The Last Samurai

ο not μíν introductory particle γρ for τí anything [neuter nominative singular] πο anywhere στιν is [3rd person singular present indicative] ïζυρτερον more miserable/ wretched [neuter nom. sing, comparative] νδρς than man [M. genitive singular after comparative adjective]

πντωυ of all things [neuter genitive plural] σσα as many things [neuter nominative plural] τε particle showing generalisation γαĩαν earth [fem. accusative singular] πι upon [here postpositive] πνεíει breathe [3rd person singular present indicative dependent on neuter plural noun] τε κα both and ρπει creep [3rd person sing. pres. indicative]

λλ’ but ο not μν emphatic particle μυ by you [2nd p. dative plural] γε emphatic particle κα and ρμασι chariot [neuter dative plural] δαιδαλοισιν glittering, cunningly made [neuter dative plural]

‘’Εκτωρ Hector Πριαμíδης son of Priam ποχσεται will be carried [3rd p. singular future passive indicative] ο not γρ for σω I will allow [1st p. singular future active indicative]

It seemed to be rather longer than I had expected.

It had also taken a bit longer to write than I had expected (two hours). This still compared favourably with a five-hour unwritable note. I wrote a final paragraph pointing out that for a real Rosetta Stone you would probably want to have a third column with Chinese but unfortunately I did not know any of the characters, and then I said that if he had ever come across the poem of Keats on looking into Chapman’s Homer he would probably be interested and surprised to see that this was what Chapman had written:

De dumty dumty dumty dum love saw their heavy chear,

And (pittying them) spake to his minde; Poor wretched beasts (said he)

Why gave we you t’a mortall king? De dumty dumty dum

De dumty dumty dumty dum de dumty dumty dum?

De dumty dumty dumty dum de dumty dumty dum?

Of all the miserable’st things that breathe and creepe on earth,

No one more wretched is then man. And for your deathless birth,

Hector must faile to make you prise de dumty dumty dum

and then I just said you see how easy it would be I hope you like it Must dash—S and after the S I put an illegible dashing scrawl because I thought there was a good chance he had not caught my name the night before.

Then I put this on a table where he would be bound to see it. It had seemed so plausible and suave when I had had the idea in bed, and yet now I wondered whether Liberace would realise that I was politely implying etc. etc. or whether it just looked outré. Too late, and so good-bye.

I got home and I thought I should stop leading so aimless an existence. It is harder than you might think to stop leading an existence, & if you can’t do that the only thing you can do is try to introduce an element of purposefulness.

Whether Liberace liked the Horses of Achilles I do not know (going by his other remarks it would not surprise me to learn that he felt like Cortez gazing on the Pacific on reading the Chapman). It had made me happy to write down the passage, anyway, & I thought that I could now do this for the whole Iliad and Odyssey with interleaved pages explaining various features of grammar and dialect and formulaic composition. I could print them up for a few thousand pounds and sell them at a market stall and people would be able to read them regardless of whether they had studied French or Latin or some other irrelevant subject at school. Then I could do something similar for other languages which are even harder to study at school than Greek, and though I might have to wait another 30 or 40 years for my body to join the non-sentient things in the world at least in the meantime it would be a less absolutely senseless sentience. OK.

One day Emma invited me into her office for a talk. She explained that she would be leaving the company. What would I do? If her job disappeared, so would mine. I hadn’t been with the firm long enough to be entitled to maternity pay. Was I planning to go back to the States to have the baby?

I did not know what to say.

I didn’t say anything, and Emma made practical suggestions. She said the publisher was launching a project into 20th-century language which involved typing and tagging magazine text for computer; she said she had made inquiries, and thought she could get me smuggled onto this under my work permit. She said there would be no problem about taking the computer to work from the home since the office had been downsized out of existence. She said that she knew of a house whose owner could not afford to fix it and who was afraid it would be occupied by squatters if she did not rent it; she said that the owner would let me have it for £150 a month if I did not ask her to fix it. I did not know what to say. She said she would understand if I wanted to go back to the States to be with my family. I knew what not to say: I did not say no one could understand that, for I would have to be mad to do it. I said: Thank you very much.