It's not often that Latin poetry makes headlines. But it was claimed this week that financier Mark Lowe quoted a "vile" and "humiliating" line of the Roman poet Catullus - irrumabo vos, et pedicabo vos - in an email to young female job-seeker Ariane Gordji.
In the course of a lengthy email exchange, Gordji had quoted some biblical Latin: diligite inamicos vestros, "love your enemies". Lowe's reply was less cutesy: "I shall face-f*** you and b****r you."
I hate to give such banter any encouragement but as a classicist I secretly find myself admiring Lowe's style.
In reply to a pious exhortation by St Paul to love thy neighbour, he cites a reaction far more typical of the ancient world: if someone hates you, hate them back.
In the poem which Lowe (slightly mis)quotes, Catullus is getting back at his critics - hence the plural, vos.
What is striking to modern eyes is the combination of poetry and obscenity: putting the two together seems as wrong as sitting your grandmother down with a drunk. But Latin poetry wasn't all myths and heroes.
Roman epic, saucy erotic poetry and the obscene poetry of insults all find their origins with the Ancient Greeks, whom the Romans copied and refashioned when it was their turn to be the great European power.
And it is the Greek poets of the sixth and fifth centuries BC who were the true masters of obscenity.
For the Greeks, obscenities were not "dirty", they were simply words you could use to cut to the chase. With them you describe what it was like sleeping with your rival's girlfriend ("I was f**king away pulling out the tip as if it was a sausage").
Or communicate the earthy beauty of sexual organs ("I've never seen a prettier c***"). Or cast aspersions on someone's sexual proclivities ("you tank-arsed b****r").
In Ancient Greece, obscene words weren't considered "rude" as such, just very blunt. Then again there was no Greek for "f*** off": the best they could manage was "Go to the crows!"
The essential quality of obscene words is that they refer to objects and acts which are private and do so in a direct way.
Sure, sex and defecation can be described in polite and contorted language but obscene words cut through the niceties; when we "make love" or have a "comfort break", our basic, natural urges are dressed up as something far more genteel.
It may seem odd that, in a society where both celebrities and members of the public reveal their innermost thoughts on a daily basis, words describing perfectly ordinary physical acts still have the power to offend. Haven't we got over that? Evidently not.
And perhaps that's no bad thing. Being offended or shocked by obscene words is not just a sign of prudishness: it is also the mark of someone who understands the difference between private and public, between appropriate discretion and absolute transparency.
Personally, I'd be prepared to take to the streets and campaign for obscene words to remain offensive - they are an important part of our language which I'd hate to see lose their transgressive edge. And if you disagree, I might just irrumabo vos.
James Robson's new book on Greek comedy, Aristophanes: An Introduction is published this month by Duckworth.
Reader views (3)
I've seldom been more entertained than by this "scandal". Having discovered (years ago, directly from C.A. Tripp of the Kinsey Institute) that Jowett had bowdlerized Plato's Symposium, I've learned to question every translation, and every "scholar". And now I've learned that it was done to Shakespeare's work, too! Have they no decency?
- Rood Andersson, Goodyear, AZ USA
Brilliant
We really should hear more from James
- Bob Burns, Alicante Spain
Surely you are missing the point? The fact that he miquoted the line shows him for what he is, a snivelling, snobby little creep, who, in any decent society, would be whipped out of town.
- Kerry, Purley
Morning:
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