I inherited this ring. I know very little about its provenance.

It might have been my grandmother’s. She was Argentine, and if it was hers it probably comes from Argentina.

It might have been my grandfather’s mother’s. She was a Jew who emigrated to Argentina from Eastern Europe in the late 19th or early 20th century. If it was hers, I have no idea where it originally came from. (She was born in Bessarabia; my great-grandfather in Podolia.)

My great-grandmother was a Yiddish speaker, and though I can strain to construe a few of these characters as Hebrew letters, nothing very convincingly.

Can anybody help?

(There are more photos on flickr.)

November 24, 2008 · Genealogy, Language · 3 comments


–Adapted from Pañcatantra; Hitopadeśa. (Killingley: Lesson 17, page 124)

(Killingley: “This story, like other Pañcatantra stories, became known in Europe through an eighth-century Arabic version. The well-known version about the Welsh prince Llewellyn and his dog dates from the end of the eighteenth century.”)

 

Once a Brahmin lived in a village. The Brahmin’s wife and son and mongoose* lived in the house. The Brahmin’s wife nurtured the mongoose like a son with food and milk. And the Brahmin was fond of the mongoose as of a son. Now once, the Brahmin’s wife said: “Āryaḥ,** in the morning I am going to the lake to bathe.” The Brahmin said: “Then I will stay in the house and watch our son.” So in the morning the wife went to the lake for a bath. Now, later on, the king’s messenger approached the house. And the messenger said to the Brahmin: “Āryaḥ, today the king offers gifts. So if Āryaḥ goes to the palace then the king will offer gifts to Āryaḥ.” So the Brahmin thought: “If I go, then who will watch the boy? But if I don’t go, then how will I get gifts? What do I do?” So he said to the mongoose: “If you stay here and watch the boy, then I will go to the palace.” The Brahmin thus left the boy in the house and from greed went with the messenger. And the mongoose stayed in the house and watched the boy.

Now, in the Brahmin’s house is a hole, and in the hole lives a snake. And when the brahmin left the house, the snake left the hole and approached the boy. But when the mongoose saw the snake, he thought: “If he touches the boy with his teeth, the snake will kill the boy.” And so for a long time the mongoose fought with the snake. Then the mongoose defeated the snake in the fight and killed it with his teeth. The mongoose thus protected*** the boy from the snake. Now, when the Brahmin’s wife again came from the lake, she saw the snake’s blood on the mongoose’s mouth****. So from folly she thought: “Surely the mongoose ate the boy.” So from anger she killed the mongoose with a stick.

 

* There is something of a translating frustration here, similar to the one I alluded to in a note to an earlier translation: this Sanskrit word refers to a specific animal, and we know that animal, and have an English name for it, but whether for the sound of the word itself or from cultural associations with the creature, it sounds stupid or comical or inelegant in English, and not in the original. The haṃsaḥ (हंसः) is a beautiful bird with mystical connotations in India; in English it’s a goose. The nakulaḥ (नकुलः) is an intelligent mammal that can be kept as a pet, taught tricks, and keeps away pests; in English it’s a mongoose (with no etymological link to goose, incidentally). A translator might just change them into swans and dogs, privileging cultural and emotional connotations over biology, but what can I say? It’s a mongoose. We’re all adults here.

** Āryaḥ is a term of respect, especially for a Brahmin, sometimes translated as sir or your honor. Its root has a wide range of meanings, mostly having to do with goodness or nobility. It or a related form is (strangely) the origin of the English word aryan, and is probably related etymologically to the Greek aristos, arete, ortho-, etc.

*** The verb, literally to guard or to protect (rakṣati / रक्षति), is the same one translated several times above as watch (as in, to watch the boy). Here he is thus performing exactly the duty he was given.

**** Or face. (mukham / मुखम्)

November 22, 2008 · Literature, Quotations, Sanskrit · (No comments)


The sticky notes of things to write about (including The Wire) are growing fuller and multiplying, and my time seems only to do the former, not quite the latter.

I’m not sixty pages into the Mahābhārata, I’ve so far had one conversation about it, and there’s already an inexhaustible amount to say. Mr. Venkatesh told us that his advice to those just setting out with this book is to take a flashlight, a sleeping bag, and plenty of water; because you’ll get lost and have to stay the night.

For now, a contextless paragraph:

Thereupon the man said to him, “I am pleased with this your song of praise. What favor can I do for you?” He said to him, “The Snakes shall be in my power!” The man replied, “Blow into this horse’s arse.” He blew the horse in the arse, whereupon from the blown-up horse smoking flames billowed out from all the orifices. With them he smoked out the world of the Snakes. Frenzied, desperately afraid of the hot power of the fire, Takṣaka seized the earrings, fled at once from his dwelling, and said to Utanka, “Sir, take back these earrings!”

Mahābhārata, 1(3) Pauṣya, 155 (Trans: J.A.B. van Buitenen)

October 29, 2008 · Literature, Quotations, Sanskrit · (No comments)


There is in the forest a brahmin. And once, he gets a goat in the village. So he puts the goat on his shoulder and walks on the road. Now, on the road three thieves see the brahmin, but the brahmin doesn’t see the thieves. And the thieves because of greed want the goat. So they say: “How do we steal the goat from the brahmin? We make a plan.” So the thieves think up a plan. First, one thief asks the brahmin: “O brahmin! Why, sir, do you carry a dog on your shoulder?” Then the brahmin says: “Sir, what are you saying? It’s just a goat. I never touch dogs.” So the brahmin again walks on the road. Later, the second thief asks the brahmin: “Why does your honor carry a dog on the shoulder?” So the brahmin puts the goat on the ground and examines it. And the brahmin thinks: “Why does he speak so? Surely it is just a goat.” So the brahmin puts the goat on his shoulder and walks on the road. Later, the third thief asks: “Sir, are you a hunter?” So the brahmin says: “No. I am a brahmin.” The thief says: “Then why does a dog remain on a brahmin’s shoulder?” So the brahmin from foolishness thinks: “Because people say so, surely it is a dog.” So he leaves the goat on the ground and goes again toward home. And because brahmin never touch dogs, he bathes. Thus the thieves by means of a plan get the brahmin’s goat.

–Adapted from Pañcatantra and Hitopadeśa (Killingley: Lesson 16, page 117)

October 22, 2008 · Literature, Quotations, Sanskrit · (No comments)


A jackal lives in the forest. Now one time, he goes from the forest and enters the city. And there he falls in a vat of indigo. And he thinks: “How do I escape?” But later a man sees the jackal. So he pulls the jackal from the vat and puts him on the ground. Thus the jackal escapes the vat of indigo. Later, he goes to a lake. And in the water he sees his face. And when he sees the color in his face, he is pleased. And he thinks: “I now am the king*.” Then he enters the forest. When they see the color, the jackals think: “He shows the color of a king. Surely he is the king.” So they bow and say: “King, what do you want? We listen.” And the jackal is pleased. And he says: “If you do the king’s command, then you live happily. But if because of foolishness you forget the king’s commend, then I become angry.” So they fear, and do the jackal’s command. Now, the rabbits say to the jackal: “Because we see the king’s color, we bow. Because you surely are king.” Later the deer see the jackal’s color and think: “Surely he is king, and we the king’s servants.” And the elephants do thus. And later even the lions bow and do the jackal’s command. Thus the jackal by the color’s power becomes king of the forest. But one time, the jackals of the forest howl. And when he hears the howl, the king also howls. Then the lions become angry. And they say: “Surely a king he is not. He is only a jackal. Why do we do a jackal’s orders?” So they kill the jackal.

–Adapted from Hitopadeśa, chapter 3 (Killingley: Lesson 15, page 109)

 

*Sanskrit has no definite article, so this and other instances can be translated as “the king” or “a king.” And the word here translated as king is mahārājaḥ (महाराजः).

October 19, 2008 · Literature, Quotations, Sanskrit · (No comments)