Margherita Bassi reports for Smithsonian magazine on another remarkable development in decipherment:
A little more than a thousand years ago, monks at Saint Catherine’s Monastery in Egypt’s Sinai desert removed Western Palestinian Aramaic and Greek writing from animal-skin parchments. They replaced the words with a Syriac translation of writings by John Climacus, also known as Saint John of the Ladder. […]
The original text, however, might not be completely lost. That’s good news, because it seems to contain copied portions of a second-century B.C.E. star catalog with maps originally created by the Greek astronomer Hipparchus, known as the “father of scientific astronomy.” Researchers are now using a type of particle accelerator at the SLAC National Accelerator Laboratory to uncover the hidden words.
“X-ray beams from our synchrotron at SLAC are helping uncover the long-erased and overwritten star map by scanning for trace metals left behind by the original inks,” reads a social media post from SLAC.
Previous work has revealed that many pages of the Codex Climaci Rescriptus come from a fifth- or sixth-century C.E. book, which included a copy of an astronomical poem titled Phaenomena. It was originally written by the Greek poet Aratus in the third century B.C.E. Alongside the poem appear to be transcriptions from Hipparchus’ star catalog, which was completed around 129 B.C.E. The work represents the “earliest known attempt to record accurate coordinates of many celestial objects observable with the naked eye,” researchers wrote in a 2022 study investigating the Codex Climaci Rescriptus’ original writings. […]
Last month, researchers at SLAC began scanning 11 pages of the codex, which were sent to the laboratory in Menlo Park, California, by the Museum of the Bible in Washington, D.C., reports KQED’s Ayah Ali-Ahmad. The facility’s synchrotron lightsource instrument produces intense X-ray beams that can unveil the document’s hidden text based on the ink composition, which differs from that used by the monks. The work has already revealed the ancient Greek word for “Aquarius” and details about stars within the constellation, Victor Gysembergh, a historian of science at the French National Center for Scientific Research who is leading the project, tells the outlet.
More info, and images, at the link. Today Hipparchus, tomorrow the world Archilochus!
According to this, there are a bunch of different texts in the codex, with (it is at least implied) a bunch of different prior texts that got overwritten, but I guess this particular one is of particular interest to the particular researchers. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Codex_Climaci_Rescriptus
Now I’m idly curious about how S. John Climacus/Klimakos/etc. was/is standardly referred to in Syriac. (Лествичник seems to be his usual Slavic cognomen, although in Latin-scripted FYLOSC he’s either Jovan Lestvičnik or Jovan Klimak, as you may prefer.)
The work itself, which I guess gives his name, seems to have ended up ܟܬܒܐ ܕܡܣ̈ܟܬܒܐ ‘Book of Steps’ or ܟܬܒܐ ܕܡܣ̈ܟܬܒܐ ܕܣܒܠܬܐ ܪܘܚܢܝܬܐ ‘Book of Steps of the Spiritual Ladder’, if that helps.
Лествица is Slavic for ladder and κλῖμαξ is the same in Greek.
In addition to ܣܒܠܬܐ, which is evidently taken from music, there is ܣܩܠܐ, Latin scala.
What’s the ancient Greek for Aquarius?
Does reveal refer to new vocabulary or just the scanning process? That is, did they find the already known Ὑδροχόος?
I wondered about that too.
el-wikip says that the ancient term for “Υδροχόος” was the similar-looking “Υδροχοεύς”
Does anyone know the connection between the Greek poet and hummingbirds (genus Archilocus)?
A good question; Wikipedia, frustratingly, just says “The name Archilochus is that of a Greek lyric poet from the island of Paros who lived around 650 BC.” Perhaps David Marjanović will know.
There are lots of critters named after Greek and Latin historical or mythological figures. A search of The Helm Dictionary of Scientific Bird Names under “bc” yields also the genera Amytis, Arses, Corinna, Damophila, Doricha, Lais, Milo, Pholoe, Praxilla, Rhodopis, along with modified ones like Ciceronia, and various species names. Most of these were women, whose names, I presume, are attached to colorful birds.
Sure, but why this particular name? For what it’s worth, World of Hummingbirds (page 103) says:
On the other hand, Birds of New York (page 175) says “perhaps named from the Greek poet,” so maybe nobody knows for sure.
Maybe vocal birds get named after poets?
But Archilochos was notorious for his aggressive invectives; not as a lyrical poet.
Hummingbird dudes can be pretty aggressive and territorial.
The Wikipedia article on Archilochus links to the actual page of the actual paper from 1854 on archive.org, and there it says… nothing. The genus was established in a one-liner. Back then that was unfortunately normal.
However, the only included species was not the ruby-throated hummingbird (today A. colubris), but the black-chinned one (A. alexandri), so that’s what should be compared to the mythological figure.
I see that A. colubris was named Trochilus colubris by Linnaeus, and was later moved to the later-recognized genus.
Although in his 1854 publication, Heinrich Gottlieb Ludwig Reichenbach does not give his reasons for naming the genus Archilochus, perhaps the stage was set by the species name Ornismya sapho (now Sappho sparganura) defined by René Lesson in 1828 here, and the genus Lesbia later defined by Lesson here.
Reichenbach was the son of a classical philologist, and I expect he had read a good deal of Greek literature. In naming Archilochus, I suspect Reichenbach was making reference to the well-known fragment of Archilochus preserved by Athenaeus, Deipnosophistae 1.56 (context here):
(Translation of the verses by Martin West, if I recall them correctly.) Perhaps it was the hummingbird’s long, sharp beak, through which it drinks nectar and sustains its life, that reminded Reichenbach of Archilochus’ spear.
I wonder if this idea has been published anywhere. It seems like it would be worth a squib somewhere if it hasn’t.
Addendum on the epithet of A. alexandri, the type species of Archilochus : This species was first defined by Jules Bourcier and Étienne Mulsant here in 1846, as Trochilus alexandri. On page 332, they add the following note: ‘Nous avons dédié cette espèce au naturaliste qui l’a découverte, M. le docteur Alexandre, de Mexico’. (Trochilus Linn., from Greek τροχίλος, a kind of small bird.)
Perhaps it was the hummingbird’s long, sharp beak, through which it drinks nectar and sustains its life, that reminded Reichenbach of Archilochus’ spear.
Brilliant! And I, at least, am convinced.
Douglas E. Gerber in his Loeb edition of Greek Iambic Poetry gives a different translation:
with the following note:
Fragment 4 shows the poet drinking wine on a ship; it’s a papyrus fragment from Oxyrynchus; both fragments are perhaps from the same poem.
Phrasing!
(Is it seriously impossible that a dick joke was not intended, at least as a secondary meaning?)
(I’m wondering if the omicron of δορὶ was a mistranscription of an omega, and the original sense was that he relies on “my gift” [of poetry/language] for his food, wine, and lodging)
Has to be short because of the meter.
That’s what she said. . .
(I’m sorry)
(Not sorry enough . . . )
A metre? Wow!
It would be δώρῳ anyway, second declension.
Seconded.
Is it seriously impossible that a dick joke was not intended
On a related point (hah!), see most recently Thomas J. Nelson (2021) “Archilochus’ Cologne Epode and Homer’s Quivering Spear (fr. 196a.52 IEG²)” Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik, Bd. 219, pages 4–6, especially p. 5, available in open access here.
Just for Carol Huettner’s purpose and any birders that might happen upon this thread, wondering ‘Why Archilochus?‘…
The connection that I made between the image of the soldier leaning on the spear that won him his wine, on the one hand, and the hummingbird suspended in mid-air, drinking nectar from a flower through its beak (leaning on its spear, so to speak), on the other, does not depend so much on the disputed original interpretation of Greek ἐν δορί en dori that Archilochus intended (‘in the spear’, ‘on my spear’, ‘thanks to my spear’, ‘in my ship’, ‘on the ship’s deck’, ‘on active service’, ‘under arms’?), or on the meaning that his ancient audience would naturally understand. Rather, for our purpose here, we ought to consider the modern reception of the lines, and ask how Reichenbach interpreted them in his time, or how Reichenbach expected his colleagues to interpret them.
Carlo Santaniello (2014) ‘A Soldier’s Destiny: Archilochus Fr. 2 W.’ Chaos e Kosmos 15 (in English, available here) offers a handy recent survey and re-evaluation of the various interpretations of these lines. (Santaniello has his own proposals too, of course.) In addition to the older translations that Santaniello cites, we might also add this English translation of the passage in the Deipnosophistae (‘The Dinner Sophists’, ‘The Banqueting Philosophers’) from around Reichenbach’s time, 1854:
Continuing the previous comment, the German translations for the general readership of Reichenbach’s time are similar, and offer translations of ἐν δορί like in der Lanze,
in dem Speer, and am Spieße, all very literal with German words for ‘in the spear’, ‘on the pike,’ etc. These are just the first three translations of that era that came up in quick Google Books searches, selected indiscriminately.
All this is extra, of course. The well-known passage from the Athenaeus’ text saying that Archilochus compares wine to νέκταρ nektar (originally, the drink enjoyed by the gods in Greek myth) and preserving the lines of Archilochus may have been reason enough for Reichenbach to name the genus of hummingbirds after the poet.
Jobling (1991 ed.) gives no specific connection but says,
In a quick look I haven’t figured out what the other seven genera were, but I notice he did name an ovenbird genus Automolus, meaning “deserter”—another Archilochus reference?
The earliest cite for αὐτόμολος in LSJ is from Herodotus.
Sorry, just a facetious reference to Archilochus’ poem about being a deserter. You can see the original and three English translations by searching for “shield” here.
Oh, of course — that’s one of my favorite poems (I quoted it here).
Automolus, meaning “deserter”
Very curious! Reichenbach’s comment on Automolus here, top of page 174, is quite odd:
Malacocercus ‘soft-tail’ was another genus of birds, but the name (a *μαλακόκερκος : μαλακός ‘soft, effeminate, cowardly’ + κέρκος ‘tail, penis’) could also be interpreted as ‘cowardly tail’ or even ‘limp dick’—and from there, ‘deserter’?
The type species Automolus leucophthalmus has a lovely soft tawny tail, and the ‘tail’ is the most noted part of a deserter…
Hmmm.
Überläufer doesn’t mean “deserter”, but “defector” – one who “runs over” to the other side.
Pape’s Wörterbuch translates αὐτόμολος as Überläufer.
FWIW, du är väl inte en mes is what we said when a colleague didn’t want to test in production. (= ‘tit,’ the bird, but here more like ‘don’t be a coward’).