The Curse of Babel

A new literary quiz each week or so, usually with a theme. This week: Perhaps more of a puzzle than a Quiz, in that you are required to identify ten extracts presented in their original* tongue-twisting languages. These extracts have not been selected entirely at random - even if, like any sensible person, you have no knowledge of the vile jabberings displayed, you should be able to puzzle out what they are, if you possess what is laughingly called The General Cultural Background. In other words, you need to be George Steiner. I apologize in advance if any of these extracts do not display properly in your cheap browser. Avanti! Vorwärts! En marche!

The quotations in these quizzes reflect my own tastes - Dead White Males, for the most part (Jane Austen, of course, counts as an honorary DWM). There will never be anything wilfully obscure. If you're the sort of person who sneers at the naïveté of the reviewers in the TLS and New York Review of Books, you'll recognize them at once. I welcome suggestions and insults. You'll find an e-mail tag lying around somewhere. Please put QUIZ in the subject line.

1)

    Nous étions à l'Etude, quand le Proviseur entra, suivi d'un nouveau habillé en bourgeois et d'un garçon de classe qui portait un grand pupitre. Ceux qui dormaient se réveillèrent, et chacun se leva comme surpris dans son travail.
    Le Proviseur nous fit signe de nous rasseoir; puis, se tournant vers le maître d'études:
    - Monsieur Roger, lui dit-il à demi-voix, voici un élève que je vous recommande, il entre en cinquième. Si son travail et sa conduite sont méritoires, il passera dans les grands, où l'appelle son age.
    Resté dans l'angle, derrière la porte, si bien qu'on l'apercevait à peine, le nouveau était un gars de la campagne, d'une quinzaine d'années environ, et plus haut de taille qu'aucun de nous tous. Il avait les cheveux coupés droit sur le front, comme un chantre de village, l'air raisonnable et fort embarrassé. Quoiqu'il ne fût pas large des épaules, son habit-veste de drap vert à boutons noirs devait le gêner aux entournures et laissait voir, par la fente des parements, des poignets rouges habitués à être nus. Ses jambes, en bas bleus, sortaient d'un pantalon jaunâtre très tiré par les bretelles. Il était chaussé de souliers forts, mal cirés, garnis de clous.


Answer

2)

  Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
    mi ritrovai per una selva oscura
    ché la diritta via era smarrita.

  Ahi quanto a dir qual era è cosa dura
    esta selva selvaggia e aspra e forte
    che nel pensier rinova la paura!

  Tant’ è amara che poco è più morte;
    ma per trattar del ben ch'i' vi trovai,
    dirò de l’altre cose ch’i’ v’ho scorte.

  Io non so ben ridir com'i' v'intrai,
    tant'era pien di sonno a quel punto
    che la verace via abbandonai.


Answer

3)

    Hwät! we Gâr-Dena   in geâr-dagum
    þeód-cyninga   þrym gefrunon,
    hû þâ äðelingas   ellen fremedon.
    Oft Scyld Scêfing   sceaðena þreátum,
    monegum mægðum   meodo-setla ofteáh.
    Egsode eorl,   syððan ærest wearð
    feá-sceaft funden:   he þäs frôfre gebâd,
    weôx under wolcnum,   weorð-myndum ðâh,
    ôð þät him æghwylc   þâra ymb-sittendra
    ofer hron-râde   hýran scolde,
    gomban gyldan:   þät wäs gôd cyning!
    þäm eafera wäs   äfter cenned
    geong in geardum,   þone god sende
    folce tô frôfre;   fyren-þearfe ongeat,
    þät hie ær drugon   aldor-leáse
    lange hwîle.   Him þäs lîf-freá,
    wuldres wealdend,   worold-âre forgeaf;


Answer

4)

    You move a motion? Steve boy, you're going it some. More bluggy drunkables? Will immensely splendiferous stander permit one stooder of most extreme poverty and one largesize grandacious thirst to terminate one expensive inaugurated libation? Give's a breather. Landlord, landlord, have you good wine, staboo? Hoots, mon, wee drap to pree. Cut and come again. Right Boniface! Absinthe the lot. Nos omnes biberimus viridum toxicum diabolus capiat posteriora nostra. Closingtime, gents. Eh? Rome boose for the Bloom toff. I hear you say onions? Bloo? Cadges ads? Photo's papli, by all that's gorgeous! Play low, pardner. Slide. Bonsoir la compagnie. And snares of the poxfiend. Where's the buck and Namby Amby? Skunked? Leg bail. Aweel, ye maun e'en gang yer gates. Checkmate. King to tower. Kind Kristyann will yu help, yung man hoose frend tuk bungalo kee to find plais whear to lay crown off his hed 2 night. Crickey, I'm about sprung. Tarnally doggone my shins if this beent the bestest puttiest longbreakyet. Item, curate, couple of cookies for this child. Cot's plood and prandypalls, none! Not a pite of sheeses? Thrust syphilis down to hell and with him those other licensed spirits. Time. Who wander through the world. Health all. A la vôtre!


Answer

5)

    Fue luego a ver su rocín, y, aunque tenía más cuartos que un real y más tachas que el caballo de Gonela, que tantum pellis et ossa fuit, le pareció que ni el Bucéfalo de Alejandro ni Babieca el del Cid con él se igualaban. Cuatro días se le pasaron en imaginar qué nombre le pondría; porque, según se decía él a sí mesmo, no era razón que caballo de caballero tan famoso, y tan bueno él por sí, estuviese sin nombre conocido; y ansí, procuraba acomodársele de manera que declarase quién había sido, antes que fuese de caballero andante, y lo que era entonces; pues estaba muy puesto en razón que, mudando su señor estado, mudase él también el nombre, y le cobrase famoso y de estruendo, como convenía a la nueva orden y al nuevo ejercicio que ya profesaba. Y así, después de muchos nombres que formó, borró y quitó, añadió, deshizo y tornó a hacer en su memoria e imaginación, al fin le vino a llamar Rocinante: nombre, a su parecer, alto, sonoro y significativo de lo que había sido cuando fue rocín, antes de lo que ahora era, que era antes y primero de todos los rocines del mundo.


Answer

6(Translation!)

    Mi jus diris “tre profundan.” Nu, au la sakto estis efektive tre profunda, au si falis tre malrapide; car dum la dauro de tiu stranga defalo, ne mankis al si tempo por trankvile cirkau rigardi kaj por konjekti pri kio estas okazonta. Unue, si klopodis rigardi malsupren por esplori al kio si alvenas; sed klopodis vane, car estis tie tro mallume. Tiam si ekobservis la murojn de la sakto, kaj rimarkis ke ili estas plenaj de srankoj kaj librobretoj; ankau, tie ci kaj tie, si preterfalis landkartojn kaj bildojn pendigitajn de najloj. Poste si, preterpasante, deprenis de apuda breto unu fruktajujon; sur gi per grandaj literoj estas skribita MARMELADO. Sed jen por si granda cagreno; car, enrigardante, la avidaj okuloj vidis - nur blankan malplenon! Si ne volis lasi fali la fajencajon, pro la timo mortigi per gi iun subulon, sed sukcesis post kelkaj momentoj remeti gin, preterpasante, en srankon.


Answer

7)

    Ande al grayþed in grene þis gome & his wedes,
    A strayt cote ful stre3t, þat stek on his sides,
    A mere mantile abof, mensked with-inne,
    With pelure pured apert þe pane ful clene,
    With blyþe blaunner ful bry3t, & his hod boþe,
    Þat wat3 la3t fro his lokke3, & layde on his schulderes
    Heme wel haled, hose of þat same grene,
    Þat spenet on his sparlyr, & clene spures vnder,
    Of bry3t golde, vpon silk bordes, barred ful ryche
    & scholes vnder schankes, þere þe schalk rides;
    & alle his vesture uerayly wat3 clene verdure,
    Boþe þe barres of his belt & oþer blyþe stones,
    Þat were richely rayled in his aray clene,
    Aboutte hym-self & his sadel, vpon silk werke3,
    Þat were to tor for to telle of tryfles þe halue,
    Þat were enbrauded abof, wyth bryddes & fly3es,
    With gay gaudi of grene, þe golde ay in myddes;
    Þe pendauntes of his payttrure, þe proude cropure
    His molaynes, & alle þe metail anamayld was þenne
    Þe steropes þat he stod on, stayned of þe same,
    & his arsoun3 al after, & his aþel sturtes,
    Þat euer glemered & glent al of grene stones.
    Þe fole þat he ferkkes on, fyn of þat ilke, sertayn;
        A grene hors gret & þikke,
        A stede ful stif to strayne,
        In brawden brydel quik,
        To þe gome he wat3 ful gayn.


Answer

8)

9)

    Arma virumque cano, Troiae qui primus ab oris
    Italiam, fato profugus, Laviniaque venit
    litora, multum ille et terris iactatus et alto
    vi superum saevae memorem Iunonis ob iram;
    multa quoque et bello passus, dum conderet urbem,
    inferretque deos Latio, genus unde Latinum,
    Albanique patres, atque altae moenia Romae.

    Musa, mihi causas memora, quo numine laeso,
    quidve dolens, regina deum tot volvere casus
    insignem pietate virum, tot adire labores
    impulerit. Tantaene animis caelestibus irae?


Answer

10)

    Winterstürme wichen dem Wonnemond,
    in mildem Lichte leuchtet der Lenz;
    auf linden Lüften leicht und lieblich,
    Wunder webend er sich wiegt;
    durch Wald und Auen weht sein Atem,
    weit geöffnet lacht sein Aug': -
    aus sel'ger Vöglein Sange süß er tönt,
    holde Düfte haucht er aus;
    seinem warmen Blut entblühen wonnige Blumen,
    Keim und Sproß entspringt seiner Kraft.
    Mit zarter Waffen Zier bezwingt er die Welt;
    Winter und Sturm wichen der starken Wehr:
    wohl mußte den tapfern Streichen
    die strenge Türe auch weichen,
    die trotzig und starr uns trennte von ihm. -
    Zu seiner Schwester schwang er sich her;
    die Liebe lockte den Lenz:
    in unsrem Busen barg sie sich tief;
    nun lacht sie selig dem Licht.
    Die bräutliche Schwester befreite der Bruder;
    zertrümmert liegt, was je sie getrennt:
    jauchzend grüßt sich das junge Paar:
    vereint sind Liebe und Lenz!


Answer

1)
Madame Bovary, G. Flaubert. A straightforward test for you, the identification of the opening words of one of the world's great works of art. And no, you don't get any points for knowing that it's in French.


Back to Question 1

2)
L'Inferno, D. d'Alighieri. A nice easy one - the opening words. The Wops claim that Dante is as great as Shake-Speare. They are wrong, of course - but not absurdly wrong.


Back to Question 2

3)
Beowulf. I apologize if this brings back bitter memories to you .... This is a tough one if you've never studied it. Give yourself a point if you knew it was Old English. Incidentally, have you ever seen a man of eighty-five talking with his five-year-old grandchild? They didn't have too much trouble understanding each other, did they? And yet a mere ten such conversations takes us back to the days when Anglo-Saxon (admittedly, not the complex literary language of Beowulf) was the common speech of the English people.


Back to Question 3

4)
Ulysses, J. Joyce. This is my trap question of the week. If you knew it was Joyce, but thought (having missed the give-away Bloom) that it was Finnegans Wake, you get NUL POINTS! But you can have a five-point bonus if you knew it was from Oxen of the Sun.


Back to Question 4

5)
Don Quixote, M. Cervantes. No tricks here: all you had to do was spot the tell-tale Rocinante. The horse on which d'Artagnan rides away from his father's house at the beginning of Les Trois Mousquetaires is, of course, a direct descendant of Don Quixote's famous charger.


Back to Question 5

6)
La Aventuroj de Alicio en Mirlando, L. Carroll. All right, all right, I know that Esperanto isn't a real language .... but you should have got it all the same! Didn't you see that jar of MARMALADE? Cu katoj mangas vespertojn?


Back to Question 6

7)
Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Now, this really was an easy one. Middle English, and easier to understand than a certain Northumbrian shepherd I used to know. Incidentally, if you're not familiar with this beautiful and subtle poem, please read it. You will never again make the lazy assumption that our mediaeval ancestors lacked sophistication.


Back to Question 7

8)
The Wild Duck, H. Ibsen. You needed to do a bit of detective-work here, unless the name Hjalmar Ekdal gave it to you straight away. Scandinavian of some sort .... obviously from the stage-directions of a play .... and so forth.


Back to Question 8

9)
The Aeneid, Virgil. Straightforward, again. The opening words, which run as follows in Dryden's version:

    Arms, and the man I sing, who, forc'd by fate,
    And haughty Juno's unrelenting hate,
    Expell'd and exil'd, left the Trojan shore.
    Long labors, both by sea and land, he bore,
    And in the doubtful war, before he won
    The Latian realm, and built the destin'd town;
    His banish'd gods restor'd to rites divine,
    And settled sure succession in his line,
    From whence the race of Alban fathers come,
    And the long glories of majestic Rome.
    O Muse! the causes and the crimes relate;
    What goddess was provok'd, and whence her hate;
    For what offense the Queen of Heav'n began
    To persecute so brave, so just a man;
    Involv'd his anxious life in endless cares,
    Expos'd to wants, and hurried into wars!
    Can heav'nly minds such high resentment show,
    Or exercise their spite in human woe?


Back to Question 9

10)
Die Walküre, R. Wagner. And I end on a suitably seasonal note, with Siegmund's Spring Song from the end of Act I. I wish you all plenty of Liebe this Lenz.

Back to Question 10

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Last Updated: 31 March 2006