Collection of Ghost Stories

I've been really busy (read: distracted) this past week, but have managed to find a nice page on ghost stories in Rome and Greece. Check it out.

Eyewitness Account: Eruption at Pompeii

In “Latin Letters” by Cecilia A E Luschnig which I have been dabbling in throughout all of summer, I stumbled across a very, very interesting letter written by Pliny (the younger one, not his uncle, Pliny the Elder, whom he writes about) to the well-known historian Cornelius Tacitus following up on one of his early letters concerning the death of his uncle at the eruption of Vesuvius near Pompei. For the curious, the letter is Epistulae VI.20.

Pliny begins the letter, fittingly where he left off his previous one:

“Ais te adductum litteris quas exigenti tibi de morte avunculi mei scripsi cupere cognoscere quos ego Miseni relictus (id enim ingressus abruperam) non solum metus verum etiam casus pertulerim. 'Quamquam animus meminisse horret, incipiam.'

You say that you have been compelled by the letters which I wrote at your bidding having left Misenum (for it was there that my letters broke off) about the death of my uncle, to desire to learn not only the terrors but also the misfortunes I endured. 'Although my mind is won't to remember, I will begin.' ”

The end quote Pliny includes is from Virgil's Aeneid II.12. This passage is a telling sign of the friendship of Tacitus and Pliny. Having previously requested only the account of Pliny's uncle's death, Tacitus again writes Pliny seeking to know what he had to endure during the chaos surrounding the eruption of Vesuvius. The historian side of Tacitus may also be showing through, as he may want doubly to know of Pliny's experience for personal as well as professional interest. What better thing to include in a history (the text of which I would so lovingly wish to consult right now!) than an eyewitness account of one of the most important natural disasters in history.

Pliny begins his story with how he survived this eruption, by choosing to spend what time he had (relinquum tempus) engaged in his studies, instead of joining his uncle (who had invited him to come along) to investigate the clouds of smoke pouring from the volcano. The time passed quickly for him and soon he was off to a short and unpleasant sleep. The reason for this, was the strong earthquake that shook the town. Pliny notes that:

“tremor terrae minus formidulosus quia Campania solitus. Illa vero invaluit ut non moveri omnia sed verti crederentur.

An earthquake was not a cause for fear in Campania, as it was a common occurrence. That earthquake though grew strong that everything was not only moved but overturned.”

His mother bursts in at this point, whereupon they move into an open area of the house away from falling objects and are frightened and unsure of what to do. Being only eighteen he is unsure of how to look back at his behavior. He says that in his frightened state he took up a book of Livy and read from it as he did in his leisure time, and even jotted notes from it. A friend of his uncle appears and they decide to leave the town for fear of being crushed by the tottering buildings (quassatis circumiacentibus tectis) surrounding them.

They arrive to the chariots they had ordered to be drawn up for them, but are amazed to see them rocking back and forth violently even though they are on level ground. Then the group catches sight of something even more ominous:

“Praeterea mare in se resorberi et tremore terrae quasi repelli videbamus. Certe processerat litus multaque animalia maris siccis harenis detinebat. Ab altero latere nubes atra et horrenda ignei spiritus tortis vibratisque discursibus rupta in longas flammarum figuras dehiscebat: fulguribus illae et similes et maiores erant.

Meanwhile we saw the sea seem to swallow itself, as if were being moved by the earthquake. Certainly the shore had advanced and held many sea-animals on its dry sands. On the other side, a black cloud bristling with twisted suffocating flame and broken by agitated lightning was gaping among the many figures of flames: these were similar to sheet lightning but greater.”

They debate about whether to leave with the safety of Pliny's uncle being uncertain, but are eventually urge on to go as they flee the rushing black cloud of ash behind them. They make it off the main road to avoid being crushed by the mob as the cloud overtakes them in darkness. Pliny's description of this is stunning:

“Vix consideramus, et nox, non qualis inlunis aut nubila, sed qualis in locis clausis lumine extincto.

We had hardly decided this when night appeared, not the moonless and cloudly kind, but the kind like being in an enclosed space with the lights cut off.”

In this blanket of darkness they hear the screams of women and children, the shouting of men, the voices of families calling to one another and searching for their children. The sound of people praying for death can also be heard in the darkness. Panic quickly spreads with false tales springing up and portents of the end of the world seemingly being fulfilled. Pliny (in a fit of ego-grooming) says his only solace was that he never called out in fear since he felt he was perishing with all the world. The smoke lightens up and all fear that fire is approaching, which is what was happening in truth, but the fire lands far off in the distance. At last the sun begins to shine through as Pliny says:

“sol etiam effulsit, luridus tamen, qualis esse, cum deficit, solet.

the Sun also shined through, although murkily, as it is accustomed to do during an eclipse.”

He and his mother return to Misenum and weather out the remaining earthquakes to await news of his uncle. He ends the letter telling Tacitus that the account is unfit for something as glorious as his histories and that he will understand if Tacitus deems the letter unfit to respond to.

A strangely humble ending to such a landmark letter, and it is unclear if Tacitus did respond to the letter. The true moving experience of this letter though is not valuing in literary worth, but understanding the emotions and experiences of a man who survived the eruption of Vesuvius. It is simply awe-inspiring that any such account exists.

phantasma temporis acti

Ghost stories have always had a certain charm for me. I have long been engaged by the simplicity of the paranormal anecdotes of Pu Songling's Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, as well as the cheesiness of Scifi Original's horror films.

The broad stretch of time which my interests cover, provides an interesting parallel that shows how little the structure and stock characteristics of the traditional ghost story vary over time. Recently, my interests have begun to wander over to whether or not ghosts or other paranormal beings existed in Roman and Greek society. Yes, there is the story in the Iliad of Achilles' ghost, as well as countless others. And in Virgil's Aeneid we have ghosts too, however I have seen little mention of everyday encounters with the paranormal. It's one thing for the ghosts to exist in the realm of epic, but quite another to be talked about by the people.

So far I have come across only one mention (only having done a little research) of a traditional haunted house story by Pliny the Younger in one of his letters. Pliny is writing to L. Licinius Sura, a famous orator and ex-consul. His letter opens up with a short discourse on the paranormal:

"Et mihi discendi et tibi docendi facultatem otium praebet. Igitur perquam velim scire, esse phantasma et habere propriam figuram numenque aliquod putes an inania et vana ex metu nostro imaginem accipere.

Since leisure provides a means for me to learn and you to teach I would very much like to know therefore, if you think that there are ghosts and that they have a proper figure and any divine power, or that they are some unsubstantial and hollow thing that receive form out of our fear."

It is interesting here to note the words that represent what ghosts are in Roman society. Phantasma comes from the Greek φάντασμα which literally means an image or appearance. This same concept is reflected in other words used for ghosts in Latin: imago, idolon, and simulacrum. All these concepts have a base meaning somewhere along the lines of "likeness, copy, image". This shows that the Romans clearly related ghosts to reflections of human beings. They saw these figures as copies of the real thing, also implying that perhaps they were imitators of dead friends, whom would be recognized.

His first account of a ghost is one which appears to Curtius Rufius, foretelling events in hid life which end up coming true. Further on in Pliny's letter a very traditional ghost story is set up:

"Erat Athenis spatiosa et capax domus, sed infamis et pestilens. Per silentium noctis sonus ferri et, si attenderes acrius, strepitus vinculorum longius primo, deinde e proximo reddebatur. Mox apparebat idolon, senex macie et squalore confectus, promissa barba, horrenti capillo; cruribus compedes, manibus catenas gerebat quatiebatque.

There was in Athens a large and spacious house, but is was ill-reputed and unwholesome. Through the silence of night the sound of iron, and if you paid close attention, the rattling of chains was heard at first from far off, then from nearby. Soon a ghost appeared, an emaciated old man weakened by squalor, with a long beard and dishevelled hair; he was holding and shaking chains with hands and shackles with his legs."

This is a very traditional depiction of the popular ghost. You have the mysterious rattling of chains in a run-down house with a dirty looking ghoul as the culprit. This depiction is still popular today, with almost every ghost-based horror movie having mysterious sounds that approach, and the ghoul in the attic of the Weasley's house in Harry Potter is known to have a chain shaking fetish.

However, a ghost story would not be complete without some seemingly hapless victim coming along, who manages to turn the tables and solve the ghost problem. Many stories by Pu Songling have a Taoist priest coming by to trick the ghost or fox spirit into going away. Even the setup is very similar as well as the scenes. I highly recommend to get a translated copy if you can.

Our hapless man happens to be the philosopher Athenodorus. He has recently arrived in Athens and is looking for a place to live. The locals have been bothered by the ghost long enough that they are even frightened in the day time, though the ghost is not out. The house he haunts has been put up for sale at a cheap price to lure the unsuspecting buyer in. Athenodorus purchases the house and is not bothered by the warning of his neighbors. At first all is quiet and Athenodorus is writing peacefully, but it is not long before he hears the sounds of the ghost:

"Initio, quale ubique, silentium noctis; deinde concuti ferrum, vincula moveri; ille non tollere oculos, non remittere stilum, sed obfirmare animum auribusque praetendere. Tum crebrescere fragor, adventare et iam ut in limine, iam ut intra limine audiri; respicit, videt agnoscitque narratam sibi effigiem.

The beginning of the night was the usual sort of silence; then the sound of iron being struck together and of chains moving was heard; Athenodorus did not raise his eyes, did not lay down his pen, but strengthened his mind and shut his ears. Then the din grew louder, and now approached the door, now was heard within the room; he looked up, and saw and recognized the image that had been described to him."

The ghost then beckons to him with a finger and at first he tells it to hold on and continues writing, but the ghost grows impatient and rattles its chains above his head until he gets up and follows it. This is a pretty humorous scene. Athenodorus follows the ghost into the courtyard of the house whereupon it disappears, however being a wise philosopher he marks the spot with some grass and orders the magistrate to dig up the spot the next day. Under the spot they find the remains of a man shackled in chains. They collect the bones and bury him at public expense (a willing compromise I am sure), and afterwards the haunting ceases.

One more ghost story is included in the letter and is a bit more personal. Apparently one of Pliny's slave boys was visited by a ghost which cut off his hair and scattered it about the room.

A bit of an odd thing to do as a ghost in my opinion.

At first the household is suspicious and thinks perhaps the slave boy did it himself. A few days later, however, another slave boy is woken in the middle of the night by two people garbed in white who climb in through his window and cut off his hair too and spread it around the room. So either there is some weird hair fetish cult in ancient Rome or the ghosts were real. Pliny takes it as a sign that he would escape persecution under Domitian's reign, since it was common for the accused to grow out their hair.

I hope to find some more interesting ghost stories to share, and perhaps I can follow this line of study at school. Stay tuned for further episodes of A Haunting: Ancient Rome.

Links:

By the way, here are the English and Latin copies of Pliny's letter which I discussed and used for reference. All translations here were mine, but credit for the Latin belongs to the author of the website.

Language Spotlight: lingua latina, pars secunda

After a summer spent leisurely working my way through Wheelock's Latin in order to give myself a first official introduction to Latin grammar, I still felt lacking. I didn't feel like my Latin was any better or worse, and of course it didn't help that my previous education with the language was so fragmentary. When school started again, I half thought of auditing elementary Latin while taking advanced Latin to get a real refresher, but ended up just enrolling in advanced.

When I had previously dealt with Ovid in AP Latin, I much preferred the shorter, more humorous poems of Catullus, but when I started reading Ovid's Metamorphoses I fell in love. I began to get a deeper appreciation for the language Ovid employed and the techniques he used to create the best poetry I have ever read. I quickly branched out and started reading his other works (mostly in English translation) and have now decided that I want to focus on him for my thesis. I breezed through Ovid and then focused on Horace for my ISP by translating book one of his Odes and compiling an annotated bibliography of some scholarly work pertaining to them. I was surprised to see the end product weighing in at over 50 pages!

After ISP came my first introduction to Latin prose by the duet of Suetonius and Seneca the Younger with their works about the emperor Claudius. Prose marked a fairly easy transition and the Apocolocyntosis of Seneca was so easy that I sight-read most of it. Concurrent with this endeavor was my self-started IRP (individual research project) on Latin composition. Writing a little bit in Latin everyday really helped give me a strong hold on grammar and aided in some vocabulary. My only qualm with the textbooks made for Latin composition are the strong focus on military vocabulary and the lack of modern vocabulary used to allow for practical application of the composition skills. It was only recently that I have found books for such things, which I plan to use this year in conjunction with that Latin club at school I run.

My Latin learning will be a continuous adventure that I don't see ending soon, though that may change when I go overseas to teach English. It remains to be seen what will happen, but I will enjoy whatever time I continue to pursue the language.

Language Spotlight: lingua latina, pars prima

The most esteemed and beautiful Latin language has long bewitched the mind of your humble blogmaster. I first came across the language after changing high schools in my junior year. I had previously (read: lackadaisically) attempted to fulfill my language requirement for graduation by means of Spanish, yet, due to a lack of desire to learn the language and a general lack of desire to apply myself, this never quite worked out. Upon changing high schools however, I was presented with a larger option of languages (my previous high school only offered--you guessed it--Spanish). French, Italian, Mandarin Chinese, Hebrew, Latin, all these languages swirled in my head each calling out to me to try to surmount their individual difficulties.

The choice was a hard one.

My mother though, had taken both French and Latin when she was in high school and thus could give me recommendations with those languages. After slogging through a semester of Spanish, I wanted something different. Different yet familiar. Being the eccentric person I am, I had no choice but to go for the geekier lingua latina. This was my first real attempt at a language, and soon I fell in love. I was charmed for the first time by the old Roman myths I had held such distaste for previously. The language itself seemed to make so much more sense than my native English, and was taught by a hilarious, flamboyant Irish man who spoke more languages than I had fingers to count! Combine my interest with the language and a very engaging teacher, and I was sold.

My Latin learning, however, was very fragmentary in nature. Seeing how I was a second semester junior heading into my senior year, I didn't exactly have much time to cram my head with this language. So I finished up Latin I with little difficulty and had to make the decision to teach myself Latin II or summer so I could come into the AP Latin class in the fall, or to wait for fall to come around and enter into Latin II. Out of my class of 20 or so students, I was the only one to make the jump to AP. A new year and a new class. The kids in AP Latin were some of the best I ever had the pleasure to meet in high school. We struggled with the new syntax brought about by Latin poetry and pulled our hair out at finally being confronted by 'real' Latin (a problem I have with the way Latin is taught in most American schools). We somehow managed to pull through for the whole year and sit the AP exam with great confidence. Somehow I managed to pull a 5 on the exam although having little Latin experience in comparison my classmates.

In my excitement for applying and getting into college, I left Latin by the wayside. I had spent countless hours struggling with it for almost two years, and wanted nothing more than a break. So it was no surprise that in my first semester at college, I opted to try something new and try my hand at Mandarin (to be discussed at a later date). However, come spring semester I could no longer resist the temptation that Latin hung in front of me. So for my ISP (independent study project) I chose to go back to my lingua patria and translate a never-before-translated Medieval Latin epic poem. Now there were a couple of things that hindered my ability: 1) I hadn't worked on Latin for almost a year, 2) it was a much later form of Latin than I was used to, and 3) I was a lazy first-year college kid. I plan on going back and revising my work and will probably post it on here when I get around to it. After struggling with my half-forgotten Latin for a month straight I was thrown into the metaphorical pot of boiling water: Juvenal.

Now for the unknowing, Juvenal was a Roman satirist who has the horrid reputation of being basically the hardest Latin writer to read in the history of everything.

And I am tempted to agree.

We read all sixteen of his satires in one semester, but only translated/read in the original Latin, the first six of them. These six satires are still probably the most awful Latin writings I have ever had to struggle through. I don't know how I managed to pull through and pass the class, but I sure did better my Latin skills. With that under my belt, I moved on to summer, and my second year of college.

(continued in lingua latina pars secunda)

Update/Upcoming

I've been busy learning my ass off the past week and celebrating my big two-oh on the fourth. However I have made quite a lot of progress language-wise though no logs to post here for it (they're in my journal). I have had a new idea for language posts, which is to post a "language spotlight" once a week or so on a different language that I want to learn (roughly 17) by writing up a short survey outlining the general characteristics of whatever language I am learning about.

Look forward to the spotlight on Latin later today or tomorrow. Seeing how it was the first language I learned to any advanced level, I feel it fitting to honor it with the first post.

Progress in Summer

Today I have been working on composition (in Latin of course) to better my skills. I am hoping to start posting bilingual posts in conjunction with this endeavor and welcome any and all corrections. The Wikilang for Latin is coming along nice and soon I will work on finishing the verb page. It's hard to find time between learning Greek and Latin and working on active use. I have also found myself enraptured with a number of other languages which I hope to learn in the future.

Hodie compositionem Latinam scribebam ut peritus fierem. Spero nuntia in linguis duobus scribere cum hoc commisso ac correctiones de compositionibus meis sunt boni. "Wikilang" Latina est bona moxque paginam verborum finire temptabo. Difficile est finire cum Graecum et Latinum discam usumque activum laborem. Inveni multas linguas alias, quas spero discere quoque.