The "God" in the Iliad

Richmond Lattimore '26 is widely regarded as one of the best modern translators of ancient Greek texts. For example, his 1952 translation of the Iliad is excellent and praised by his fellow classicists. Rauner Special Collections Library possesses a large amount of material relevant to Lattimore, ranging from poems he wrote as an undergraduate about sunny Hanover afternoons to his personal correspondence with friends.

Among these materials is a notebook he kept while translating the Iliad, conveying something of the method of his translational process. The notebook, covering Books 15 to 22 of the Iliad, contains little in the way of editing marks and closely resembles the finished, published translation, which is itself quirky. One example of this quirkiness is that it capitalizes "God," doing so ten times. Out of five other famous Iliad translations (Fagles, Lombardo, Fitzgerald, Merrill, Mitchell) there is no precedent for this decision. Interestingly, the notebook at Rauner indicates Lattimore’s initial uncertainty regarding the capitalized "God" in two different places, 15.403 and 17.101, images of which are shown here.


For those unfamiliar with or rusty on the Iliad, the speakers of these two passages are, respectively, Patrokolos and Menelaos. Patrokolos (a Greek) speaks of his desire to bring Achilleus back into the fighting, and Menelaos (also a Greek) contemplates the consequences of yielding before Hektor, the mightiest Trojan warrior. Plot details aside, the strikethrough as seen in the first notebook image (Lattimore's own) conveys his somewhat intensive deliberation regarding phrasing, the subject of the sentence, and the capitalization of "God." As is evident, he does not capitalize the first instance of the word in his notebook, yet does so with the later Menelaos passage, shown here in the next image. In the published version of his translation, both instances are capitalized. So, the issue of capitalization in the notebooks, later resolved in published format, reveals Lattimore’s initial trepidation regarding whether to capitalize "God."

A letter addressed to Lattimore and archived in Rauner provides some valuable context for his deliberation over the unique capitalization of the word "God." Dated June 27, 1933, the letter’s author was Richard Jackson, a friend of Lattimore's from Dartmouth who graduated Phi Beta Kappa with a degree in Classics. The body of the letter is a speech that Jackson produced at Lattimore's request. The speech is somewhat discursive but discusses the importance of poetry and religion:
"Everywhere in epics and lyrics... is the poetry of religion. Religion, I realize, is a hazardous subject to discuss these days.... We should not lose sight of the immaterial idea.... Nay, we must believe in that idea, not through logic, but through poetry...."

The comment about religion being "hazardous" might explain Lattimore’s timidity. More importantly, the letter enshrines a moment when Lattimore apparently sympathized (by requesting the speech from Jackson) with the desire to believe in that "immaterial idea… through poetry." Moreover, the mention of "epics and lyrics" in the letter brings to mind the Iliad. This letter potentiates a Christian subtext to the capitalized "God" of Lattimore's translation, a potentially dangerous move for one who wished to have a reputation as a serious scholar of Greek literature.

To examine Richmond Lattimore's notebooks and correspondence in greater detail, ask for MS-503 at Rauner Library.

Posted for Henry Woram '17, CLST 4 class

Welcome Home

We know you are going to have a better Homecoming than poor Odysseus. What a nightmare--coming home to find his house infested with suitors and his kingdom in disarray. This image is one of the tamer ones in John Flaxman's suite of images for the Odyssey.

Dartmouth Night is upon us, the bonfire is built and ready to blaze despite the rain. It is about welcoming back the alumni while welcoming in the new class. It is always a festive weekend and the fall colors make campus seem like paradise. We hope your homecoming is bucolic and filled with fun--and everything Odysseus's was not.

To see more of Flaxman's images, ask for Illus F619h copy 3.

Of Blue Points and Cigars

Roast mallard duck, celery, queen olives, lobster croquettes, and blue point oysters. This sumptuous meal comes to us through the archives of Kappa Kappa Kappa, one of the oldest fraternities at Dartmouth. The occasion? The Initiation Banquet of 1890 (program at right).

In a bygone era, new fraternity members were welcomed into their houses at an Initiation Banquet, featuring multiple courses, speeches, and songs. For each Initiation Banquet, the fraternity produced a commemorative booklet. These small pamphlets are scattered throughout the collection in membooks and fraternity files, just like the dance cards we've previously blogged.

Most banquet booklets follow a basic format: the fraternity name, date, location, a list of new members, a list of toasts, song lyrics, and, most importantly, the menu. But unlike dance cards, there's no set name for these items: Are they pamphlets? Programs? Menus?

They give us a glimpse into what students considered fancy and sumptuous in the late nineteenth century. One thing is certain -- they thought blue point oysters were awesome. They're the first item on almost every banquet menu. Oysters required ice and rapid transportation from the sea coast, indicating that they would be expensive, and therefore, a status symbol. They probably tasted pretty good too!

Other popular menu items include crackers, sherbet, and jellies. The evenings concluded with cigars and cigarettes, listed on the menu as though they were just another food group.

To see some examples, come into Rauner and ask for the Vertical File of almost any fraternity that existed before 1950. The menus in this post are from Kappa Kappa Kappa (Initiation Banquet, 1890), and Psi Upsilon (Initiation Banquet 1885 on the left and Initation Banquet 1884 on the right).

Instagram Then and Now

After feeling pretty hep for blogging, we are finally moving into the current decade with an Instagram account. Instagram was going to be an easy way to share vacation photos while on the go, but, like most social media, it transformed into a venue for self expression. We have a lot to express, so it should be fun.

Being of the archival mindset, always looking to the past for an new, more powerful sense of the present, we couldn't stay away from an example of an ur-Instagram: Dartmouth Membooks. This one is particularly fitting. A hundred years ago Conrad Snow '12 visited Europe while a student at Dartmouth. He documented his travels with dozens of postcards and other images (Instagram's original intent), then assembled them in his Membook as an act of self creation (Instagram's more typical use!). His travels became him, his pages of images transformed over time into the self we can still visit.

Conrad Snow was pretty amazing. Later in life he was chief of the State Department's Loyalty Security Board during the McCarthy Era and was instrumental in McCarthy's eventual downfall.

You can expect a Membook image every other Monday on Instagram ("Membook Monday") and you can see Conrad Snow's Membook by asking for it at the desk.

Mountain Sticky Stew

Recently, we promised you an entry on one of the strangest foods at Dartmouth -- Mountain Sticky Stew. Trips began in the 1930s, and have continued as a cherished Dartmouth tradition, involving first years hiking, paddling and eating their way through the mountains surrounding the College. Trips also spawned a lot of wild traditions, including colorful hair, flair (outrageous costumes), and MOUNTAIN STICKY STEW! (as it is titled in the 1977 recipe).

This mixture of melted cheese, meat, cake and vegetables was featured on first-year trips in the 1970s and 1980s. The 1977 version consists of Minute Rice, dried beef, cheese, peas, bread, a can of fruit cocktail, a Sarah Lee cake, 4 packages of iced tea, and onions -- with the instructions to cook the rice, melt the cheese, add the other ingredients, and then "gorge silly."

The 1984 recipe includes cheese, Koolaid and cheese cake mix. It seems like a great way to consume lots of calories in a easy-to-prepare form. But by the 1990s, "Mountain Sticky Stew" no longer appears on the menus.

Did the Stew disappear because tastes changed? Or was Mountain Sticky Stew considered a form of hazing? The archives are curiously silent. If you know anything about the Stew, please let us know!

No one in the library has volunteered to make us a sample batch.

For the Mountain Sticky Stew recipes, ask for Box 79, Folder 86 of the files of the Dartmouth Outing Club (DO-1).

Separated at Birth?

"On Friday, June 24, Mr. Dickey started his fishing trip. Others, not part of the fishing party, were on hand with missions to accomplish prior to the 'informal lunch.' And then the guest arrived..."

This is the folksy start to a photo album titled "A Friend Came to Lunch." Assembled by Edward C. Lathem and the Stinehour Press, it commemorates Dwight D. Eisenhower's visit to John Sloan Dickey's annual fishing party at the Second College Grant in 1954.

The pictures are priceless. Ike donned a DOC jacket, while various Dartmouth administrators decked themselves out for a weekend of fishing. In some pictures it is hard to distinguish Dickey from Eisenhower. After all the hoopla--understated as it was--"Quiet returns to the Dartmouth College Grant."

To see it ask for D.C. History LD1446 1955 .D378.

A Woman's Voyage Round the World

In 1766, Jeanne Bare disguised herself as a man and joined the the crew of Louis Antoine de Bougainville. Two years later she became the first woman to circumnavigate the globe. She left no published account of her voyage, but in 1791, another woman, Mary Ann Parker, joined her husband John Parker, Captain of the Gorgon Man of War, and sailed around the world. After her return, she wrote and published her experiences in A Voyage Round the World (London: John Nichols, 1795) written "for the advantage of a numerous family."

Someday we need to do an exhibit of 18th and 19th century women's travel narratives. They are often so different from their male counterparts. Parker's narrative is full of local color and commentary on the peoples she met with detailed accounts of homes and meals. She gives special attention to the slaves of Cape Town, commenting on their beauty and habits of dress.

Interestingly, this is the only published account of the voyage, and it adds a small fragment to the history of famed mutiny on the Bounty.  The Gorgon carried eleven of the Bounty mutineers from Cape Town back to Portsmouth where they faced trial.

To see it, ask for Rare G440.P12 1795.