"Dripping Wet (and Still Clueless): Hitting the High Seas...

...with Quintus Horatius Flaccus"

An Ex Libris Talk for Sigma Tau Delta

Central Connecticut State University

Gil Gigliotti

3 April 2014

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

In honor of Quintus Horatius Flaccus' birthday...

I suggest at some point today you:

a) break out some good Falernian wine (Odes I.27, II.3, II.11; Satires II.4;  Epistles I.18),

b) take a walk around town until some boorish individual latches on to you (Satires, I.9),

c) take a walk in the forest until some tree almost falls on you (Odes II.13),

d) visit your city cousin - if you're a country mouse (Satires 2.6),

e) paint a human head on a horse's neck (Ars Poetica),

f) take a nice long look at the snow on Mt. Soracte (Odes I.9),

g) remember your Pyrrha (Odes I.5),

h) build a  monument more lasting than bronze - i.e. write a really good book of poems (Odes 3.30);

or finally,

i) just seize the day (Odes I.11).

Of Mice and Merman

With the death of Vic Mizzy, who wrote the themes songs of "The Addams Family" and "Green Acres" (in my opinion, the best literary depiction of country/city dichotomy since the story of the town mouse and country mouse of Horace's Satire II.vi!), I got to thinking about other famous television theme songs. This train of thought led me to the "Beverly Hillbillies" theme by Flatt and Scruggs:

Come and listen to the story of a man named Jed
a poor mountaineer who barely kept his family fed
Then one day he was shooting at some food
and up from the ground came a bubbling crude!

Oil, that is, black gold, Texas tea.

Well the next thing you know
old Jed's a millionaire
the kin folk said, "Jed, move away from there"
Said Californy is the place you ought to be
so they loaded up the truck and moved to Beverly

Hills that is, swimming pools movie stars.

That theme naturally led me to the wonderful Ethel Merman number in the Irving Berlin musical Call Me Madam, the best song ever about striking it rich in the oil business:

I was born on a thousand acres of Oklahoma land
nothing grew on the thousand acres

for it was gravel and sand
One day daddy was digging in the fields
hoping to find some soil
He dug and he dug
and what do you think?
Oil, Oil, OIL!

The money rolled in and I rolled out
with a fortune piled so high.
Washington was my destination
and now who am I?

I'm the chosen party-giver
of the White House clientele
and they know that I deliver
what it takes to make them jell
And in Washington I'm known by one and all
as the Hostess with the Mostes' on the Ball!

This, in turn, leads us to tomorrow's lyric of the day! Tune in tomorrow.

Y'all come back now, y'hear?

Now is the time for drinking...

As archeologists inch ever closer to finding the tomb of Cleopatra, take another look at Horace's wonderful Odes I.37, more commonly known as his "Cleopatra Ode." Cleopatra, from the beginning, has been a figure hard to get one's head around.

Notice how, despite its initial hatred toward the prisoner (who's unnatural for any number of reasons, not the least of which is her being a woman) and genuine joy about her capture, by the end the poem reflects a respect for an honorable enemy who faces defeat (well, just like a man).

XXXVII. Nunc Est Bibendum. (translated by John Conington)

Now drink we deep, now featly tread
A measure; now before each shrine
With Salian feasts the table spread;
The time invites us, comrades mine.
'Twas shame to broach, before to-day,
The Caecuban, while Egypt's dame
Threaten'd our power in dust to lay
And wrap the Capitol in flame,
Girt with her foul emasculate throng,
By Fortune's sweet new wine befool'd,
In hope's ungovern'd weakness strong
To hope for all; but soon she cool'd,
To see one ship from burning'scape;
Great Caesar taught her dizzy brain,
Made mad by Mareotic grape,
To feel the sobering truth of pain,
And gave her chase from Italy,
As after doves fierce falcons speed,
As hunters 'neath Haemonia's sky
Chase the tired hare, so might he lead
The fiend enchain'd; SHE sought to die
More nobly, nor with woman's dread
Quail'd at the steel, nor timorously
In her fleet ships to covert fled.
Amid her ruin'd halls she stood
Unblench'd, and fearless to the end
Grasp'd the fell snakes, that all her blood
Might with the cold black venom blend,
Death's purpose flushing in her face;
Nor to our ships the glory gave,
That she, no vulgar dame, should grace
A triumph, crownless, and a slave.

I gotta start takin' the bus!

NORWALK, CT: Students Sold Cocktails On Bus (December 20, 2008)

Norwalk officials say three middle school students turned their school bus into a club car by selling mixed drinks to other students. Ponus Ridge Middle School administrators plan to address concerns about student drinking with parents and students. Principal Linda Sumpter says the three students will be disciplined for selling drinks on the bus to at least 20 other children. She says she has met with the students and their parents.—Associated Press

Some thoughts:

1) Did the bus driver get a cut of the take or, at the very least, courtesy drinks?

Even if not, I can imagine his/her thinking: "Well, they're fairly quiet and well-behaved, and one of 'em's even dressed in a white shirt and black bow tie and being helpful to the others. How lucky can I be?!"

2) Where'd the middle schoolers learn to make mixed drinks? Beer, wine, or something served neat would be impressive enough, but, if they were making Grasshoppers and Harvey Wallbangers (heck, even Gin and Tonics or Rum and Cokes), that'd be commendable for nothing more than the dexterity of doing all this on a moving school bus without a permanent bar.

(I fully realize the drinks mentioned above show that my sole knowledge of alcohol dates back to my watching my parents entertain in the late 60s and early 70s or Andrews Sisters' songs from the 40s! I know a little bit more about wine -- but that's only because I love the poetry of the Roman Horace. Speaking of which, anybody know where I can get a nice Falernian or Massic, vintage 30 B.C.E.? Sigh.)

****

Since this post started with buses, let me say I've always admired that, whenever buses pass one another on the road (city buses, school buses, charter buses, tour buses, etc.), the drivers always acknowledge one another with a little wave or nod of the head.

Now THAT'S true "professional courtesy" and not something that I've seen in any other field.

A toast to you all.

Ten (Nonfiction) Books I Wish I Had Written/Edited

Tim Brooks and Earle Marsh
The Complete Directory of Prime Time Network TV Shows 1946-Present (First Edition, 1979)

Steele Commager
The Odes of Horace: A Critical Study

Philip Furia
The Poets of Tin Pan Alley

Thomas M. Greene
The Descent from Heaven: A Study in Epic Continuity

Pete Hamill
Why Sinatra Matters

Cotton Mather
Bonifacius or Essays to Do Good

Fred J. Nichols
Anthology of Neo-Latin Literature

Alan Schwartz
Numbers Game: Baseball's Lifelong Fascination with Statistics

Lee Server
Ava Gardner: Love is Nothing

Jan Ziolkowski and Michael Putnam
The Virgilian Tradition: The First 1500 Years