Frustratio...

...about the Latin language! During the Summer holiday last year, my Latin teacher and I exchanged emails in Latin (well partly on my part). She would send me a story about her day, greetings etc, and I would say something along the lines of: ''Gratias tibi ago pro epistula tua, mihi delectat. Etiam mihi bene placet quod...'' etc, and I would translate what she wrote, and send it back with a story of my own in very bad Latin...! I have learned a lot in the last year, but still not as much as I would like. You would think that after three years of earnest study, I'd be more competent in the language!

I mentioned before that I own several Latin anthologies, books, short stories, fairy tales etc; sometimes they are easy to read, sometimes they are not. Certainly tackling something like Caesar or Cicero is at this time rather self-defeating. It's rather strange, because the word-form and aesthetic are all familiar, the same with cases, word-endings, they are all fine, but my vocabulary seems rather impoverished, and sometimes metre can be confusing. I often wonder if this is like a chastisement for my sins - or I am just not that good. I know many Latinists, and they all say the same thing: keep at it! Adhuc frustra! I am, however (and amidst other things) returning to my translation of (part of) St John's Gospel; so far I have only done chapters I-III.

It is nice to receive so many kind and interesting comments from readers. Blogging is an interesting thing, sed ''periculosae plenum opus aleae'' ut Flaccus scripsit (although I doubt he had blogging in mind!) Let me just wade on with my Latin now...

The above image is completely unrelated to what I have just said: it is a painting by Ted Nasmith that depicts the scene from Book II of The Lord of the Rings where Frodo and Haldir ascend the high flet of Cerin Amroth and look towards the green city of Caras Galadhon. It is not quite as I imagine it, but you can form your own image too if you like. It is one of my favourite moments in the whole book. Tolkien writes that Frodo longed to fly like a bird to rest in that green city, the place that seemed fairest in all the land, and from which all of its fairness radiated - kind of like the feeling you get when you close your eyes and you look in the direction of the Sun - you know that it is a nice day, and that the Sun is warm, but when you turn your head hither, you know that that is where the Sun is, and from that place comes all the light and all the warmth. Kind of like Our Lord, who is the Morning Sun and the Light of the World - I imagine that when the children ran to embrace Him (and were foolishly obstructed by the Disciples), Christ's embrace must have been nice, clean and warm. Although I digress, you think that when Frodo descends to the feet of Cerin Amroth, it is all over. But he looks upon Aragorn who seems to be in a trance, he utters a lovely farewell to his beloved Arwen in the Quenya tongue, and turns to Frodo and says: ''Here is the heart of Elvendom on earth, and here my heart dwells ever, unless there be a light beyond the dark roads that we still must tread, you and I. Come with me!'' This beautiful scene puts me in mind of the Psalms, particularly that verse from the Office that says: Laetatus sum in his quae dicta sunt mihi: in domum Domini ibimus!'' My feelings about regular church attendance are exactly this. I simply adore it.