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Catullus
Module 5 (first reading module)
How to Use this Reading Guide:
1. Read through the whole guide once.
2. Read through a second time, and as you read, write out your own translation of each
of the three poems. You may find it easier to write the translation for each poem
once you finish that section, but most likely you’ll want to chunk it up, and write your
version in two- or three-line segments. As you write, you may find it helpful to add
notes in your margin to remind you of how to deal with more difficult parts of the
poem.
3. As you progress through the module practice and formative assessment, be ready to
modify your translation as your understanding improves.
4. Type out your translation and submit it to your teacher for review in the assignments
area of this lesson. Note that your teacher will not have time to give you detailed
feedback, so it’s up to you to double check your work. On the other hand, if you
come across major problems, try to consult your teacher in office hours before
submitting the assignment.
5. Use your translation, alongside this guide, to help you with the final module
assessment.
A note on the notes: yes, there’s a lot of information here, for what appears to be a
very small number of lines. Our purpose here is to ensure that, as you start reading real
Latin, you read carefully and precisely. You may not need all these notes to understand
much of the poem, but read through them carefully and be ready to improve your grasp of
the poem with their help. Understand, too, that the notes give you fair warning of the kinds
of question we’ll be asking you in quizzes. For instance, on initial reading, could you tell me
why the mood of dono in line 1 is interesting? I’m guessing not...
By the way, you won’t always get this kind of intensive help, so work hard to pick up
the habit of careful reading now. And remember that this lesson is supposed to be the bulk
of your work for the week, so spend some time on it.
A Dedication: Catullus 1
cui dono lepidum novum libellum
arida modo pumice expolitum?
Corneli, tibi: namque tu solebas
meas esse aliquid putare nugas.
Iam tum, cum ausus es unus Italorum
omne aevum tribus explicare cartis...
doctis, Iuppiter, et laboriosis!
quare habe tibi quidquid hoc libelli
qualecumque, quod, o patrona virgo,
plus uno maneat perenne saeclo!
Notes and Vocab:
1.
● cui: interrogative pronoun (“to whom?”), not a relative pronoun here. Read ahead
to the sentence end to find the question mark (admittedly a modern editorial
convention, but very helpful!)
● dono: “give, present”. Note that this isn’t quite the same as do, dare - it suggests
a more formal action. It’s interesting that Catullus uses the indicative here, rather
than the subjunctive: donem would be the more usual way to ask this question,
since it seems to be a deliberative one (remember, deliberative questions are one
way the subjunctive is used independently). We can explain the choice in two ways,
both of which may have some truth in them: 1) the indicative is part of the poem’s
conversational tone - Catullus is deliberately using poor grammar to make himself
sound like a regular joe! 2) he doesn’t want us to read the question as deliberative,
in which case our challenge is to translate out exactly what kind of question it is.
“To whom am I (now, really) giving the book? To you!” In this case (as often in
Catullus) we would have to imagine the poem as a kind of dramatic commentary,
asking the reader to imagine a scene unfolding right now before their eyes.
● libellum: this is a diminutive form of liber (“book, scroll”). Something like “little
book”. Catullus is being modest here, though his book would certainly have been
much smaller than the ambitious works of Cornelius Nepos. Catullus was clearly a
fan of the third century BCE Greek poet Callimachus, whose motto was “Big book?
Big mistake!”
2
● arida: the final a is long - this is an ablative of instrument. The instrument is
actually the noun, pumice; the verb which takes the instrument is the participle,
expolitum. “Polished off with dry pumice”. See lesson 3 in this module to
understand exactly what this means.
● modo: “just now”. This is an adverb, and therefore indeclinable (i.e. it’s not an
adjective or noun and it has no case!). It looks a lot like the dative/ablative of the
noun modus (“mode, way”), and there may well be a linguistic connection between
the two words; but for now, seeing such a link will only cause you confusion.
3
● Corneli: vocative. Second declension nouns that end -ius take this ending for the
vocative singular rather than -e. Compare, for example: Quintus -> Quinte; but
Quintius -> Quinti; and see “Marce Tulli” in the next poem. Be clear that this is not
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some strange dative form attempting to agree with the tibi that follows! “Corneli,
tibi” answers the question Catullus has asked in the first line.
namque: a longer version of the more common nam (“for, because”). Catullus is
fond of this kind of diction (diction = choice of words), which generally gives his
poetry a more informal, conversational feel. Compare qualecumque below. You
might (and I hate to say this) compare the modern fashion for adding a meaningless
“like” to your sentences to maintain conversational flow.
A side note for linguisitics geeks: -que is what we call an enclitic word - it “leans
upon” the word before it, and rather than playing its own role in the sentence, it
modifies, extends or enhances the power of that word. “Like”, as described above, is
pretty much an English enclitic, and next time you get scolded for using it, you might
be able to defend yourself with this knowledge. Enclitics are really interesting. And
believe it or not, there are even things called proclitics!
tu: remember that we don’t need to use a pronoun for a subject in Latin; if it’s
there, it’s there for a reason, usually to add emphasis. So rather than “You were
accustomed,” perhaps “it was you who were accustomed” - or something like that.
4.
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solebas... esse... putare: a cascade of (two) infinitives! putare depends upon (i.e.
is expected by) the main verb, solebas. As in English, this verb generally has
incomplete sense (“you were accustomed to... what?”) until it is complemented by
an infinitive (so we call putare here a complementary infinitive). But since putare
is also a verb, it can have other verbs depend on it, as is the case here: esse is an
infinitive in indirect speech, depending on putare. As often, this indirect speech
infinitive has a subject (meas nugas), which must be expressed in the accusative
case. Why? Because the subject of an infinitive is always accusative, with one
exception. Consult your grammar lessons for that exception, and don’t be surprised
to find it on a quiz!
translation note: when dealing with accusative/infinitive construction in indirect
speech, be sure to translate into good English. Generally make sure you link your
dependent clause to the main one with “that”, and use a finite verb, of appropriate
tense, in the dependent clause. Here, “think that my trifles were...” (← note “were”,
not “are”), not “thought to be”.
It’s worth wondering why Catullus uses the imperfect tense for the main verb here
(“solebas”). Does he mean to imply that Cornelius has now changed his mind?
Consider for yourself whether there are other ways to explain the past tense.
aliquid: an indefinite pronoun (remember, a pronoun is a word that stands in for
a noun; it’s called indefinite because it doesn’t refer to a clearly identified thing);
“something”.
5.
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iam tum cum: it’s hard to translate these words separately - together they form one
temporal idea, almost a single temporal adverb: “at that very time when...”, or “just
when.” Putting iam and tum together (two words with almost the same meaning) is
another example of Catullus’ conversational repetitiveness (see on namque above).
cum... ausus es: a temporal cum clause (“when clause”). The indicative mood is
used here because the clause simply expresses the time of an action (A happened
when B happened), not the circumstance. Remember, circumstantial cum clauses
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use the subjunctive, which would be “ausus sis”; and remember too that this
distinction is a very difficult one to grasp in, or translate into English. For now it
is important that you simply note when a cum clause is temporal and when it is
circumstantial.
ausus es: audeo is a semi-deponent - this is its perfect form, and though passive in
form, it is active in meaning. This is one of those things you need to “just know”.
unus Italorum: “you alone of the Italians” - note that Catullus does not say
“Romans” here. Neither he nor Nepos was born in Rome. unus is being used here
as if it’s equivalent to solus.
6.
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aevum: “the age”, or “history”. Like the Greeks before them, the Romans didn’t
have as simplistic a concept of “history” as we do, and used a number of different
words which challenge us to produce a good translation. saeclum (see the last line
of the poem) is another such word.
tribus... cartis: “in three volumes” (instrumental ablative). By describing Nepos’
volumes (i.e. parchment rolls) of history as carta, I suspect Catullus means us to see
them as forbidding works - huge, intimidating pieces of paper, inspiring the feeling
you might be getting at this point in reading these notes... It may or may not be
relevant that in poem 36 Catullus refers to the historical works of another writer as
cacata carta - “poopy papers” (feel free to look it up!).
explicare: complementary infinitive, depending on ausus es. Though it can be fairly
translated as “explain”, it does call to mind the unrolling of a parchment roll.
7.
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Iuppiter: an exclamation (“By Jove!”). It’s not clear from this instance, but nouns
used as exclamations are often in the accusative case.
doctis... laboriosis: doctus is a key word for Catullus, the sign of a good poet. It’s
not clear, however, whether the second adjective is an unalloyed compliment.
8.
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quare: technically this is a relative pronoun (“for which reason, wherefore”). Since
English is not as comfortable as Latin with using relatives to start sentences, we
often translate with a demonstrative (“therefore”). Imagine, for instance, starting a
sentence with the relative pronoun “who” - awful in English, but fine in Latin.
habe tibi: an idiomatic dative, “have for yourself” - the dative doesn’t add any
meaning to the imperative habe, but, again, contributes to the conversational feel of
the poem. “Here ya go, take it!”
quicquid hoc libelli qualecumque: the most difficult words for us to get precisely
right. Let’s take it step by step:
○ quicquid...libelli: libelli is a partitive genitive:“however much of a book”. The
idea is continued in the next line: “and of what kind”.
○ hoc: we could read this a the object of habe tibi: “have this” - but what do we
then do with quicquid libelli?
○ The trick here is to understand that a verb is missing (or rather, it’s implied),
and that “quicquid hoc libelli qualecumque” isn’t a noun phrase, but rather a
noun clause. That implied verb is either est or sit (more likely the latter); and
the whole clause is the object of the verb habe. Look at it like this:
○
○
habe tibi [{(quicquid libelli) (qualecumque)} sit hoc]: “have for yourself
[however much of a book and of whatever kind this thing may be]
Does that make sense to you? Awesome! Pat yourself on the back. I’ll bet
90% of the people who think they understand this poem couldn’t explain this
line correctly. And notice how, in the midst of all this conversational diction,
Catullus has thrown in a real stumper to see just how docti we really are.
9.
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quod... maneat: It’s hard to translate this relative pronoun well, especially as the
object of the jussive subjunctive maneat (“may it last”); but understand first that
the Latin speaker will see a strong connection with the demonstrative pronoun hoc
in the previous line (we call this a correlative construction, something we’ll pay
more attention to when we get to Cicero), which makes the relative pronoun feel
less awkward in Latin; then, see above on starting sentences or (in this case) new
thoughts with a relative. The short answer here, by the way, is that decent English
is going to require turning this into a different kind of pronoun - probably “it” will
suffice. On the other hand, if you can find a way to translate it literally (“which”)
that still makes sense in English, your teacher will be most impressed.
uno saeclo: ablative of comparison, where the comparative word is plus. “More than
one...” The meaning of saeclum is up for interpretation here, but it’s probably best
translated as “generation”.
perenne: another instance where the meaning is clear enough, but translation is
hard. Think of the English phrase “stay strong” - the adjective perenne (agreeing
with the neuter pronoun quod) is being used in the same way here as “strong” in
that phrase (we call that a predicative use, by the way).
Whew, we made it! You might want to go through the Learning Object on this poem now to
solidify your understanding, and then take the formative assessment while it’s still fresh.
Meanwhile, a poem about Cicero: Catullus 49:
DISERTISSIME Romuli nepotum,
quot sunt quotque fuere, Marce Tulli,
quotque post aliis erunt in annis,
gratias tibi maximas Catullus
agit pessimus omnium poeta,
tanto pessimus omnium poeta,
quanto tu optimus omnium patronus.
Notes and Vocab:
1.
● disertissime: vocative case, superlative form of the adjective.
● Romuli: genitive. Romulus is one of the founders of Rome, so all Romans are in a
sense his “nephews” or “descendants” (nepotes). Interesting that he uses the term
of Cicero, who was from the town of Arpinum, about 60 miles from Rome, but who
- after the Catilinian conspiracy, as we’ll learn later - styled himself almost as a new
●
founder of the city.
nepotum: genitive plural. When genitive is used with a superlative (“the most x
of all the y”), we consider that to be a partitive genitive. Note that we have two
genitives in this line: Romuli is possessive, and nepotum (which it modifies, as we
say - i.e. that’s what Romuli possesses) is partitive.
2.
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quot: yet another relative that’s hard to put into English. To understand why we’re
calling it a relative, try replacing it with “qui” - same structure, and almost the
same meaning, right? Well, not quite the same meaning. So, perhaps “as many
[descendants of Romulus] as there are...”
fuere: get used to seeing this alternative form of the perfect 3rd person plural
(=fuerunt). You don’t see it much when learning the grammar, but it’s very common
indeed, especially in poetry.
Marce Tulli: when translating names, always use the nominative form. Given that
both of these are vocative, you shouldn’t have too much trouble switching them back
to that form.
3.
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post: this can be an adverb (“afterwards”) or a preposition (“after the...”). This can
be cause for much confusion. I suggest you try taking it as an adverb here.
aliis... annis: it’s time for you to get used to seeing adjectives split away from the
nouns they describe, often by a distance of many words. It’s especially common to
see a preposition (here in) coming between the noun and the adjective.
5.
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6-7.
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pessimus... poeta: in apposition to the proper noun Catullus.
omnium: partitive genitive with superlative pessimus (see above).
tanto... quanto: a correlative construction--a demonstrative (here tanto) that
either describes the antecedent to a relative (here quanto), or that is the pronoun
antecedent to the relative. In this case it’s a pronoun, and therefore it is the
antecedent. A very important point of translation: with correlatives, it’s rarely
good English to translate fully both demonstrative and relative. To use this as an
example: the literal translation would be “by so much... as much as”. Better would
be “by so much the worst poet as you are the best patron.”
patronus: an odd compliment, unless we are to believe that Cicero was Catullus’
patron, which is very unlikely. Why does Catullus not continue praising Cicero as an
orator?
A dismissive poem about Julius Caesar: Catullus 93:
NIL nimium studeo, Caesar, tibi uelle placere,
nec scire utrum sis albus an ater homo.
Notes and vocab:
1.
● Nil: equivalent to nihil, “nothing”; but here it’s used adverbially (as certain neuter
nouns sometimes are), “not at all”.
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studeo: beware of translating into similar-looking English words. “Study” isn’t really
going to fit here.
tibi: this dative is the indirect object of placere. Since we usually use a direct object
for this verb in English (“to please someone”), we need to remind ourselves that it
takes a dative object in Latin.
velle: complementary infinitive with studeo. It’s because studeo is used like this, by
the way, that we can’t get away with taking nil as its direct object. It’s hard to have
it both ways. Note too that placere is the complementary infinitive governed by velle
(“to want to please”); it would be easy to get these mixed up, so make sure you’re
clear on what goes with what.
2.
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Nec: note the indentation of the second line: that’s an editorial clue to the rhythm
(or rather, meter) of the poem. We’re not worrying about that just yet...
scire: another complementary infinitive for studeo.
utrum sis: why a subjunctive verb here? It’s because this is an indirect question
- and note that those are not always introduced by verbs that have an obvious
questioning sense. Here the verb on which the question clause depends is “scire”,
to know. utrum is a question word (an indirect interrogative, to be precise) you use
when your question has exactly two alternative answers.
albus... ater homo: it would be great to know why Catullus asks (or rather refuses
to ask) this question. Why would anyone want to know whether Caesar is black
or white? The easy answer is to associate white with with openness (compare
the wearing of a plain white toga when one is campaigning for political office, as a
candidatus), but perhaps there’s more to the story. Catullus seems to be suggesting
that Caesar wants reassurance on the point. “You know I’m all white, don’t you,
Catullus?” “I really couldn’t care less, Caesar...”