Zibaldone
Page 262
According to these observations, nobilis, gnobilis, ignobilis confirm the existence of a verb as the origin of nosco, to which it is clear they have some sort of connection; but if they came from nosco they would form noscibilis, etc., from noscitum, and even Forcellini who certainly had not observed the formation of verbal adjectives in bilis from the supines in tum, also saw that nobilis was almost the same as noscibilis (see under [3759] nobilis, beginning where he has various mistakes, according to our observations). From noscibilis the contraction to nobilis ignobilis, etc., would not be at all natural nor Latin. See ignoscibilis [excusable], an ancient form, in Forcellini, which confirms the supine noscitum, according to the present observations, and that from nosco would be formed noscibilis, not nobilis, as also from marcesco immarcescibilis, not immarcibilis, etc. See also in Forcellini noscibilis, agnoscibilis, etc., irascibilis. Besides nobilis, gnobilis, etc., are very ancient words, so that they could well have come from the very ancient and afterward unattested noo.
Possibilis [possible] (and impossibilis [impossible], possibilitas [possibility], etc.) shows possitus, and therefore the participle or supine situm of sum, confirming what was said by us in relation to sto, as potens shows the participle sens (pp. 3742–44).
Besides noo, poo and the like quickly fell into disuse probably because of the ugly sound of that double o one after the other, and therefore the use of the verbs derived from them was preserved, and they remained, and almost, or not even almost, in the sense of the original verbs (especially nosco and its compounds, etc.), or even [3760] in that sense, etc. Nosco however did not all remain, nor did noo perish completely, but there remain novi and notum, etc., in short a good part of them (where the ugly sound did not exist, or had been gotten rid of), which supplied the missing forms and losses suffered by the derivatives, etc. Thus of poo there remained potus, epotus, potum, poturus, etc., even more used than potatus, etc., and potus sum, etc. (22 Oct. 1823.) See p. 3850.
Nothing absolute. What appears more absolute and general, at least among men, than that corruption is nauseous? Now, we do not find sorb apples and medlars good to eat in the state which is true maturity and perfection for them, but rather in the state which is not in fact old age for them, but true death and corruption, so they are eaten overripe and corrupt. —What is disgusting is entirely relative. The snail does not find itself disgusting. We do not find disgusting what is in us, or has come out or been produced from us but it is disgusting to others. The pig enjoys wallowing in mud and filth, etc. And how many men deal with and love, and eat and enjoy, etc., [3761] things which to others (to all or to the majority or to some, in the same nation or in different ones) are very disgusting indeed. —The sorb apple, the medlar, according to us, is perfect when it is corrupt, since we measure the perfection of these, as we do of a myriad other things, by our own custom, etc. But who does not see that this perfection is entirely relative? And relative only to us, in fact to the custom of our palate and stomach alone, and insofar as the sorb apple is fit to become food for us some time, something that is completely accidental and extrinsic to it? And that the sorb apple is not for that reason any less corrupt and degenerate? nor, in itself and by its nature, less perfect at the moment when, etc., and not at another time, etc. (23 Oct. 1823.)
We can apply to man in general, taking account of the illusions and the way in which nature has substituted happy errors, etc., for real happiness, and indeed it can be applied to all kinds of living things, that line of Tasso (Gerusalemme 1, 3) “E da l’inganno suo vita riceve” [“And from its deception {the child} receives life”]. (23 Oct. 1823.)
Forte, fortemente, fort, force, etc., in place of molto, molti, etc. Κάρτα [very much]. See Scapula, and Arrian in the Indica and the Expeditio Alexandri, etc. And it should be noted that κάρτα [very much] for valde [very much] shows evidence of being extremely ancient, which is why it is poetic more than anything else, etc. See Forcellini, Glossary. French, Spanish, Italian dictionaries. The Latins, too, have vehementer [strongly], vehemens, etc. And valde is a contraction of valide, etc. So that in modern languages by saying fortemente for valde one preserves the etymology of this word, etc. (23 Oct. 1823.)
To what I have said elsewhere (p. 3071) about dompter from domitare [to tame], add promtus and promptus, promsi and prompsi, [3762] promtum and promptum, demsi and dempsi, demtum and demptum, temptare for tentare (see Forcellini and the Codex Ciceronianus De re publica along with Niebuhr’s Conspectus orthographiae),1 comsi and compsi, comptum and comtum, comptus and comtus, compte and comte, etc. etc. See Forcellini. The French also write domter and domtable, etc., and perhaps more frequently today. Richelet only has domter, Alberti only dompter. See Richelet under Compte, compter, etc., which was also written, as he says, as comter, comte, etc. Note however that compter, etc., comes from computare, so therefore the p is natural and not added as in dompter, etc. In fact today the French, who write Comte [Count] (from comes itis [companion]), comtat, etc., always write, as far as I am aware, compte from computus, compter, etc. (23 Oct. 1923).
On the subject of sylva [wood] from ὕλη [wood], see elsewhere [→Z 1276ff., 2311–12]. Sulla and Silla, Symmachus and in the Codex Ambrosianus of the Orations Summachus constantly.2 See Forcellini, etc. (23 Oct. 1823.)
Whoever is determined to believe that apto [to fit] and ἅπτω (on which see elsewhere [→Z 2136–41, 2277, 2784–86, 2887–88]), since they are materially identical, and properly have the same meaning, have nothing to do with each other in relation to their origin, etc., will have to suppose an absolute fortuitousness which will find few supporters, etc. (23 Oct. 1823.)
For p. 2657, margin. And if in Italy, which part they were written in3 (since we have so many and such different dialects), such as the regions where the pronunciation is influenced by the foreign, in border regions, in Piedmont (where it is perhaps probable that the [3763] Codex De republica as well as that of Fronto were written, etc.) in upper Lombardy and Venice, or generally in Lombardy or the Venice area. And if in the heart of Italy, and even in Rome, at what period they were written, such as in the various periods when there were more foreigners, and with greater influence, etc. And finally who they were written by, whether by Italians or foreigners, and Italians from which part of Italy, and whether they pronounced words well or badly, and whether their orthography was good or not, and whether they had lived among foreigners or not, etc. etc. (23 Oct. 1823.) See also p. 3754.
For p. 3692. It should be added that scivi scitum from scisco [to inquire], and its compounds (ascitum, conscitum, plebiscitum), etc., all had the long i. Now the desinence in ītum is entirely improper in third-conjugation verbs. (I leave aside the desinence in īvi, which is equally improper, but so too would be the desinence in ĭvi.) What evidence is this, if not that scitum grammatically does not come from scisco, but from scio [to know], of which, since it is a fourth-conjugation verb the desinence of the supine in ītum is distinctively proper and right? The same can be said of any other verb in sco which is formed from a fourth-conjugation verb, known or unknown: because if such a verb in sco has a supine, or if one is attributed to it, it is certainly in ītum, and therefore is certainly borrowed from its original verb, which, if it no longer exists, is shown by this to have existed, etc. Also see pp. 3707, end–3708, beginning. (23 Oct. 1823.)
[3764] Need for new or foreign words, when we need to deal with new or foreign disciplines. Impossibility and damage in changing terms received in a discipline which has been discovered, or mainly cultivated, or handed on to us, by foreigners, that is to substitute other terms for those which the foreigners who hand it on to us are accustomed to use in dealing with that discipline, even when it were easy for our language to find its own terms, new or old, to substitute for theirs, indeed when our language already had others (terms or words) with that same meaning, etc. See Speroni, “Dialogo della retorica,” in his Dialoghi, Venice 1596, p. 139, ten pages from the beginning, and 23 from the end.1 (23 Oct. 1823.)
Gladiatorial spectacles, so bloody, etc., belong to that delight of intense sensations, which I speak of in so many places [→Z 1953, 2017–18, 2759]. (23 Oct. 1823.) So too bull baiting, etc. etc.2
Disperser from dispergo–dispersus [to scatter]. (24 Oct. 1823.)
To the diminutive or frequentative Italian verbs which I have gathered elsewhere [→Z 1116–17, 1240–42], add as example those in olare, crepolare from crepare, screpolare [to crack], etc. (24 Oct. 1823.)
Quaero is, quaesitum and itus [to seek]. Why then from queror [to complain] do we get questus, which is a verb which differs in only one letter in writing, and differs not at all in pronunciation? And from quaesitum and quaesitus which still exist and are beyond dispute, [3765] and it would not be possible to argue otherwise, we have quaestus us [profit] and quaestor, etc. etc. Therefore the use of the contraction of supines which I presume in so many places elsewhere [→Z 1153–54, 2201–202, 2893–95] is evident; because since here the supine and the participle remain intact, the words then formed from them are, for the most part, contracted in the precisely the same way as other supines and participles, etc., which very often on the contrary are demonstrated by words derived from them or cognate to them, etc., which are not contracted. As the argument of the formation from quaesitum to quaestus is valid here, etc., so it must be valid in contrary cases, etc. (24 Oct. 1823.)
For p. 3557, beginning. The appearance of weakness proves gratifying and appealing especially to the strong, whether of the same or a different species (perhaps because of the inclination which nature has instilled, so to speak, in contrary things toward contrary things). Thus weakness in a woman proves to be more appealing to men than to other women, in a child more to adults than to other children. And the woman is more appealing to the man than to other women, also because of respect for weakness, etc. And it is more appealing to the man the stronger he is, not only for other reasons, but for this as well, that the appearance of weakness is more pleasing to him when it is in an object that is appealing for other reasons, etc. And for this reason too soldiers, and [3766] military nations are generally drawn more to women, or to τὰ παιδικά [boys], etc. (See Aristotle, Politics, 2, Florence 1576, p. 142.)1 What has been said about weakness can also be said about timidity. The appearance of timidity is pleasing in an object which is appealing for other reasons, when such weakness is not unbecoming. It is pleasing for instance in hares, in rabbits, etc. It is especially pleasing to the strong either in absolute terms or out of respect for such objects. It is pleasing to the most courageous, and this too can be referred back to what I said about soldiers. The sight of someone being afraid and having reason to be afraid, and being unable to defend himself, is an appealing thing, and it induces the strong and the courageous, whether of the same or a different species, to spare such objects, in circumstances where there is no other reason why the contrary should be true, such as the wolf in relation to the sheep, etc. Reasons independent of timidity and courage. And from this, at least partly, arises the fact that strong and courageous individuals and nations by nature are normally the most benign, and contrariwise it has been observed that the most weak and timid individuals and peoples are normally the most cruel against beings weaker than they are, against the weaker individuals among themselves, etc. And [3767] it is a constant and general proposition that timidity, cowardice, and weakness take pleasure in being accompanied by cruelty, by inclemency and pitilessness and harshness of behavior and actions, etc. (The fact that fear is naturally cruel, because it is supremely egoistic, and cowardice, etc., too, I have pointed out in various places [→Z 2206–208, 2387–89, 2630].) This can be observed not only in human beings, but also in other animals. And with great verisimilitude, if not also with truth, the lion is claimed to show generosity toward animals weaker and more timid than he is, etc., whenever nature, that is a natural enmity, or hunger, etc., does not drive him to oppress them, etc., or drives him to it sometimes, but not in that individual case, or where nature has not designed them especially as food for him, because in those circumstances it would be extremely difficult for him to abstain from them, or to abstain from them for any other reason than satiety. These observations are to be applied to those I have made about the natural compassionateness in the strong, and the natural mercilessness and harshness of the weak, etc., and vice versa those observations are to be applied to these (pp. 3271ff.). It is frequently claimed, and there are quite a few examples in histories, that women [3768] if they become powerful in any way, have generally been and are, inasmuch as they are cunning and wicked, to the same degree more cruel and less compassionate toward their enemies, or more so generally than men have been or are, or would have been or would be, all other things being equal. And it is a well-known fact that the most weak and cowardly Princes have always been the most cruel in proportion to the different qualities and spirit of the times in which they lived or live, and to the different circumstances in which respectively they have found themselves or find themselves, and according to the different epochs and vicissitudes of life of each of them, etc. (24 Oct. 1823.)
For p. 3616, end. Another observation confirming my opinion that the Iliad, even if it has to yield to other poems in some areas, this might be at particular points, but it is superior to them all in general and in its very structure and disposition and development, as well as in its invention (contrary to the normal judgment), is that in the Iliad interest increases by degrees, reaching its highest point at the end. Whereas in the Gerusalemme it [3769] is, we can say, always static; in the Aeneid it goes backward in absolute terms from book seven onward, and the same in the Odyssey: a supreme and fundamental error and defect and contrary to all art. In the Lusiads I could not at the moment say, nor in the Henriade, where however the interest cannot be static nor going backward nor increasing, since there is no interest whatsoever in it, at least for anyone except the French. On the subject of increasing interest you can see the Eulogy of Voltaire in the works of Frederick II, 1790, tome 7, p. 75.1
I have said in these remarks how necessary it is that the subject of epic poetry is national, and how damaging it would be if it were universal, etc. (unless in the way in which Tasso does it). But on the other hand the fact that the subject is national limits in itself the interest and great effect of the poem to a single nation. There is only one way to avoid this serious drawback (which means that future generations, after so many political changes caused by the passage of time, which destroys and changes nations, or their names, which are one and the same thing, [3770] and their national character, etc., no longer consider those ancient generations as their fellow countrymen, nor could they, and it also means that in the fullness of time, inevitably, there is no nation to which that poem is national), and that is to direct the imagination of readers in a way that persuades them that they are the compatriots and contemporaries of the characters of the poet, and transports them into that nation and those times, etc. An illusion analogous to that which playwrights also have to achieve, etc. Now among all the epic poets who has best achieved it is Homer in the Iliad, and among historians Livy. It is true that this is due in the main to all those reasons outlined by me elsewhere [→Z 3125ff.], which create a situation in which all the civilized nations of all times have been and are as if compatriots and contemporaries of the Trojans, ancient Greeks, ancient Romans, and ancient Jews. In fact after the Iliad, the epic poem which best achieves this universal illusion, is certainly the Aeneid, because of its Trojan and Roman subject. But it is also true that, particularly in relation to the Trojans, the reasons given can be reduced to the Iliad alone (and to the Aeneid), [3771] where the illusion which it achieves, does not come from causes which are extrinsic to it, indeed the Iliad is all the more marvelous in that it alone, or principally (that is aided by the Aeneid, etc.), has been capable and is capable of making all civilized men of every nation and time compatriots and contemporaries of the Trojans. It obtains this effect through the reminiscences of childhood, etc., which accompany
it because we are acquainted with the Iliad right from our childhood, or with the facts narrated and invented by it, and the mythology contained within it, etc., and the first notions we acquire of mythology, are closely connected to and in large part made up of the inventions of Homer, etc. etc. But all this would not be or have been the case, if the Iliad had not always been so celebrated. Nor would it have been so celebrated without possessing the highest merit. It is true that this does not have anything particular to do with its development, etc. etc. (25 Oct. 1823.)
For p. 3729, margin. In our ancient peoples there can certainly be found words or meanings, etc., proper to known Latin which we can in no way use today, but which are used by and familiar to the Spanish. Which [3772] appears to prove that they formed part of the vulgar language which preceded both languages, that is, Vulgar Latin, etc., unless we want to presume that ancient Italian transmitted them to Spanish, or ancient Spanish to ancient Italian, neither of which cases is very likely. (25 Oct. 1823.)
For p. 3488, margin. In a sixteenth-century Spanish writer, though one of little authority, I find falsar la paz1 meaning to break a peace underhandedly, or violate the conditions of the peace, to renege on treaties, etc. For that matter falsare in these senses is almost a continuative of fallere. Falsar la fede in Speroni’s example2 is the same as fallire, that is fallere, la promessa [to go back on a promise] in the other example. And indeed in itself, falsare in the meanings mentioned has a certain sense of to deceive, that is fallere, though perhaps it might be better to give it the meaning of mancare [to fall short, to renege on]. But in this sense it is impossible to see how fallire or falsare or faltar, etc., can be active, etc. etc. (25 Oct. 1823.) Falsare in other senses (as with falsatus and falsatio in Forcellini) is in fact from falsus part of fallere but taken in the sense of an adjective, while in the meanings mentioned falsare would come from falsus in the sense of a participle, etc. (25 Oct. 1823.)