Dream of the Rood

I’ve just escaped from four years of trying to bluff my way around an ancient language I could barely understand. So what do I do? Move onto another one.

Since I’m still in work-limbo, I’ve been spending part of my time learning Old English. It isn’t quite as ridiculous as it sounds – I’ve been interested in this stuff since my teens, and it was mainly personal circumstances that made me do the Sanskrit course at Cambridge rather than Anglo-Saxon, Norse and Celtic.

More importantly, this time round I get the benefits of doing it as a hobby. I don’t have to do any more grammar than necessary, I don’t need to feel guilty when I consult a translation, and I get to cherry-pick the interesting bits.

Unfortunately, the corpus is pretty small, so there aren’t many interesting bits. The one that

is

great fun is the Dream of the Rood. I first came across this when I went to an ASNAC open day five years ago, and all the students agreed it was the best text on the course. I’ve picked at it a few times, but this weekend is my first attempt at reading all the way through in the original.

It’s the story of the Crucifiction – but it’s the crucifiction told by the cross, and Jesus is a Saxon hero. Here’s how Jesus gets on to the cross:

Geseah ic þa frean mancynnes
efstan elne mycle  þæt he me wolde on gestigan.
Then I saw that lord of mankind
Rush with great courage to climb onto me
þær ic þa ne dorste       ofer dryhtnes word
bugan oððe berstan,     þa ic bifian geseah
eorðan sceatas.     Ealle ic mihte
feondas gefyllan,  hwæðre ic fæste stod.
There I did not dare to bend or break against the
word of God. Then I saw the surface of the earth trembling.
I could have fallen on all those enemies, but I stood firm.
Ongyrede hine þa geong hæleð,  (þæt wæs god ælmihtig),
strang ond stiðmod.  Gestah he on gealgan heanne,
modig on manigra gesyhðe,   þa he wolde mancyn lysan.
Then that young lord (who was God Almighty) undressed,
Strong and resolute.  He climbed onto that wretched cross,
Going boldly into the sight of many, since he would liberate mankind
Bifode ic þa me se beorn ymbclypte. Ne dorste ic hwæðre bugan to eorðan,
feallan to foldan sceatum,  ac ic sceolde fæste standan.
I trembled because this warrior had climbed onto me,
But I didn't dare bend to earth, to fall onto the dark ground. And I had to stand firm.

There are texts, translations, and notes on this all over the web. For reading it, the best I’ve found is this one, which links each word to a dictionary definition. And since the sentence structure is pretty similar to modern English, it’s not too hard to understand without formally learning the language.

Circus to Afghanistan

Back in the dim and distant past (2004?), Jo Wilding took a

Circus to Iraq

. Now it turns out somebody else has been doing the same thing in Afghanistan.

Perhaps with slightly different politics from Jo, or perhaps not – but who cares, it’s a circus!

Untitled

The front page of yesterday’s Independent quotes various high court judges grumbling about the government and civil liberties. My favourite is Lord Carlile of Berriew, who said that:

“If the Government under-mines the judiciary then the judiciary might be tempted to undermine the Government”

Somebody give that man a Kalashnikov, and let him start cells of guerilla judges.

The grand plan

I’ve recently had conversations with several of my f’list about what kind of work I’m looking for. They’re generally pretty unsatisfying – I’m very bad at explaining what I’m looking for, and my opinion of what job I can hope for varies with mood from “I can do anything” to “cleaning toilets is the best I can hope for”. I’ve told lots of you that I don’t know what I want, or that I just want something to pay the rent. Which is part-true, but not really.

So, I’ve finally tried to put it into writing. At least now I can point people at my LJ before muttering gloomily to them about the latest rejections.


The masterplan, take one

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Plans

Plans for the week:

Tuesday: WUS

Wednesday: CAN meeting dinner with sam and sarah, free in the daytime

Thursday: department party, south asia party, activist barbeque. All at the same time.

Friday: My party (eep!)

Saturday: CUID/stop aids/etc garden party in the afternoon (or rocksoc picnic), then Rocksoc May Brawl

Sunday (19th): rocksoc punting in the afternoon. Evening would have been bounce, if I’d been organised enough to buy a ticket. But I wasn’t, so the evening is free

Monday: CUFS punting

Tuesday/wednesday: free so far

Thursday 23rd: Calling

mmmm…my life seems to involve lots of acronyms

Two things I wrote in my exam and you didn’t

Sanskrit set text exams. The good part about them is that the set texts are bonkers. Friday’s exam included two gems

1. ‘He treats like a ladle’

(this is an example of a word that doesn’t exist. But the idea seems to be that it doesn’t exist *only* because the sanskrit word for ‘ladle’ doesn’t end in an n, and not because you wouldn’t want to treat people like ladles. A word that does exist is ‘he becomes chain mail’, which might come in handy for the roleplayers among you)


2. ‘Next, he prays to the anthill’

(This is what it sounds like. It’s a ritual. Somebody prays to an anthill. This is considered normal, as far as I can tell)

There are two more set text papers on tuesday and wednesday. I strongly suspect they will include more ridiculousness.

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Sentences

I’m not sure people quite believe me when I grumble about the long sentences in some of my set texts. So I thought I’d favour you all with a particularly fine example of the ridiculous sentence. Here’s a fine poetic account of the end of the day. Without full stops. And if you can make sense of the bits about the sandbank and the ivory crocodile, you’re doing better than the rest of us.


Describing sunset without full stops