Just an addendum to the post I discovered Virgilius appears in Umberto Eco’s semiotic Medieval mystery The Name of the Rose! Here is the passage -““The men of my islands are all a bit mad,” William said proudly. “Let us look in the other case.” “Virgil.” “What is he doing here? What Virgil? The Georgics?” “No. Epitomae. I’ve never heard of it.” “But it’s Virgil of Toulouse, the rhetorician, six centuries after the birth of our Lord. He was considered a great sage….” “Here it says that the arts are poema, rethoria, grama, leporia, dialecta, geometria…. But what language was he writing?” “Latin. A Latin of his own invention, however, which he considered far more beautiful. Read this; he says that astronomy studies the signs of the zodiac, which are mon, man, tonte, piron, dameth, perfellea, belgalic, margaleth, lutamiron, taminon, and raphalut.” “Was he crazy?” “I don’t know: he didn’t come from my islands. And listen to this; he says there are twelve ways of designating fire: ignis, coquihabin (quia incocta coquendi habet dictionem), ardo, calax ex calore, fragon ex fragore flammae, rusin de rubore, fumaton, ustrax de urendo, vitius quia pene mortua membra suo vivificat, siluleus, quod de silice siliat, unde et silex non recte dicitur, nisi ex qua scintilla silit. And aeneon, de Aenea deo, qui in eo habitat, sive a quo elementis flatus fertur.” “But there’s no one who speaks like that!” “Happily. But those were times when, to forget an evil world, grammarians took pleasure in abstruse questions. I was told that in that period, for fifteen days and fifteen nights, the rhetoricians Gabundus and Terentius argued on the vocative of ‘ego,’ and in the end they attacked each other, with weapons.” “But this, too. Listen….” I had grasped a book marvelously illuminated with vegetable labyrinths from which monkeys and serpents peered out. “Listen to these words: cantamen, collamen, gongelamen, stemiamen, plasmamem, sonerus, alboreus, gaudifluus, glaucicomus….” “My islands,” William said again, with tenderness. “Don’t be too harsh with those monks of far-off Hibernia. Perhaps, if this abbey exists and if we still speak of the Holy Roman Empire, we owe it to them. At that time, the rest of Europe was reduced to a heap of ruins; one day they declared invalid all baptisms imparted by certain priests in Gaul because they baptized “in nomine patris et filiae’—and not because they practiced a new heresy and considered Jesus a woman, but because they no longer knew any Latin.” (Name of the Rose, pp. 302-303)
So, so fascinating! Thanks so much, Andrew, for a brilliant introduction to a very quaint and interesting author. I’ll be sure to look into Rey’s scholarship in particular.
Your mention of 'inscrutari' really peaked my interest. You rightly sense that this word isn’t very prestigious, a bit niche, a bit late. But I'm not sure it should completely cede its authenticity: Judging from the TLL, 'inscrutor' appears in Augustine, and he is clearly fond of the derivative adjective 'inscrutabilis', which appears to have been far more popular.
Permit me, Andrew, a perfect digression: As I read the sources, I couldn't help but notice Jerome's translation of Jeremiah 17:9, "Pravum est cor omnium, et inscrutabile : quis cognoscet illud ? ". The Hebrew word that Jerome translates is אנוש. It has a Holam in the Massoretic text, which means "human". That is probably why the Septuagint simply translates it as ἂνθρωπος. Jerome comments, however, that he is reading אנוש with a Shuruk (Comm. in Ierm. 17 V. 9-10), which according to him ought to be translated 'Inscrutabile, sive desperabile'. I haven't an inkling why! I'll look into it soon, probably, as I'm working on a post on Christian Hebraists commening on the Bible.
So: I surmise that it is a late word certainly, and probably not of highborn Latinity; but still a part of the lexicon before Virgil Grammaticus. But you tell me!
Dear Asaf thanks so much I will look into this and post what I find. Virgilius did use Jerome as one of his sources so this makes sense. Many thanks for reading!
Just an addendum to the post I discovered Virgilius appears in Umberto Eco’s semiotic Medieval mystery The Name of the Rose! Here is the passage -““The men of my islands are all a bit mad,” William said proudly. “Let us look in the other case.” “Virgil.” “What is he doing here? What Virgil? The Georgics?” “No. Epitomae. I’ve never heard of it.” “But it’s Virgil of Toulouse, the rhetorician, six centuries after the birth of our Lord. He was considered a great sage….” “Here it says that the arts are poema, rethoria, grama, leporia, dialecta, geometria…. But what language was he writing?” “Latin. A Latin of his own invention, however, which he considered far more beautiful. Read this; he says that astronomy studies the signs of the zodiac, which are mon, man, tonte, piron, dameth, perfellea, belgalic, margaleth, lutamiron, taminon, and raphalut.” “Was he crazy?” “I don’t know: he didn’t come from my islands. And listen to this; he says there are twelve ways of designating fire: ignis, coquihabin (quia incocta coquendi habet dictionem), ardo, calax ex calore, fragon ex fragore flammae, rusin de rubore, fumaton, ustrax de urendo, vitius quia pene mortua membra suo vivificat, siluleus, quod de silice siliat, unde et silex non recte dicitur, nisi ex qua scintilla silit. And aeneon, de Aenea deo, qui in eo habitat, sive a quo elementis flatus fertur.” “But there’s no one who speaks like that!” “Happily. But those were times when, to forget an evil world, grammarians took pleasure in abstruse questions. I was told that in that period, for fifteen days and fifteen nights, the rhetoricians Gabundus and Terentius argued on the vocative of ‘ego,’ and in the end they attacked each other, with weapons.” “But this, too. Listen….” I had grasped a book marvelously illuminated with vegetable labyrinths from which monkeys and serpents peered out. “Listen to these words: cantamen, collamen, gongelamen, stemiamen, plasmamem, sonerus, alboreus, gaudifluus, glaucicomus….” “My islands,” William said again, with tenderness. “Don’t be too harsh with those monks of far-off Hibernia. Perhaps, if this abbey exists and if we still speak of the Holy Roman Empire, we owe it to them. At that time, the rest of Europe was reduced to a heap of ruins; one day they declared invalid all baptisms imparted by certain priests in Gaul because they baptized “in nomine patris et filiae’—and not because they practiced a new heresy and considered Jesus a woman, but because they no longer knew any Latin.” (Name of the Rose, pp. 302-303)
So, so fascinating! Thanks so much, Andrew, for a brilliant introduction to a very quaint and interesting author. I’ll be sure to look into Rey’s scholarship in particular.
Your mention of 'inscrutari' really peaked my interest. You rightly sense that this word isn’t very prestigious, a bit niche, a bit late. But I'm not sure it should completely cede its authenticity: Judging from the TLL, 'inscrutor' appears in Augustine, and he is clearly fond of the derivative adjective 'inscrutabilis', which appears to have been far more popular.
Permit me, Andrew, a perfect digression: As I read the sources, I couldn't help but notice Jerome's translation of Jeremiah 17:9, "Pravum est cor omnium, et inscrutabile : quis cognoscet illud ? ". The Hebrew word that Jerome translates is אנוש. It has a Holam in the Massoretic text, which means "human". That is probably why the Septuagint simply translates it as ἂνθρωπος. Jerome comments, however, that he is reading אנוש with a Shuruk (Comm. in Ierm. 17 V. 9-10), which according to him ought to be translated 'Inscrutabile, sive desperabile'. I haven't an inkling why! I'll look into it soon, probably, as I'm working on a post on Christian Hebraists commening on the Bible.
So: I surmise that it is a late word certainly, and probably not of highborn Latinity; but still a part of the lexicon before Virgil Grammaticus. But you tell me!
Dear Asaf thanks so much I will look into this and post what I find. Virgilius did use Jerome as one of his sources so this makes sense. Many thanks for reading!
Please do so. I'll be in your debt (though that is nothing new!)
Now do Wokespeak