My dog's name:
* Adverb

Things I actually call my dog in practice:
* Darling
* Sweetheart
* Kid
* Kiddo
* Dog
* Small Dog
* This Dog
* Dogkin
* Dogface
* Dogarooni
* Doggy-Dog
* Dog who Dogs like a Dog
* Pup
* Pup-Dog
* Puppy
* Pupperoni
* Pup-Tart
* Puppernickel
* Pup de Pup
* Goofball
* Little Mister Paranoid
* Communist Inspector
* Good Boy!
Everyone wants some awkward Greek translation, right? Right!

Theogony 1-206 )
Behold, a clunky as heck translation of the third book of his work. In which he ramps up to explaining all the reasons why there is no immortal soul, and thus there's no reason to be afraid of death.

Awkwardly translated text! )
So, graduate school! I've now had one week of real proper classes, though I still haven't been to two of the seven, on account of labor day. Monday's my roughest day, with three classes: the archeology lecture, Latin sight-reading, then Hesiod. Eek. At least only two of those assign homework/paper/readings, eh? Anyway, so far:

* Greek sight-reading is a delight. Very challenging, because we're reading Homer, who I haven't done in something like five years, and my Greek sight-reading is always pretty shaky on the vocab even before we get to the Homer-specific vocab. But still, a great deal of fun; the prof keeps repeating that it's a No Shame class and that no question is too basic to ask, and she'll explain the parsing on things as she gives answers. Three students, one professor, round table, photocopied bits of the Iliad. I'm pleased.

* Archeology is both a lot of fun and quite intimidating. There's a 24-page paper assigned (on top of some map quizzes, tests, and so forth) where I need to focus on, you know, artifacts. Not text. Every time I come up with a topic idea, I find myself going over all the textual support for it, not the artifact-based support. It's a very different way of thinking about things! Which means this is exactly the kind of class I need to take. It'll expand my academic horizons usefully.

* Lucretius is darling, and pretty grammatically straightforward; most of my hiccups so far have been when I can't figure out if a final A is long or short, or forgetting the gender of less common vocabulary. I suppose this means I should get better at my scansion so that I can work these things out myself in that whole slew of frustrating endings for first declension nouns/adjectives. I have two presentations and a big paper on him, and the first presentation is coming up fast, but I think I'll be okay. I can do a half hour on Herculaneum if I just prep properly. It's interesting!

* German Reading is...pretty much exactly what I expected! The book charges briskly through basic grammatical concepts, and so does the class. Having taken two semesters of regular German is helping immensely for pronunciation when I read aloud and for some of the vocab. Which reminds me that I ought to go study for Tuesday's vocab quiz.

* And then there's Intro to CNES, which might as well be called How To Grad Student. We started out with the history of the department, to explain some rather puzzling organizational issues, and we're spending our next two sessions in the main library with various librarians, learning how to, well, library. ("You might not know about the secret collections--well, they're not supposed to be secret, but you wouldn't know on walking in to ask after them," the prof says.) Future sessions cover things like: attending conferences and giving papers at them; professional behavior with respect to your colleagues; technology for teaching; how to handle sensitive topics in teaching; different styles of research; resumes, CVs, and job hunting as an academic; and, well, so forth. It seems like an immensely useful class. Do all grad schools have one of those?

On the more lifestyle side of things... I am learning that Minneapolis is super walkable, but that I still hate walking in sunlight. (That may change as it gets colder.) The Green Line is my new best friend. The bars aimed at students are just as mediocre here as they are in Austin, which is no huge surprise. (I was served two tacos that were basically just...mini unfolded burritos. Tasty, but not very taco-like.) It's tricky to work out groceries to haul on the train that'll last most of a week and give me multiple dinner options without too much prep. Adverb is better at being an apartment dog than I would've suspected. The apartment is quieter than I dared hope, except on every other Saturday, when the tailgate parties start at 8am...

I'm lonely, off and on. I miss my cat(s). I miss my spouse and my house and my housemate and having a yard with a doggy door instead of having to watch for Adverb's sign he needs to go outside, which consists of staring at me quietly until I get the hint. I miss the chest freezer and the HEB. And the amount of Things To Do that I have coming up, academically, is absolutely staggering: three classes with big papers, vocab study and grammar study and academic reading and presentations and a HUGE amount of translation, and that's before getting into the vast and terrifying reading list for PhD students. And I do worry that I don't have a very tight focus on my thesis-to-be, yet; heck, I haven't even figured out what my obligatory minor will be.

But overall, I'm happy. And I'm getting things done, and I'm trying to get into a routine of reasonably healthy eating and walking and so forth that'll stand me well as a habit once I'm beaten down by snow, papers, and the general grind of things.

So that's the state of me.
fadeaccompli: (determination)
( Sep. 3rd, 2016 09:27 am)
Ah, I remember when I used to have theme and focus for my posts! But anyway.

* Endure is a tiny game by Emily Short, in which you translate a few lines of the Odyssey. In four different styles, piece by piece, for very different translated results. (Refresh to play again, if you've translated all the Greek and want to see it in different styles.) Very simple, and yet some great thought-provoking depth in what it's doing.

* Minneapolis has been lying to me, I've been assured. The weather has been gorgeous since I got here, it was gorgeous during my visit, and right now the temperatures are ambling toward my absolute favorite level of coolth. I will surely be shaking my fist at the sky come proper winter.

* There are a lot of dogs in this complex, as expected. What I had not expected was how many of them are completely outside the listed weight restriction. Neither that husky, that golden lab, nor that big brown dog that was yelling at us from the balcony is under 30 pounds. (And that pointer puppy is not going to be 30 pounds once he's grown up, either.) I'll just assume they got special exemptions made on the lease. But it does mean Adverb has been doing some cowering behind my legs as enormous dogs yell at/try to play with him.

To be fair, he also cowers behind my legs with small dogs yell at/try to play with him.

* Classes start on Tuesday. Right now, I am registered for seven classes, which is not quite as absurd as it sounds. Three of them are quite solid graduate courses (Hesiod, Roman Philosophy, Archeology of Pre-Historic Europe), but two are sight-reading classes with no homework, one is German reading, and one is an intro-to-CNES (Classics and Near Eastern Studies) course that's all reading and discussion. All but the archeology course only meet once a week, which means my schedule is bizarre and occasionally hilarious.

* As a Classics track PhD student, I get the full reading list that Latin PhD students do, and the full reading list that Greek PhD students do. I counted. 58 authors, many of whom I'm reading multiple works from. (Some of whom I'm only reading excerpts from, and a handful I only have to read in translation.) It's going to be a very busy...forever.

* We went to a meeting where all the current grad students talked about what they'd did with summer funding. "Don't expect us to be able to send you all over Europe," the program head reminded us, as four or five people explained their summers spent traveling between programs and interesting sites all over Europe. (The rest had mostly worked on their thesis or reading list, with a general 'don't starve' stipend type of funding for the time.)

* Then there was the meeting where we covered information like "How do you know what to address a professor by?" and "What's appropriate grad student clothing for attending classes, TAing, teaching, attending conferences?" and "Health insurance: for the love of god, sign up by the deadline!" and "Please don't take out the maximum student loans you're allowed, this will cause you problems" and "Undergrads think their TA is the voice of god, do not give definitive answers to these questions yourself." It was remarkably useful on at least two levels: one, that so many 'unwritten' rules were being made explicit; two, that it makes me confident I can actually ask for help with questions like these if I'm not sure.

* In related news, I bought a small amount of very cheap slightly professional clothing. Some day I would like moderately nice rather professional clothing, but I do not trust my own fashion judgment enough to spend money on such things yet.

* The light rail here is very handy and easy to use; the bus system is, despite their website, still rather baffling.

* I want to buy a bike, and the people at the bike store were gloriously useful in helping me figure out the right bike for me, but should I buy a bike when I'm not sure if I merely want one or if I'll actually use one regularly?

* Hoping to go to the state fair today. Wish me luck.
fadeaccompli: (academia)
( Aug. 29th, 2016 02:17 pm)
I moved to Minneapolis (temporarily) for grad school.

So, yeah, that's the dominant thing occupying my thoughts right now! I'm also working on some cool IF projects, trying to drag my fanfic back to life, reassuring a travel-traumatized dog, and so forth. I want to get back into climbing. Would try to get back into crochet, but I didn't pack any of my hooks or yarn along, so that's not likely.

But mostly: moved to Minneapolis. Incoming grad school. Gonna be very busy.
fadeaccompli: (Default)
( Jun. 28th, 2016 09:00 am)
Forgive me. It's been a summer of stressful things happening, most of which are too tedious or private to talk about. But, as a summary:

- The dog is responding well to daily anti-anxiety meds. He's still a nervous little dog who barks at noises outside and pees in terror if a handybeing comes into the house, but he calms down from these things much faster than before, and spends less of the day looking paranoid. A real improvement! Though I'm still concerned about how he'll handle apartment-with-roommates living in Minneapolis.

- I went to two days of a philosophy conference last week. Specifically, a conference for the International Association of Presocratic Studies. It was a lot of fun! And has thoroughly convinced me that I need to learn French and German and Italian properly, not just for reading; too many papers are given in that language, even with provided summaries/translations in English, for me to feel like a real scholar if all I can do is read in them. It was exhausting, in a con-like way, but a lot of fun.

- Speaking of actual conventions, I went to Fourth Street Fantasy the latter half of that week, and had a fabulous time. Which I always do, honestly. The panels were largely great, there were lots of good conversations in the halls and con suite and over food, I got to see a lot of friends I only see there (and meet at least one friend in person for the first time), and, you know. Good reconnecty stuff. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy.

- The trip back was horrible, for which I mostly blame Kansas City (fairly or not), but at least I have some travel vouchers to show for it.

- We may yet get the baseboards replaced this summer. Wouldn't that be nice?

- I'm off to donate blood in something under an hour, trying frantically to finish reading Mary Beard's SPQR before I return it to the library today (so not going to finish in time), happily eyeing Genevieve Valentine's Icon (sequel to Persona, just released today and my preorder downloaded to my phone), and I'll be playing some more delightful Fantasy Life after I return that library book. It's almost like you can't tell I'm mired in paralyzing summer depression!

- I really, really want to get better at writing interactive fiction this summer. Currently I'm trying to put together a tiny text version of Spore in ChoiceScript, as a way of learning the basics of that language. We'll see how it goes.

- Still a bit terrified about moving to Minneapolis and starting grad school, but I think it's going to be great. Really stressful! But great. And it turns out I know even more people in Minneapolis than I thought, so getting further out of the house than 'move between apartment and campus, repeat, repeat' won't be as hard as I feared. Though winter will be far worse than I could possibly imagine. I have been assured of that part. Apparently someone is going to march me into a store to buy Real Winter Clothing at some point.
A few paragraphs from the children's book I'm translating awkwardly from German, with the help of Google Translate, one semester of German, and squinting a lot at cognates.

The first four pages )
Taken from the Perseus edition of the Koine, for convenience, and translated more literally than poetically:

Love and prophecy )
fadeaccompli: (determination)
( May. 9th, 2016 09:17 am)
Specifically, I'm looking for advice on this.

So here's the thing: Adverb is an anxious, distractable, stubborn, reasonably clever little dog. And not high-energy, thank god, but he's not completely inert, either. So I'd like to keep him entertained! I'd especially like to find good ways to keep him intellectually stimulated and entertained before I get to Minnesota, where he will be in a much, much smaller space, without constant yard access.

But... damned if I can figure out how. He gets very anxious on walks, so a quick walk is more likely to lead us all to frustration--or be aborted before we turn the first corner--than keep him happy. Sometimes he'll chase thrown toys, or play tug with me, but a great deal of the time he merely stares in bemusement as I wave his favorite plush in front of him. He finds puzzle toys fascinating for about two minutes, then gets bored because he doesn't have the treat yet, and ditches the whole enterprise. He'll chew on hooves or bones or pork chews sometimes with great enthusiasm, then stare in bored confusion five minutes later when I offer them to him. And he's just...not very treat-motivated. If I'm not eating it myself, he doesn't care much.

So what the heck do I do to burn some energy off this pup and keep him from barking constantly out of sheer boredom? He'll run up to me and put his paws up on my knees in a clear "Let's do a thing!" request, but then ignore all offer of toys, hate walks, etc. Maybe I just haven't had enough dogs. But I don't know what else I'm supposed to do to entertain a dog who gets bored with things so easily.

Dog people, help?
Because of a friend's grim read-through of a deeply terrible 'historical' romance set in Roman times, I ended up translating a bit of Apuleius. Or trying to translate it, in any case; without notes, it was darn rough going, as I started in the middle of a sex scene, and it's all dramatic metaphor. Below the cut is...well, sex, I guess. Very metaphorical sex. Very rough translation. Starting and ending mid-sentences, as the page numbering got me. You have been warned on all points.

Warned! )
When I read Lyndsay Faye's new book, Jane Steele, I found it so brilliant I promptly went out and looked up more books by the same author. The Gods Of Gotham is one of her earlier books, and it's not brilliant: it's merely excellent.

It's antebellum New York City, and Timothy Wilde is, through no fault of his own, strong-armed into becoming part of the brand new police service in the city, in one of the worst precincts available. (He has a rather rocky relationship with his brother Valentine, who's behind the idea.) He promptly runs into a runaway little girl covered in blood, which turns into a murder and conspiracy mystery involving a lot of grim topics: child prostitution, serial murder, poverty and abuse and racism and anti-Catholic/-Irish sentiment (I'm not sure what 'bigotry on the basis of religion' is called, so I'm lumping it into racism for now), political corruption and riots and lynchings and...

...and yet, this meticulously researched historical murder mystery isn't grimdark. It's a lot of fun. Oh, the dark topics are taken quite seriously, but much like with Jane Steele, the lively protagonist voice does wonders for keeping the reader on an even keel through some really grim topics. Things are terrible; he does his best; even some of the terrible people have moments of kindness, and some of the kindest people can do terrible things. I found the picture of the city and the characters more engaging than the mystery itself (which I had half-solved well before the protagonist simply because of conservation of characters), but it's a damn good book. I've got the sequel, Seven for a Secret, sitting in front of me right now, and as soon as I finish writing this I'm going to crack the cover and try it out.
So! I'll be attending the University of Minnesota (Twin Cities campus, Classics and Near Eastern Studies program) this fall. I am very excited! I am also anxious as heck. Much paperwork to do, must figure out residence options there and get that set up, more paperwork to do, have to set up things so that the house in Austin can run happily while I'm away, still more paperwork to do, need to see if the dog can come along and how to manage him in apartment living if so, and also I think I need to do some more paperwork.

I am very happy. But, uh, very anxious! So that's a not unexpected combination, there.
fadeaccompli: (roles)
( Apr. 4th, 2016 11:09 pm)
Then we didn't say anything. A student passed us, oblivious to the cruel events just south of him. His hat very baggy and his step very hasty and his hose very tight. There was someplace urgent he needed to be, and he wasn't going to make it there on time. It was a gorgeous calamity in scale, I thought. A lovely misfortune. Immediate and irreversible and very soon forgotten. We needed more troubles like that. Ones like burning supper for coming down with a head cold at an awkward time. I desperately wanted to pass through countless small, endurable problems with the girl sitting next to me. I didn't need much else. After all, had I funds enough to feed her whatever she wanted, and dress her as she pleased, I myself could live on small beer and artfully deflected remarks.

But I didn't have a thing to my name save a star badge with a bent point. And I had to go to the Tombs. I hadn't even the time to wait for her to speak to me.


- Lyndsay Faye, The Gods of Gotham

God damn but this woman can write. And if that up there isn't a perfect declaration of love, I don't know what is.
Daughter of Mystery, by Heather Rose Jones, is a Ruritanian fantasy about inheritance, the formulation of miracles, and falling in love. Or maybe I should say, it's what you get when you take The Goblin Emperor and replace the airships, goblins, and monarchy with lesbians, intrigue, and scholarly inquiry. (Not exactly on a one-to-one basis.) My short review is that it's a delightful book, and you should totally try it.

Longer review, not spoiling anything more than 50 pages in, follows below.

As such! )
fadeaccompli: (risky)
( Mar. 27th, 2016 11:07 am)
Easter makes me uncertain, every year. There's what I once believed, and what the people around me believe, and I find myself caught somewhat in the middle. It's not easy to dismiss everything I was taught as a child--and frankly, I don't want to dismiss all of it--but it's so damn easy to just not think about it, when I'm surrounded by those who weren't taught the same.

So I end up going back to this one:

Matthew 25:31-46 )

So that's my to-do list. Whether or not there's a literal kingdom of heaven--and frankly, most days, I take it as metaphorical, in much the way of the vineyards and prodigal sons and so forth--it's not a bad list for me to go through.

Feed the hungry and thirsty. Clothe the naked. Invite the stranger in. Look after the sick. Visit the imprisoned.

I'm not doing a very good job of it. Maybe I'll do better this year.
fadeaccompli: (academia)
( Mar. 23rd, 2016 12:31 pm)
Yes, I am totally getting to Ovid! But I felt like doing some Greek while I was out, so I tackled a bit of Acts next. Koine is weird. I don't mean that in a judgmental sort of way--all dialects are equally valid!--but it's very, mm, chatty? Lots of prepositions that don't feel necessary to me, which lead me down rabbit trails as I try to work out the specific meaning they want to use when it's really just the sort of thing I'd expect a dative on its own for. Slightly odd syntax. Simple, repetitive vocabulary. Such is. Anyway, have a few verses:

(1.1) I made my first account about all the things, Theophilus, which Jesus began to do and teach (1.2) until the day he, commanding the apostles he chose for himself by means of the holy spirit, was taken up; (1.3) the ones to whom he presented himself alive after his suffering, with many sure signs, being seen by them for forty days, and saying things about the kingdom of God.

(1.4) And when he was eating bread at the table* with them, he commanded them, "Don't depart from Jerusalem, but await the command of the father, which you heard from me; (1.5) that John baptized in water, but you will be baptized in a holy spirit after not many days."

(1.6) So when they got together they asked him, saying, "Lord, are you re-establishing the kingdom for Israel?"

(1.7) He said to them, "You do not know the times or moments which the father established in his private authority, (1.8) but you will receive power when the holy spirit comes up you, and you will be witnesses of me in Jerusalem and in all of Judea and Samaria and up to the farthest part of the land." (1.9) And having said these things, while they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him away from their eyes.

(1.10) And as they were staring into the [part of the] sky of his removal, and behold! two men stood near them in white clothing, (1.11) who said, "Galilean men, why do you stand around looking into the sky? This Jesus, the one taken up from you into the sky, will return thus in the same manner you saw him carried into the sky."

(1.12) Then they returned to Jerusalem from the mountain called Olive-Yard, which is near Jerusalem, a Sabbath-day's journey away. (1.13) And they went inside, up into the upper room where they were staying, Peter and John and James and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James son of Alphaeus and Simon the Zealot and Judas son of James. (1.14) All these men were faithful, in one accord, with prayer, along with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus and with his brothers.

(* This is a remarkably...specific...verb. Which is given that exact definition only for its appearance in Acts. As I have not studied Koine ever, I will trust the dictionary on this one; if you want a more Attic definition, try "gathering them together".)
First bit of translation is the easy one! Namely, a set of letters that someone suggested, with a handy link. There's nothing particularly exciting going on here in the literary sense, but it's a nice bit of insight into the ancient lives of the, as best I can tell, quite wealthy. If you go to the website where I got the text, you can compare the translation on one of them with me. (I still don't know how they got 'cheese' from τύπους. I mean, they probably know better than I do, but it's not in any of my dictionary sources.) So, as follows:


1. p.yale.1.34

Greetings to Scythian Ptolemaios. Come to Talos now, bringing also the chosen shepherds you told me about. And if you come too slowly you will harm yourself, because I don't have the leisure to remain longer. Farewell. Thanks, Choiachos.


2. p.hib.1.54

Greetings from Demophon to Ptolemaios. By all means, send us the flute-player Petous with his Phrygian flutes and the rest, and if you need to spend something for it, you'll be repaid by me. And send us Zenobios with his dainty kettledrum and cymbals and clappers, because the women want him for the festival; and bring the prettiest clothes possible. Get the kid from Aristion and send it to us. And if you have captured the slave, hand him to Semphtheus so that he'll pass him over to us. And send us as many statues as you can, and a new jar [of wine], and all kinds of vegetables, and seasoning if you have it. Farewell. Put these things and the guards accompanying them on the boat.
So! It looks like Everyone Loves Ovid, which is not entirely surprising, so I'll be picking up with his Ars Amatoria pretty soon. (I have the first twenty lines or so translated already in a notebook somewhere, courtesy of some very long flights to and from Sweden, but I'll just restart from scratch to get into the swing of things.) Everyone also loves Pliny, so I'll be working out a book of his to poke at; that'll go slowly and awkwardly, given the lack of notes--unless I just try to do the start of the book on land animals, since I have notes for the first few sections of that--but it gives me one prose and one poetry source, which feels like a good balance to me.

There was a lot less enthusiasm for anything in Greek, so I'm going to start with a papyrus transcription someone sent me, and then re-evaluate after that. I desperately need the Greek practice, but I do at least get some (god damn Aristotle) in the philosophy reading group, so there's that.
fadeaccompli: (academia)
( Mar. 12th, 2016 12:06 pm)
"Gosh," I said to myself, looking at Perseus and its giant store of conveniently accessible Latin and Greek texts, "I really should practice more, but it's no fun to just translate random things on my own without any purpose in mind beyond the practice, and without anyone to talk to about it..."

Which is where you people come in. At least in theory.

I need some practice in my Greek and Latin; other people, in theory, might be interested in seeing the results. So I figure I can give a few options for things I might work on translating, see what people are most likely to care about reading the translated versions of (with my obligatory footnotes and commentary, because why not), and go from there. A few notes:

1) Lyric poetry (of the type I'm interested in) goes pretty fast, so you can get full (short) poems in updates. However, a lot of the humor in stuff like Martial is either incomprehensible without footnotes, or extremely risque--or just damn horrifying--by modern standards.

2) If I do a long work, like a play, I'm almost certainly not going to finish it. So you'd only be seeing the start of that.

3) Greek goes slower than Latin.

With that in mind, here are some things I might translate! Tell me what you want to see.


Latin:

* Poems of Martial. Short, funny, not stupidly difficult to manage. I'll try to avoid the really horrifying ones.
* Seneca's <em>Medea</em>, a tragedy. Melodramatic, fairly clear, lots of angry ranting. You know the story already.
* Ovid's <em>Ars Amatoria</em>, a long poem about sexy love. Sometimes funny, lots of mythology, bit tricky in places but not that hard. I have an annotated guide available.
* Caesar's Civil Wars. Military history! Lots of indirect speech! Cast of thousands, if one counts all the unnamed soldiers keeling over.
* Pliny the Elder's Natural History. Do you want me to translate lists of rocks, with occasional anecdotes about them? This may be for you. Damn hard, but rather to my taste.
* Other: tell me about a Latin text you've been dying for a translation of. Except for the Aeneid. I categorically refuse to translate that again unless it's for a grade.

Greek:

* Poems of Pindar. I have never translated any Pindar at all. "Complicated but fun," my friend says.
* Callimachus' poems. Ditto on never having tried any. God only knows what it's like! It'd be a mystery!
* A play by Euripides, probably Helen. Pro: weird and interesting story, great language. Con: difficult, will never get to finish it.
* "Frogs", a comedy by Aristophanes. I have an annotated student edition, but it's gonna have the same comedy issues Martial does.
* One of Plutarch's comparative lives. Great anecdotes about ancient Greeks and Romans, with bonus moralizing! Probably wouldn't finish, but I could go faster now that I used to. I'd probably try the Alexander again to get a running start, but I'm open for suggestions.
* Something from the New Testament. (Probably Mark, or Acts.) I've never done Koine before, but I'm told it's generally easier than Attic anyway.
* Other: tell me about a Latin text you've been dying for a translation of. Except for Thucydides. I categorically refuse to translate him again unless it's for a grade.
.