects the text to say rather than what it actually does say.
But it is also difficult to encourage students to read, to decode the actual text each time they encounter it. Most of us tell them not to write out a fluid English translation. We insist that, instead, they keep a running list of parsed words, including only those words that they cannot easily identify and whose grammatical function they do not instantly recognize. But this is a hard sell. Students feel more secure if they possess a readable English version. The alternative procedure is time-consuming, initially at least, and it is dull. The list for just the first two lines of the Aeneid, for example, produced by a very inexperienced student, might look something like this: [End Page 45]
arma: arma, -orum, noun. nt. nom. acc. pl. "arms, weapons." Dir. obj. of cano.
virum: vir, viri, noun. masc. acc. sing. "man." Dir. obj. of cano.
cano: cano, canere, cecini, cantus, verb. pres. indic. act. 1st pers. sing. "to sing (of), to celebrate in song." Main verb.
Troiae: Troia, -ae, noun. fem. gen. dat. sing. or nom. pl. "(coasts) of Troy."
qui:qui, quae, quod, rel. pron. masc. nom. sing. or masc. nom. pl. "who." Subject of venit. Antecedent=virum.
primus: primus, -a, -um, adj. superl. of prior, prius. masc. nom. sing. "first." Modifies qui.
ab: a, ab, abs, prep. with abl. "from, away from."
oris: ora, -ae, noun. fem. abl. or dat. pl. "border, boundary, coastline, coast." Obj. of ab.
Italiam: Italia, -ae, noun. fem. acc. sing. sc. ad (="to"). "Italy."
fato: fatum, -i, noun. nt. abl. or dat. sing. "divine utterance, destiny, fate, appointed order of the world." Abl. of means/instrument or abl. of cause.
profugus: profugus, -a, -um, adj. masc. nom. sing. "fugitive, exile, wandering." Modifies qui.
Lavina: Lavinus, -a, -um (=Lavinius, -a, -um), adj. nt. acc. or nom. pl. or fem. nom. sing. "Lavinian." Modifies litora (line 3). sc. ad (="to").
venit: venio, -ire, veni, ventus, verb. pf. indic. act. 3rd pers. sing. "to come." Verb in relative clause. Subject=qui.
With experience, the process becomes less labo