Classical Nomenclature

The boy's place of work recently held a competition to name a previously unnamed building. The winning name was the 'Minerva Building' - somewhat predictable, I suppose, but with suitable connotations of wisdom and bellicosity. (Is that a word?)

The boy, however, is most disappointed.

He wanted to call it 'Ian'.

Which made me laugh. Very loudly.

Recognition, My Dearests

Two posts in one day!

Apologies for not acknowledging this earlier: our friends at Farrago have name-dropped us, so it is only fair to do the same back. My darlings, your labels are an art-form in themselves! Love and kisses to you all, but I'm afraid I don't have suitable quote to recite back.

So instead, I shall offer a picture and promise to add you to our faves now that I've finally managed to find you on blogger.


Eros and Psyche from the Capitoline, Roman copy of a Hellenistic original (2nd century, BC).

P.S. After some experimentation, Classicae et Fashionistae is now 'following' Farrago here on Blogger! xxx
P.P.S. That picture seemed like a good idea at the time, because I love the romance of that sculpture, but on reflection it's a tad too pornographic to truly represent our relationship, isn't it? Sorry guys... xxx

Murderous Medea: A Recipe for Wedding Disaster?

Who on earth would name a wedding dress after Medea?!



Elizabeth Fillmore, apparently. The above dress is cccccrrrraaaaazy in an eccentrically beautiful kind of way, but even if I had the necessary funds ($19,580, apparently - which is, what, the best part of £12,000?) I don't think I could bring myself to wear a dress worn by such an ill-starred mythological figure.

Let's remind ourselves of her story, shall we? (I'm sticking mostly with Euripides here, I think) Medea is minding her own business on Colchis when along comes the handsome Jason - who doesn't so much sweep her off her feet, as convince her to help him nick the rather valuable and certainly unique golden fleece by murdering and dismembering her own brother. Nice. Then, they get back home to Corinth, and after knocking her up a couple of times Jason announces he's leaving her for a princess (the daughter of the king, not just a spoilt blonde); as if that weren't bad enough, he pretty much tells her it's all her own fault for being different and that, not to worry, she can be an ex-wife with 'benefits', if she wants. In retaliation, Medea is emotionally torn, but decides to punish him by killing the two children she has borne him in cold blood (but off-stage). She doesn't even leave their little lifeless bodies behind for the now-bereft Jason to bury with the proper rites.

Even the myth seems to blame Jason, because Medea doesn't get her comeupance but is carried off on the sun-god's chariot. Ovid has a rather nice line in Medea's point of view, too, in his Heroides (note too that Jason has not one but two letters from scorned special lady friends in the Heroides, the cad!).

So all in all, not the best name for a wedding dress.

Augustus Rides Again

Ooh, look, my first post on something ancient! Even better, some bits of a bronze statue found in Germany, or Hesse to be more exact.


[Pic from slideshow at The Local]

Actually that title is a bit of misnomer in several ways. First off, from what I can see, there's not much of Augustus doing any riding left - most of the fragments seem to be bits of horse. And secondly, as the Rogue Classicist points out, given that all that survives of the rider is a shoe, labelling it as Augustus rather than any other emperor may be quite a leap of faith...

I think that horse looks a bit evil, mind. Something around the teeth...

Click though to Rogue Classcism for a more detailed report.