That Beowulf was written by an Irishman called Kevin? Unthinkable? How about an acrostic of cwealmcuman (792), ænig (802), burston (818), Geatmecga (829), inwidsorge (831) & niða (845) - it would have to be Middle Irish or the b would be an m, as I understand it.
It all seems a bit random, perhaps - but: in one way of setting out the poem, the rune eþel is separated, on the 3 occasions it occurs, from the word gist by 528, 528 and 527 lines respectively.
Ethelgist could be a name and so a signature, but I don't entirely believe in it. What if the phrase or compound were a translation of patriae alienus, I ask myself, and find that phrase is used by Gregory in reference to Cain.
So separate 'Cain' - CA+527+IN, and substitute letters of the alphabet for these numbers: CAEBGIN.
Which crosses cæbgin in a nice symmetrical way: the mean of the first eþel-gist pair is 829.
Saturday, 21 December 2013
Wednesday, 10 July 2013
A little trial balloon:
Listen! The Spear-Danes in olden times:
we've heard about the glories of those kings,
princes that did deeds of valour then.
Scyld of the Sheaf line – often from enemy warbands,
many nations of them, he tore away their mead benches,
terrorized their fighters, from the time he was first found,
a helpless child. Fortune made it up to him,
he grew up beneath the skies, earned honours,
to the point that every one of the peoples settled round about,
across the whales' roads, was obliged to obey him,
yield tribute – that was a good king for you!
Listen! The Spear-Danes in olden times:
we've heard about the glories of those kings,
princes that did deeds of valour then.
Scyld of the Sheaf line – often from enemy warbands,
many nations of them, he tore away their mead benches,
terrorized their fighters, from the time he was first found,
a helpless child. Fortune made it up to him,
he grew up beneath the skies, earned honours,
to the point that every one of the peoples settled round about,
across the whales' roads, was obliged to obey him,
yield tribute – that was a good king for you!
Tuesday, 9 July 2013
Horace, Odes 1, 22
A man who's pure in thought and deed
Of dangers, Fuscus, takes no heed,
No poisoned arrows will he need,
No bow or quiver.
Whether by Syrtis' surging shore
His way should take him, or the roar
Of torrents that from Caucasus pour:
Hydaspes' river.
In Sabine woods I wandered free
And warbled about Lalage:
A grey wolf took one glance at me
And ducked for cover.
As fierce as any lion you'd meet
That sucked on Libya's barren teat,
It cowered in abashed retreat
Before a lover.
Stuck on some treeless northern plain
If Fate should tell me to remain
While sad-sack Jove pours down the rain
Forever after,
Or in the land where Phoebus' car
Swoops down too low, and houses char,
I'll love her still, however far -
Her voice and laughter.
A man who's pure in thought and deed
Of dangers, Fuscus, takes no heed,
No poisoned arrows will he need,
No bow or quiver.
Whether by Syrtis' surging shore
His way should take him, or the roar
Of torrents that from Caucasus pour:
Hydaspes' river.
In Sabine woods I wandered free
And warbled about Lalage:
A grey wolf took one glance at me
And ducked for cover.
As fierce as any lion you'd meet
That sucked on Libya's barren teat,
It cowered in abashed retreat
Before a lover.
Stuck on some treeless northern plain
If Fate should tell me to remain
While sad-sack Jove pours down the rain
Forever after,
Or in the land where Phoebus' car
Swoops down too low, and houses char,
I'll love her still, however far -
Her voice and laughter.
Monday, 3 June 2013
A couple of years ago, after a service in the University Church in Oxford, I wrote:
'Reflected on forms of prayer – whether reiteration of formulas helps straighten the mind and iron out kinks. Must read what Johnson says on subject. Good literature does the same thing, I think, but more slowly and you have to be exposed to it. Perhaps long exposure of English to Prayer Book liturgy has done something for them, because I think that as people go they are a fairly sane lot.'
Now I read this in New Scientist (May 11, 2013):
'Reflected on forms of prayer – whether reiteration of formulas helps straighten the mind and iron out kinks. Must read what Johnson says on subject. Good literature does the same thing, I think, but more slowly and you have to be exposed to it. Perhaps long exposure of English to Prayer Book liturgy has done something for them, because I think that as people go they are a fairly sane lot.'
Now I read this in New Scientist (May 11, 2013):
‘Feeling run-down? Try a little chanting or meditation – yes, really. Such relaxation techniques can boost the activity of genes that promote good health, and a few minutes each day is enough to show results.’
Yet the benefits, though apparently real, seem to flow only to the practitioner: adherents of religions emphasizing the repetition of rituals or meditation are as prone as anyone to violence against their fellow-person.
Emphasis on the content, rather than the form, of religious observance, while it might do less for you, might do more for others.
Tuesday, 28 May 2013
Some thoughts about the narrative structure of My Neighbour Totoro (Studio Ghibli 1988):
We open on S2, the new place. It often entails separation from parents, and here, of course, it is separation from the mother that is at issue. It’s a place where everything awaits discovery, but there are images of death as well – the bottle in the limpid stream, the decayed woodwork, the rubbish under the house. The girls’ father, I think, plays the role of King, while the old grandmother is a mentor. There should be an easy task to make the transition to the next phase – perhaps the father’s instruction to the girls in the bath to laugh off the frightening aspect of natural phenomena is it. This phase concludes with their visit to the hospital on the bicycle and the news that their mother will be better soon. The role of Hero is distributed between the two girls here, though Mei is the primary focus.
The garden, a, begins the next day, which opens with the image of the camphor tree. Mei gathers flowers after Satsuki has gone to school, and is led in due course into Totoro’s sanctuary in the heart of the tree. The flowers, ferns and butterflies emphasize the idyllic setting, echoed in the outer world by the landscape through which Satsuki is seen returning from school. Later the father explains the tutelary role of the tree, and the day, and phase, close with Totoro sitting atop the tree in the moonlight. Totoro is clearly Princess here, while Mei is Hero.
The next phase is transitional. We would expect a difficult journey, and what we get is a troubled journey both for the girls – Mei runs away to the school, the two sisters make their way home in the rain, and for their father, who misses the train and isn’t on the expected bus. Totoro makes an early appearance as Donor, giving the girls the bundle of acorns which lead to the dream-sequence promise of protection, ending with Totoro and the girls perched on the camphor tree. In the morning, an image of birth, the acorns have sprouted.
The wilderness, $, begins with the arrival of the telegram. The children are gathering vegetables with the old woman, who as Donor gives Mei the valuable token of the cob of corn which is an assurance of health for her mother. But when Mei, desperate to find her mother, becomes lost, not once but twice, Satsuki takes over the role of Hero and her search for Mei is the difficult task. She invokes the aid of Totoro (Donor), and with the cat bus (Helper) finds Mei and is reassured that their mother will be well. The final sequences reassure us that we have arrived at the city (S1). This often involves a reunion, or the forging of a new relationship, with parents – we have the girls’ mother arriving at their new house in a taxi, and the three of them in the bath together, but also images of the girls playing with the neighbourhood children. They are part of a new society now.
We open on S2, the new place. It often entails separation from parents, and here, of course, it is separation from the mother that is at issue. It’s a place where everything awaits discovery, but there are images of death as well – the bottle in the limpid stream, the decayed woodwork, the rubbish under the house. The girls’ father, I think, plays the role of King, while the old grandmother is a mentor. There should be an easy task to make the transition to the next phase – perhaps the father’s instruction to the girls in the bath to laugh off the frightening aspect of natural phenomena is it. This phase concludes with their visit to the hospital on the bicycle and the news that their mother will be better soon. The role of Hero is distributed between the two girls here, though Mei is the primary focus.
The garden, a, begins the next day, which opens with the image of the camphor tree. Mei gathers flowers after Satsuki has gone to school, and is led in due course into Totoro’s sanctuary in the heart of the tree. The flowers, ferns and butterflies emphasize the idyllic setting, echoed in the outer world by the landscape through which Satsuki is seen returning from school. Later the father explains the tutelary role of the tree, and the day, and phase, close with Totoro sitting atop the tree in the moonlight. Totoro is clearly Princess here, while Mei is Hero.
The next phase is transitional. We would expect a difficult journey, and what we get is a troubled journey both for the girls – Mei runs away to the school, the two sisters make their way home in the rain, and for their father, who misses the train and isn’t on the expected bus. Totoro makes an early appearance as Donor, giving the girls the bundle of acorns which lead to the dream-sequence promise of protection, ending with Totoro and the girls perched on the camphor tree. In the morning, an image of birth, the acorns have sprouted.
The wilderness, $, begins with the arrival of the telegram. The children are gathering vegetables with the old woman, who as Donor gives Mei the valuable token of the cob of corn which is an assurance of health for her mother. But when Mei, desperate to find her mother, becomes lost, not once but twice, Satsuki takes over the role of Hero and her search for Mei is the difficult task. She invokes the aid of Totoro (Donor), and with the cat bus (Helper) finds Mei and is reassured that their mother will be well. The final sequences reassure us that we have arrived at the city (S1). This often involves a reunion, or the forging of a new relationship, with parents – we have the girls’ mother arriving at their new house in a taxi, and the three of them in the bath together, but also images of the girls playing with the neighbourhood children. They are part of a new society now.
Tuesday, 22 January 2013
improvised during a waking moment at some early hour:
My love is like a candle
That someone set alight.
My love is like a boxing glove
That's useful in a fight.
My love is like a towel
That's neither wet nor dry.
My love is like an extra lens
Implanted in the eye.
Any reference to a living person? Who knows?
My love is like a candle
That someone set alight.
My love is like a boxing glove
That's useful in a fight.
My love is like a towel
That's neither wet nor dry.
My love is like an extra lens
Implanted in the eye.
Any reference to a living person? Who knows?
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