Lysimachus' Dog & Nisaean Horses
Loosestrife Thoughts I
This essay is approximately 10,000 words. I thought perhaps it may be more desireable to dowload it and read in another form. Lysimachia.pdf (620.9K)
Lysimachia punctata |
Lysimachia clethroides |
Gardens are a place of infinite wonder and discovery,1 or can be if you let them. It is all a matter of perspective. Mine is (admittedly) a little twisted, but how can I be blamed? Really? Your perspective might be twisted too, if your days were like mine. After all, I've been spending my time hunting lions and conquering the world with Alexander the Great.
In other words, today my thoughts are occupied with several species of Lysimachia in my nascent gardens. One came to me by chance. The other I sought in error.
Such are the fortunes of any given day.
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A week or so ago, I began the process of "looking about" Lysimachia.2 As usual, I have gone astray. And so it seems only appropriate to piecemeal the tale. While what follows is but a tangent or two, they are, in my estimation, magnificent diversions. I hope you will agree.
Gooseneck Loosestrife | Yellow Loosestrife | Neat & Tidy Stories | Lysimachian Confusion | Lysimachus | The Empire of Alexander | Alexander, Lysimachus and Lions | Lysimachus and the Wars of the Diadochi | A Guru and His Horse | A King and His Dog | Sources | Notes
Phylolacca americana
Flickr Photo Originally Uploaded 12 June 2007
By The County Clerk
When I visited the Linnæus Garden in Uppsala, Sweden, I was alone. Not another soul was in sight.3 I wandered and pondered. I opened gates that probably shouldn't have been opened.4 I even pulled some weeds. It was a spectacular thing.
I came across a specimen with an interesting raceme: Phylolacca Americana (American Pokeweed).5 I photographed the plant and made a note to investigate it further. "Maybe this is something I can grow in Digitalistan?"
I made my note, put it my little folder and, like most of the notes I make to myself, I promptly forgot all about it.
The next thing I know it is several weeks later in the middle of the night in Illinois. I'm doing an insomnious hail-Mary-eBay-search for windows (I still can't believe the bid). No luck. So I click over to "plants, seeds and bulbs" and happen upon an image of Lysimachia clethroides... Gooseneck Loosestrife.
gooseneck loosestrife / zwanehalswederik
Flickr Photo Originally Uploaded 11 July 2007
By friedkampes
Something clicked. I suddenly remembered my time in the Linnæus Garden and the plant I wanted. Not bothering to check my notes, I thought they were the same. BUY. They were cheap. I got a bunch.
In no time, they arrived. I opened all my notes (I keep track of such things) and discovered that I had the wrong plant. (I do this kind of thing all the time.)
In the meantime, I'd seen images of a sea of this Gooseneck beauty - referred to as a "drift" - growing wild Outside Clyde, North Carolina (Tree Huggers Beware. Timber!).
I decided to give it a go. But my first reaction was: Lysimachia huh? That's a name that didn't seem to indicate anything in my vernacular. And this "loosestrife" business?? I decided to out this "on my list" of mysteries - a list that always grows and never shrinks, no matter what I do.
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Unknown (at the time) Plant
Yellow Loosestrife (Lysimachia punctata)
Flickr Photo Originally Uploaded 2 June 2007
By The County Clerk
The afternoon before I left for Sweden, a down-the-street neighbor was vivisecting her garden. Living chunks were cast aside everywhere. "This is just too much... everything has grown!" Yes. It happens. Thinning on a grand scale.
I had helped wheelbarrow a few things for the lady. She uttered those dangerous words: "You want some of these? Take 'em!"
Uh oh.
"What are they?"
"You and your names... you understand that most people don't CARE about such things. I have no idea what they are. They are yellow. I call 'em "summer-yellows.""
Rather than taking the "most people" bait,6 I took a pile. (I should note that these weren't dug out. They were ripped out.)
I had no place for 'em so I immediately potted them in about 40 one-gallon containers. Thankfully I'd just bought a bunch of potting soil for yet another project I'd yet to "get to."
I stuck these pots on every horizontal surface I could find. Folding tables. Window sills. Wheelbarrows. This was no small job. I worked well into the night. Water. Food. Snap some photos. Pray for rain in the coming two weeks. Off to the airport. Forgot all about them.
When I came home I was somewhat surprised to find my backyard filled with shocked - transplanted "mystery plants." A large percentage (but not half) didn't make it. The survivors looked like hell. Shocked.
I watered them and tossed one in my truck. The next day I swung by a local nursery to try and identify the plant.
Lysimachia punctata. Circle flower. Yellow Loosestrife.
Hmmmnn... that's two.
Two Loosestrifes. Two Lysimachias.
I began to suspect that the blind goddess Fortuna was whispering in my ear. I decided to look into the story immediately.
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Delphinium elatum 'Summer Skies'
Flickr Photo Originally Uploaded 30 July 2007
By The County Clerk
Some of these botanic tales that knock upon my door are quite neat and tidy. They are, to me, charming7 in that way. Take for example, the delphinium: Dioscorides saw dolphins.
Delphinium = Delphis = Dolphins
I've written about this before: Searching for Dolphins amongst Rhinos. I couldn't see the dolphins. I wanted to see what Dioscorides saw. Thankfully, the dolphins were pointed out to me with a remarkable photo (see Dioscorides and the Microbial Lab). Life can be delightful.
But some tales are not so tidy.
And some are a mess.
I'm afraid that the tale of Lysimachia falls into the later categories. What I began as few pages of observations has decomposed. The more I read, the less sense any of it makes. The story of Lysimachia is a story riddled with mistranslation, poor history and wives-tales. But, for all of that, it is interesting. Forevermore, I will look at the Loosestrife(s) in my garden and recall a variety of stories and think about our human history.
It is good.
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Lysimachia punctata (spotted loosestrife)
Flickr Photo Originally Uploaded 28 December 2006
By le_sloth
I began where I always begin, with a source that is invariably incorrect but usually revealing enough to get me going: The Dave's Garden "Botanary". I was not disappointed.
By this I do not mean that the Botanary definition added any clarity. It did not. It is, as usual, completely bogus. But it is interesting in it's errors. In this case (after some considerable "looking about") I have come to believe that almost NONE of this is true.
The Botanary definition for Lysimachia is: "ly-si-MAK-ee-uh - Named for King Lysimachus, who used the plant to calm his oxen (which is also where the common name Loosestrife comes from)."
To this my reaction is simple:
Bah! Phooey!
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At first glance, this looked so simple... so easy... so nicely done.
It appeared that the plant (genus) was named for Lysimachus, who was soldier with Alexander the Great (356 BC - 323 BC). Upon Alexander's death, Lysimachus wound up with a good part of the empire... and became a King. King Lysimachus.
I wanted to then convey (as so many have so blindly done before me) that old Lysimachus once encountered a monstrous leopard (or lion, or bull, or ox, or more generally "beast") while out with a group of his men, at which point he waved a branch of some kind of herb at the beast, calming it, removing any threat.
From here we could fast-forward almost 2000 years. In 1597 John Gerard published a book about plants "The Herbal."8 In it, Gerard notes that this particular plant is often tied to the yokes of oxen... to calm them down. The words he used were akin to "remove strife" - "appeasing the strife & unrulinesse which falleth out among oxen at the plough."iii This explains the Loosestrife name. Lose Strife.
Then, it would have been delightful to jump ahead a couple of hundred years more... to the great Swede, Linnæus. I imagined him, as I often do, assigning names to plants. I think of him at a large table before a roaring Swedish fire.9 His table is covered with specimens. He's looking at birds and plants and thinking about the history of the world. Just then he gets to the pile of Loosestrife. He checks "The Herbal" (of course he would). He thinks about the oxen. And then, from his classical education, he recalls old Lysimachus and the leopard (or lion, or bull, or ox, or beast). Aha! Losing Strife! Lysimachia!
That's a nice story.
That's exactly the kind of thing that Linnæus did all the time. Linnæus was, in my mind, a poet.
The problem lies in the fact that I don't believe much of the above is true.
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Bust of Lysimachus
Flickr Photo Originally Uploaded 1 September 2006
By h_savill
Lysimachus was "a Macedonian officer and "successor" (diadochus) of Alexander the Great, later a king (306 BCE) in Thrace and Asia Minor." iv
So... I started with Lysimachus. An interesting character.
After spending several hours reading about him (some of it fascinating), I found all sorts of connections to modern ideas. Lysimachus marched with Alexander to the ends of the earth and back. Upon the death of Alexander, Lysimachus set about some serious conquests of his own. One of his allies (for a time) was Pyrrhus of Epirus, from whose actions we get the interesting and always relevant notion of a Pyrrhic victory. The supposed botanical adaptation was not the first such adaptation of his name, Lysimachus built a town called Lysimachia in what is now European Turkey (on the Gallipoli peninsula).
But I could find no mention of plants. I could find no incidence calming anything or anyone with any kind of herb. Plenty of killing. No calming. Nor I could find oxen or bulls.
But I did find lions, and a four-headed leopard of the apocalypse! Yowza! But I'm getting ahead of myself.10
One can't talk about Lysimachus without some thoughts on Alexander.
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The "standard" image of Alexander
"Alexander fighting Persian king Darius III.
From Alexander Mosaic,
from Pompeii, Naples, Museo Archeologico Nazionale."
It is often written that Alexander "conquered the world." He didn't. There were vast parts of the world he never saw. But "by the time of his death, he had conquered most of the world known to the ancient Greeks."vi And he did it in just 13 years. To call him a "king" is to understate. He was "King of Macedon, Hegemon of the Hellenic League, Shah of Persia, Pharaoh of Egypt."
Map of the Known World and Alexander's Empire
The Roman Republic was young. Hannibal wouldn't cross the Alps with elephants to terrorize Italians for another century or more. The Carthaginians were just as likely to pretend at empire as the Romans. But that was all several centuries in the future. The Alexandrian empire was, indisputably, the most powerful in the western world at the time. For all practical purposes, the early Roman Republic wanted no quarrel with Alexander. No one did. It was bad news when Alexander showed up on your frontier.
Alexander was a Macedonian. Greek, but different from other ancient Greeks. For example, the ancient Macedonians were (eventually) admitted in the Ancient Olympic Games, but their culture was distinct. And these Macedonian Greeks were tough.
These guys were supreme bad-asses, really tough guys. And Macedonians who conquered with Alexander were not enlightened statesmen, spreading Greek democracy. They were hard, toughened soldiers bent on domination and tyranny. And they succeeded.
In fact, Alexander was not the kind of guy you'd want to have over to dinner. The evening would be all about him and at the end, when he was good and drunk, he might kill you... or worse.
He was not a good guy to be around.11
There is a gruesome story from Justinian (Marcus Junianus Justinus) about Alexander and the historian Callisthenes of Olynthus (Aristotle's great nephew). It seems Callisthenes was hired to be Alexander's biographer as the great youth marched across the world. Alexander was an egomaniac and tyrant. In short order he adopted the Persian practice of proskynesis - requiring people to completely prostrate themselves before him. These were Greeks! Greeks didn't do such things! This was the behavior of their enemies for half a millennia! The Persians! Callisthenes made the error in judgment of pointing this out. Justinian writes:
"For when Alexander the Great, in his anger, had pretended that Callisthenes the philosopher, for his opposition to the Persian mode of doing obeisance, was concerned in a plot that had been formed against him, and, by cruelly mangling all his limbs, and cutting off his ears, nose, and lips, had rendered him a shocking and miserable spectacle, and had had him carried about, also, shut up in a cage with a dog, for a terror to others, Lysimachus, who was accustomed to listen to Callisthenes, and to receive precepts of virtue from him, took pity on so great a man, undergoing punishment, not for any crime, but for freedom of speech,12 and furnished him with poison to relieve him from his misery."vii
It is probably true that Callisthenes was critical of the extreme proskynesis. What happened next is unclear. He may or may not have been tortured. And he may or may not have been tortured in this way.
It is ironic that such men were a primary cause of the spread of Western ideas. History is full of such ironies.
These were the kind of guys who, in their downtime, hunted Gaetulian (Asian) Lions with short spears and very short swords... for fun. Lysimachus was one of these.
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Alexander, Lysimachus and Lions
Alexander and Craterus in a lion hunt, mosaic in Pella
It seems that Alexander the Great loved to hunt lions.
"At least two separate occasions of lion hunts are attested in our sources: the Sidonian lion hunt (in Phoenicia, 332 BC) and the lion hunt in Basista (a.k.a. Bazaira, Sogdiana, in 328/327 BC). Both events indeed match with periods in which parts of the army must have been relatively inactive: the long siege of Tyre, in between the battles of Issus and Gaugamela, and at the advent of the Indian campaign after subjugation of Central Asia." viii
Asian Lion
Flickr Photo Originally Uploaded 15 July 2007
By Sh0rty
It is also clear that Lysimachus was the greatest (bravest, most successful, most legendary) lion hunter of his time. There are many stories about Lysimachus and lions. These two hunts are only the beginning.
"The Sidonian lion hunt is presumably represented in the well-known mosaic (found in Pella) showing Craterus and Alexander fighting a lion. The Sidonian hunt was originally commemorated by bronze sculptures made by Lysippus and Leochares (Plutarch Alex. 40; also Heckel, The Marshals of Alexander's Empire, 1992: p. 268-271). Alexander is said to have speared a great lion, so that an envoy from Sparta remarked the hunt had represented a battle between kings. Alexander's bodyguard Lysimachus also killed a lion of extraordinary size, but not before "his left shoulder had been lacerated right down to the bone" (Curtius, 4.14-17)." ix
In this case, getting mauled helped his reputation. These were Macedonians!
"In Basista, a large enclosed Persian game reserve, another unusually great lion charged Alexander. Lysimachus rushed forward to help his king out, but Alexander pushed his bodyguard aside, stating that he was quite capable of single-handedly killing the beast.13 Alexander subtly reminded Lysimachus of his Sidonian adventure - such a wicked sense of humor (Curtius, 4.16). Alexander then killed the animal in one stroke." x
It is no wonder that the world feared Alexander. He and his men were cruel, tough and strong. Legends of Alexander's cruelty spread. Some were certainly true. Some were not. Some... we'll never know.
There was a story, circulated around Rome at the time, which held that Alexander locked his friend and bodyguard (Lysimachus) in a cage with a lion. Just for fun. That story probably isn't true. You see, Alexander was feared. This was probably a tale told by Romans to vilify the Greeks and "prop up" Roman righteousness.14 But there is another, closely related tale, that probably has some truth in it. Apparently, an unarmed Lysimachus (at some point, somehow) came face to face with a charging lion. So... what did this tough Macedonian do?
"Lysimachus wrapped his shirt about his arm and thrust it into the lion's mouth and taking hold of his tongue killed the lion." xv
Whoa. This was a ferocious man (though there is some speculation that Gaetulian Lions might have had some sort of weakness for this kind of thing).16
I mention the lions because I thought perhaps lions might have something to do with Loosestrife. I thought that perhaps Lysimachus might have grabbed the herb in some lion adventure. Maybe the tale wasn't about oxen or bulls at all, but lions. No such luck.
It is safe to say that when Lysimachus saw a lion, he didn't calm it. He killed it.
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Lysimachus and the Wars of the Diadochi (322-301 BC)
Ortaköy
Flickr Photo Originally Uploaded 10 February 2007
By Atilla1000
Ortaköy is a district
of modern day Istanbul. But it wasn't always so. In 309 BCE, before the mosques and
before the Romans, Lysimachus built a city here. It was to be his capital. Lysimachia.
"When Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept for there were no more worlds to conquer."17 But when he died, his empire destroyed itself. Upon the death of Alexander there was no heir. His wife was pregnant and the gender of the child was, of course, unknown. The whole of the Alexandrian world was divided in the Partition of Babylon. The empire was carved up. That which was so remarkable to assemble, was disassembled... in some cases by drawing lots! (That's how Ptolemy - who founded the Ptolemaic dynasty of which Cleopatra was a part - ended up with Egypt.)
Lysimachus was one of these.
The empire was divided amongst many "successors" or Diadochi. The list is long. Unbelievably so. But these were bellicose young men of war. They were almost immediately fighting again... with each other. In no time there were only four of the strongest left: Lysimachus, Cassander, Ptolomy, and Seleucus. They proclaimed themselves kings, built some cities and then went back to war with each other.
Map of the Known World shortly after the Death of Alexander (showing Lysimachus' Kingdom) - The diadochen.
The men who conquered the world under Alexander, destroyed it when left to their own ends. The Wars of the Diadochi lasted almost 40 years (if one considers the last of the wars between Lysimachus and Seleucus) as these young men grew old. At the Battle of Corupedium, two old men - Seleucus and Lysimachus - met in the mêlée for hand-to-hand combat. Seleucus slew the aged lion killer, turning the tide of battle and securing for himself all of Alexander's empire except Ptolemy's Egypt. Lysimachus was 75 years old. His entire life had been spent at war.
The tale is so epic and tragic that when I allow myself to think about it, the warmth evaporates from the sun. Can you see those two old men - old friends and colleagues who had conquered the world together - clad in iron, hacking at one another? It is a dramatic climax of lives spent laying waste to the known world.
Seleucus' victory didn't last long. He began his victorious march to Lysimachus' capital, Lysimachia. But he was murdered before he could get there... by Ptolemy's eldest son, Ptolemy Keraunos, who was in turn killed almost immediately as the region was overrun by barbarians from the north. The "Greek" armies had destroyed themselves. For all intents and purposes, the age of Greece had passed. It was just a matter of time before the Romans would come clean up the mess.
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The story of Lysimachus is a story of war and conquest. Without question he was a substantial man of his time. If adventure is the measure of a life, Lysimachus led a grand one. And if the measure is more intellectual, he was perhaps a success as well... at least in comparison with his peers.
More than any of his circle, he was unafraid to learn new ideas and philosophies. He was cruel to be sure - perhaps no more so than any in his position, but certainly no less so. But he was also a thinker.
"This Macedonian nimrod18 [Lysimachus] was also noted as the particular disciple of Calanus, the Indian guru19, who joined the army at Taxila when Alexander was winning friends and allies before marching against Porus.20 Calanus was one of the local philosophers who were known for both great physical fortitude and the practice of total nudity. Their leader, called Dandamis by the Europeans, was far from impressed by world conquerors who epitomised material might but held no sway over a spiritual universe he had spent his life contemplating. Calanus had greater curiosity and having spent the prescribed number of years in quiet study he attached himself to the strangers from the west. In periods of idleness, when the army was encamped or in winter quarters, this eastern teacher held forth to those assembled Europeans whose inclination led them to philosophical discourse."xix
Lysimachus was an avid pupil. Imagine that. Consider the rich, powerful, conquering lion hunter and the naked, ascetic guru. It is anachronistic. So it was with Lysimachus.
In 325 BCE (roughly 2 years before Alexander's death) the Macedonian Army withdrew from an unsuccessful Indian war. The Army was forced to march through the deadly Makran - a high desert. The withdrawal was disastrous. Exactly how disastrous? No one can say for certain. Some accounts say that three quarters of Alexander's forces perished in the Makran. Other accounts place the numbers a little lower. The point is simply that the Makran took a monstrous toll. There is an interesting exploration of the subject at Alexander and the Makran Desert. Also, it seems that a Tsunami may have been involved in the catastrophe.
But Lysimachus wasn't there.
"...Lysimachus was badly wounded at Alexander's side in the most ferocious fighting. The details of the injury go unrecorded but it was clearly debilitating and kept him out for the rest of the war. As an invalid he was sent back with Craterus and the rest of the wounded and spared the experience of the Makran desert that might have seen the end of him, like so many others."xx
Lysimachus missed the ordeal. Calanus, the naked guru and Lysimachus' teacher, was not so fortunate.
"Calanus had got through the desert march of Makran when men half his age had died of exhaustion but it had irreparably damaged his health. His condition became debilitating by the time the army was almost in sight of Susa and he decided to die rather than drag out his days as an invalid and burden on his friends. He persuaded Alexander to allow him to die in the traditional manner of his people. A great funeral pyre was constructed in front of the army and court and he proceeded to mount the structure to be burnt alive in the flames. As he did so, bidding goodbye to his intimates, he bequeathed his richest possession, a fine Nesaean horse, to Lysimachus."xxi
I am struck by two things about this revelation:
- First, it is undeniable that a strong bond must have existed between Calanus and Lysimachus. Consider the exhausted cleric about to fall into fire, thinking of his friend. It is touching in a way I would not expect. And clearly, Calanus knew that Lysimachus would take good care of the fine creature.
- Second, Calanus (the ascetic) mounted a Nisaean horse? These were the horses of the richest, most powerful men in the world. It boggles the mind. I can't imagine such a thing. Nisaean horses were the scared mounts of Persian kings. Think of Xerxes and Darius. Alexander no doubt mounted a Nisaean. And now I find, history would tell us of the naked ascetic Calanus (of course, Lysimachus eneded up with).
Anxious ascetic
Flickr Photo Originally Uploaded 6 September 2006
By Java Cafe
The Nisaean horses are gone now, but they live on in other magnificent breeds... for example, the mustangs of the American west. (The Earliest Ancestors of the Mustangs - Gilbert Jones)
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So I look at my plants in my garden and wonder about Lysimachus. Many anecdotes about him survive, some of them quite intimate. Had he picked up a plant and calmed a beast, it would have been noteworthy. The tale almost certainly would have survived. He was of a kind that did not do such things. He killed beasts... or was killed by them. He did not wave herbs at death.
I do not see King Lysimachus in my loosestrife. It must have been another of that name. But I think about him. I wonder what kind of person he must have been to have enjoyed the regard of Calanus AND Alexander. But then I read of how his body was discovered in the sea of death that is a battlefield.
It seems that the old warrior Lysimachus was particularly close with his dog. And it was this dog who sat with his lifeless body on the fields of Corupedium, marking the place until people came to find their late king. A funeral pyre was built beneath the corpse of Lysimachus and set ablaze. This was apparently too much for his dog. By all accounts this loyal dog jumped into the fire to follow Lysimachus to the next wars.
The tale of Lysimachus is an interesting tale of a complex man in changing times. There is much to think about when he comes to mind. Life. Adventure. Changing fortunes. Power. The nature of mankind. Horses. And dogs.
Oh these dogs... these creatures who share our lives... I look at my dogs and they look back at me.
King Lysimachus loved his dog and his dog loved him.
In the end, that’s really all I need to know .
i SOURCE: Reading, 23-2 Jules Janick. 1987 Proc. Second National Herb Growing and Marketing Conference, Purdue Research foundation - Back to Text
iii SOURCE: Paghat the Ratgirl's Garden: Variegated Yellow Loosestrife & Alexander the Great - Back to Text
iv SOURCE: Wikipedia: Lysimachus - Back to Text
v SOURCE: Wikipedia: Apocalyptic Visions in Daniel - Back to Text
vi SOURCE: Wikipedia: Alexander the Great - Back to Text
vii SOURCE: from Marcus Junianus Justinus' Epitome of the Philippic History of Pompeius Trogus. translated, with notes, by the Rev. John Selby Watson. - Back to Text
viii SOURCE: Alexander the Great and Lions - Back to Text
ix SOURCE: Alexander the Great and Lions - Back to Text
x SOURCE: Alexander the Great and Lions - Back to Text
xi SOURCE: Wikipedia: Structural History of the Roman Military: Proletariatisation of the infantry (217 BC – 107 BC ) - Back to Text
xii SOURCE: Wikipedia: Pyrrhus of Epirus - Back to Text
xiv SOURCE: Wikipedia: Pyrrhus of Epirus - Back to Text
xv SOURCE: The Beatitudes by Thomas Watson "An exposition of Matthew 5:1-12" PERSECUTION - Back to Text
xvii SOURCE: Wikipedia: Jainism entry - Back to Text
xviii SOURCE: Wikipedia: Jainism entry - Back to Text
xxii SOURCE: Wikipedia: Historical Accuracy: Belshazzar - Back to Text
1 Of course, my "wonder and discovery" are aided in large quantities by a very substantial lack of knowledge on my part... and a very vague incomprehension of the world around me. I regularly (frequently, hourly) come across things that I find to be "new" and "exciting" only to realize that I am the very last person in the world to have made the discovery.
In my last post (Hydrangea Thoughts I), I "discovered" an almost 300-year-old keyboard suite, composed by Händel, performed by Keith Jarrett and enjoyed by millions before me. I "discovered" it on my own shelves. In short, my "discoveries" are typically not important.
But I don't care.
I consider myself to be a bit like Christopher Columbus, except that instead of crossing the "ocean sea" to an unknown world, my voyages would be more comparable to crossing Olmstead's Central Park to marvel at the "new" discoveries on Central Park West. (You wouldn't believe what's over there!) Or maybe, more appropriately, it is the "crossing" of my lawn to "discover" a book in the mail. "Where the hell did THIS come from?"
It is safe to assume that, for me, "new" and "exciting" things are probably neither.
But everything is relative.
For the native peoples of Guanahani, Columbus' arrival at "San Salvador" was not a discovery of a new world but a discovery of the old. Some chieftain no doubt came home on that evening to tell his wife, "You'll never believe what I ran across today... three ships filled with the strangest men you'll ever see!"
OK. Maybe I'm not like Columbus at all. Maybe I'm more like that Lucayan chieftain on the Bahamas. And of course, he ended up a slave on Hispaniola. His people were exterminated.
Food for thought. - Back to Text
2 I have taken to the idea of "looking about myself" (and other things too). The idea has been stolen from Herbert Pocket, who was an invention of Charles Dickens in Great Expectations. I spend a good part of my days now just "looking about me." I recommend it as a way to spend one's time.
It has been mentioned here, perhaps, that I am working my way through Dickens late in life, catching up upon what I should already know. It is difficult to express the joy this particular book gave me at this time in my journey. I think of it often. And I laugh.
Charles Dickens
If it has been a while for you, please allow me to refresh your memory. In Chapter 20, the protagonist of the tale, Pip, has a candid conversation with his fast friend Herbert (with whom many years earlier he had boxed). These are two young men at the gates of adulthood, peering through it together. Pip is trying to figure out what Herbert does all day. What is his work? What are his prospects? What is it that young gentlemen... uh... do? Herbert has a spectacular answer.
Unless I live past 80, I am playing the back nine holes of my life now. I find it wonderful to think of the various ideas I held when I was younger. Now older, the world looks completely different. It is funny.
Pip narrates:
I asked him, in the course of conversation, what he was? He replied, "A capitalist - an Insurer of Ships." I suppose he saw me glancing about the room in search of some tokens of Shipping, or capital, for he added, "In the City."
I had grand ideas of the wealth and importance of Insurers of Ships in the City, and I began to think with awe, of having laid a young Insurer on his back, blackened his enterprising eye, and cut his responsible head open. But, again, there came upon me, for my relief, that odd impression that Herbert Pocket would never be very successful or rich.
"I shall not rest satisfied with merely employing my capital in insuring ships. I shall buy up some good Life Assurance shares, and cut into the Direction. I shall also do a little in the mining way. None of these things will interfere with my chartering a few thousand tons on my own account. I think I shall trade," said he, leaning back in his chair, "to the East Indies, for silks, shawls, spices, dyes, drugs, and precious woods. It's an interesting trade."
"And the profits are large?" said I.
"Tremendous!" said he.
I wavered again, and began to think here were greater expectations than my own.
"I think I shall trade, also," said he, putting his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets, "to the West Indies, for sugar, tobacco, and rum. Also to Ceylon, specially for elephants' tusks."
"You will want a good many ships," said I.
"A perfect fleet," said he.
Quite overpowered by the magnificence of these transactions, I asked him where the ships he insured mostly traded to at present?
"I haven't begun insuring yet," he replied. "I am looking about me."
Somehow, that pursuit seemed more in keeping with Barnard's Inn. I said (in a tone of conviction), "Ah-h!"
"Yes. I am in a counting-house, and looking about me."
"Is a counting-house profitable?" I asked.
"To - do you mean to the young fellow who's in it?" he asked, in reply.
"Yes; to you."
"Why, n-no: not to me." He said this with the air of one carefully reckoning up and striking a balance. "Not directly profitable. That is, it doesn't pay me anything, and I have to - keep myself."
This certainly had not a profitable appearance, and I shook my head as if I would imply that it would be difficult to lay by much accumulative capital from such a source of income.
"But the thing is," said Herbert Pocket, "that you look about you. That's the grand thing. You are in a counting-house, you know, and you look about you."
It struck me as a singular implication that you couldn't be out of a counting-house, you know, and look about you; but I silently deferred to his experience.
"Then the time comes," said Herbert, "when you see your opening. And you go in, and you swoop upon it and you make your capital, and then there you are! When you have once made your capital, you have nothing to do but employ it."
Ahhh! That's it, is it? And it is, apparently, very simple. I think I never did enough of this looking about. I am looking about myself now. - Back to Text
3 While it is true that not another soul was in sight while I walked Linnæus' gardens, I must confess that numerous jolly souls were in sound. Uppsala is a college town. And if this simple fact were not enough, I visited in early June. In my experience, Sweden in early June is a land set aside for drinking, laughing and love.21 And Uppsala is all that plus more. One would have to be a particularly cruel hearted beast to walk the streets of Uppsala without a smile.
And the days are long.
It was my habit to wander about at around midnight (dusk). The cafés were full. Live music was everywhere. Beer was plentiful. For reasons known and unknown to me, I did not interject myself into the center of any of those scenes but instead habituated the peripheries. I would sit on the bank of the River Fyrisån... next to the café. I would dine at small table on the patio. I was a voyeur... an invisible middle-aged man in a town overflowing with youth. It seemed appropriate to simply watch rather than dilute the magic with my own chemistry. I was looking about me.
And so I found myself alone in Linnæus' garden.
Of course, Linnæus didn't create the gardens. The gardens were half-a-century mature when Linnæus was born. It was Olaus Rudbeck (the Elder) who established the magical place in 1655. It is truly Rudbeck's garden.
There is a bronze plaque on the wall commemorating this fact... just next to the sign that reads "Linnaeus Garden."
Olaus Rudbeck's Garden
Flickr Photo Originally Uploaded 12 June 2007
By The County Clerk
Horti Botanici Primus Inventor... indeed.
I've written about Rudbeck before (A Tale of Two Susans - I). It is for him (and his son of the same name) that the Black-Eyed Susan genus is named: Rudbeckia hirta.
But Linnæus lived in Rudbeck's gardens. Linnæus restored them and made them great.
The 350-year-old gardens are hemmed-in today. Apartment blocks and condominiums surround the parterres. Being summer in Sweden, windows are open. As I walked the gardens I heard numerous afternoon parties in progress. There was a constant melody of rooms-full of conversation punctuated by bouts of loud and strong laughter. I could see no one. But I was in the center of festivities with plenty of elbowroom. Hours. Alone yet not. My herd was nearby.
All in all it was a highly pleasant experience. - Back to Text
4 Part of the garden (mostly behind the Hybernaculum) was clearly off-limits. Wheelbarrows. Propagation benches. Many small plants, too young and uncertain to put in the public spaces. Potting soil. Mulch. Hoses. You know, stuff that every garden has. I was happy to see it.
I can tell you that I have pushed my hands into the potting soil pile at the Linnæus Gardens. I have restacked little pots. I've messed around with the hoses.
Nice.
But this was Sweden. The signs were in Swedish. (Of course, they were pretty clear.) I figured that, if caught, I'd just be the dumb American. No harm no foul. - Back to Text
5 Interestingly, the fruit of "Poke Weed" is called "Poke Berries." I like that and I'm not sure why. I would suppose that a pie made from these berries would be a "Poke Pie." Is there such a thing? - Back to Text
6 I will confess a personal thing. I have no room in my world (imagined or otherwise) for the bankrupt "most people" device or for those who employ it. This is a flaw in my character. But the flaw exists, and like a deep scar on a walnut shotgun stock from one careless moment with the dogs, there is little to be done about it without discarding the whole. It is a flaw to the core of my value.
I have no tolerance for the "most people" abdication of soul... and my reaction (if I am honest) is to discount the employer of such a tool. When someone throws the "most people" excuse at me as reason to do (know, think) or not to do (know, think) anything, I begin to erase them from my consciousness. Cruel. And I am apparently that... or at least very cold... or so I am told.
Why does this "most people" device provoke such drastic reactions? Two reasons.
- First, assuming I'm even willing to "play ball" with the "most people" concept, I reject the notion that "most adherents" equals "superior policy." I will not buy it. And who the hell wants to be "most people" anyway? Is "most people" an aspirational concept? If so, why? In Walden, in the very first paragraphs, Hank Thoreau wrote:
"The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation. From the desperate city you go into the desperate country, and have to console yourself with the bravery of minks and muskrats. A stereotyped but unconscious despair is concealed even under what are called the games and amusements of mankind."
- But I disagree with Thoreau. (Which is not hard to do... if one reads long enough it is clear that Thoreau disagrees with Thoreau on almost everything.) As poetic as it is, I don't recognize the concept of "most people." In my 40 years, I've found our kind to be diverse and interesting; some in ways pleasant to me; others unpleasant; all different. When I forget this, I am reminded. There are no "most people." I've little interest in dealing with those who cannot see that the world is populated with odd and interesting people striving to lead individual lives. Some fail (for sure). Some do not. But there is no such thing as "most people."
Whew... that was a bit of a tangent, no? This might be why most people tire of me. - Back to Text
7 "Charming." Pleasing. Delightful. Engaging. Do people even use the word "charming" anymore? More to the point, is it acceptable usage for divorced American heterosexual males who like to envision a future where they might actually get laid again? I don't know. My dad doesn't say "charming." He's my role model. I need to think about this. Female insight would be appreciated. - Back to Text
8 John Gerard's "The Herbal" is "the best known botanical work published in English. It has remained popular for over 400 years for its amalgamation of horticultural lore, its collection of medical "virtues" of plants, and, not least, its graceful and delightful English prose. It is still useful and still a delight."i
Amazon has a Deluxe Clothbound Edition (over $150 or so) of Gerard's The Herbal or General History of Plants, but (as I've written about the book before), "I need one that I can keep on my potting bench and get wet, dirty and ruined without any remorse. I'm hell on my books. I don't own a copy of The Herbal but am working on it. I won't buy this one. I don't begrudge spending on books... but... one must try to be reasonable... unless the book is on sailboats, architecture, photography, wood or anything by Robert Frost - (In those cases I'm an unabashed fool)." - Back to Text
9 Yes, I like to think of Linnæus in front of a fireplace. But I can't do it for long. You see, my mind takes me places. It is involuntary.
My initial Linnæus "fireplace thoughts" are usually of a 17th century Swede in a 17th century structure in front of what I envision as 17th century mantle. And then I think of that Tulikivi soapstone fireplace I wanted to put in our place downtown... but freaked out about the freight. Tulikivi is Swedish isn't it? No, Finnish. Isn't it interesting how different are the Fins and Swedes... But "Bang & Olufsen" is DEFINITELY Swedish! Isn't it? Then a compact BeoSound system appears in the scene. Nice. No, maybe the BeoSound9000. Yeah... Linnæus would like that. I wonder if cold affects sound? I wonder if, in the cold, it is better to listen to an iPod or a BeoSound? Wait a minute, B&O is Danish. So, what the hell is Swedish anyway? Oh... Volvo. I can't see Linnæus in a Volvo. But you know, I like Volvos. I like the boxy ones though. All the Volvos I've owned have been good. That last one was sweet even. I wonder if my ex has ding-ed it up yet? Heated seats. Those were sweet. I wonder if the new Volvos are good, you know, the round ones? My truck is supposed to have heated seats. They suck. Maybe I should trade my truck and get a Volvo. Maybe I should keep the truck and get a little Volvo too? Gas mileage. Would that be smart? I wonder,.. do women like guys in Volvos? Do I really care about that? Wouldn't it be ridiculous to make a decision like this based upon what I believe other people think? Is there even a Volvo dealership near here? I know where the Volvo dealership is located in Philadelphia. I think. Was that Radnor? Paoli? I know where the Volvo dealership is located in San Antonio. Atlanta, yep. Didn't we drive by a Volvo dealership in Seattle that time? What the hell am I doing in Illinois anyway? I wonder if I'll die here. Sweet Be-Jesus... Winter is coming isn't it? I probably will die here. Alone. In the ice. Maybe this year. I wonder if I am secretly afraid of death? I don't think so... but... how well do I know myself anyway? What was that movie where that woman thought that all men were afraid of death? The guy was plumber or something? I should have become a plumber. Is it too early get a bourbon?
-
You see where I'm going?
Soon, I have to move on. - Back to Text
10 A four-headed leopard of the apocalypse???
Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn's "Belshazzar's Feast" (1635) (National Gallery, London)
WOW.
This goes back.
Daniel, the Hebrew Bible protagonist of the Book of Daniel, (who knew a thing or two about lions himself) had visions and interpreted dreams. He was the guy who interpreted the "writing on the wall" foretelling immediate doom for King Belshazzar22 of Babylon and ultimately for the Babylonian empire (Daniel 5:1-5:31 American Standard Version). Daniel foretold of Lysimachus, or so some believe.
"The vision in the first year of Belshazzar the king of Babylon (Daniel 7:1) concerning four great beasts (7:3) representing four future kings (7:17) or kingdoms (7:23), the fourth of which devours the whole earth, treading it down and crushing it (7:23);"v
Basically, Daniel had a dream and interpreted it to mean (among other things) that four nations would rise, one upon the decline of the other. Babylon would fall.
(It is a big topic. Please don't jump on me. This is not my area.)
The four beasts were:
- A Winged Lion
- A Bear
- A Winged Leopard Which Grew Four Heads
- A Fourth Beast, different from the others.
There are some who believe that the Lion was Babylon, the Bear was Persia and the Four-Headed Leopard was Greece (Alexander the Great and then the four major Diadochi... Cassander, Ptolemy, Seleucus and Lysimachus.)
Google "Lysimachus and Leopard" and then hold on. I'm not going there in this forum.
11 Much has been written about the character of Alexander. He may have been no worse than any "great man" of his day. He murdered friends in drunken rages. He ensured that no star could shine brightly near him. The world (and every one in it) was there for him and him alone. That he regretted murdering his friends is documented. That he was prudent to debunk rivals may be correct. My intention is not to judge him by a moral standard. Instead, as a product of my own time, I'm simply observing that he was brutal, egotistical and very dangerous to friend and foe alike. The Wikipedia article sums it up nicely:
"Alexander's character [sic] suffers from the interpretation of historians who themselves are subject to the bias and idealisms of their own time. Good examples are W. W. Tarn, who wrote during the late 19th century and early 20th century, and who saw Alexander in an extremely good light, and Peter Green, who wrote after World War II and for whom Alexander did little that was not inherently selfish or ambition-driven. Tarn wrote in an age where world conquest and warrior-heroes were acceptable, even encouraged, whereas Green wrote with the backdrop of the Holocaust and nuclear weapons."
It may have been equally dangerous to stand across a battlefield from him as to stand beside him for long. - Back to Text
12 Freedom of Speech wasn't a phrase then. Freedom of talk. Libertatis. Libertas pro libertate loquendi. Sic saepe et alii.—Vorstius. - Back to Text
13 This "error in judgment" (stepping forward to 'help' Alexander as the lion attacked) created some real problems for Lysimachus. While it was true that Lysimachus was Alexander's bodyguard, Lysimachus was also famous for being the greatest lion hunter. Alexander was not the sort of guy who could let anyone but himself be the greatest at anything. Lysimachus' gesture almost certainly earned him some longstanding enmity from Alexander. - Back to Text
14 Remember, Rome was a free republic at the time of Alexander. The Roman military was essentially a defense of citizen soldiers. It was not until 217 BC (facing the demands of three Punic Wars against Carthage) that Rome "was forced to effectively ignore its long-standing principle that its soldiers must be both citizens and property owners."xi The sons of Rome were needed on battlefields, and they were needed to march there voluntarily.15 Fear and hatred of one's enemies have always been reliable levers for this sort of thing. - Back to Text
15 It is easy to think of "Rome" as the entire Italian peninsula plus additional regions because the eventual empire was vast. But this is not the case at the time of Alexander. At the time, the Roman Republic did not even control the entire Italian "Boot." The entire southern end of Italy was a collection of Greek colonies, called Magna Graecia (Greater Greece). They traded with their fellow Greeks. They worshiped Greek gods. They spoke Greek. They were Greek.
Magna Graecia around 280 BC
With this reality in mind, everything makes more sense.
So... it came to pass that some of these Greek colonies in Italy were feeling the heat from a young, expanding Roman Republic. Something needed to be done.
I mention this to shed some light on the balance of power in the world at the time. You see, Rome was young and expanding, but they weren't indisputably strong... yet. This is where Pyrrhus of Epirus, Alexander's cousin, enters the scene.
"In 281 the Greek city of Tarentum, in southern Italy, fell out with Rome and was faced with a Roman attack and certain defeat. Rome had already made itself into a major power, and was poised to subdue all the Greek cities in Magna Graecia. The Tarentines asked Pyrrhus to lead their war against the Romans."
"Pyrrhus was encouraged to aid the Tarentines by the oracle of Delphi. His goals were not, however, selfless. He recognized the possibility of carving out an empire for himself in Italy. He [sic] arrived in Italy in 280 BC."xii
This was the year after Seleucus and Lysimachus fought to the death at Corupedium.
"He entered Italy with an army consisting of 3,000 cavalry, 2,000 archers, 500 slingers, 20,000 infantry and 19 war elephants in a bid to subdue the Romans."xii
(There were war Elephants tromping about Italy long before Hannibal brought his.)
The crazy thing is this: Pyrrhus won all his battles, (the Battle of Asculum (279 BC) and the Battle of Heraclea (280 BC)). He defeated the Romans at every turn. He slaughtered every Roman legion he met.
But he took heavy losses. (Not nearly so heavy as the Romans, who were annihilated, but heavy nonetheless). Pyrrhus lost his officers and best soldiers. And they were irreplaceable. After the Battle of Heraclea, so it is said, Pyrrhus is quoted to have said "Another such victory over the Romans and we are undone."xiii After Heraclea, Plutarch relates in a report by Dionysius:
"The armies separated; and, it is said, Pyrrhus replied to one that gave him joy of his victory that one more such victory would utterly undo him. For he had lost a great part of the forces he brought with him, and almost all his particular friends and principal commanders; there were no others there to make recruits, and he found the confederates in Italy backward. On the other hand, as from a fountain continually flowing out of the city, the Roman camp was quickly and plentifully filled up with fresh men, not at all abating in courage for the loss they sustained, but even from their very anger gaining new force and resolution to go on with the war."
And this is exactly what came to pass. Pyrrhus did not march on to Rome and finish the job. He left them to fester and recover. It can be argued that the fall of all of Magna Graecia to Rome was a direct consequence of Pyrrhus' "victories." His victories were ultimately defeats for his entire culture.
History teaches us one lesson over and over again. As hard and heartless and cruel as it sounds, the only thing to do with enemies is to utterly destroy them, else they come back. This is why, a couple of hundred years later when Rome defeated Carthage (after three wars) that city-state was destroyed, it's people dispersed and enslaved, it's families divided, it’s culture dismantled, it's Gods debunked, and it's fields tilled with salt.
Hard. Wise.
One cannot un-invade. History teaches this lesson a thousand times over. Pyrrhus should never have invaded Italy. But he did. And he went home bloody with an incomplete conquest. By the time his children were of age, his own country and culture were gone.
And one final thought on this topic:
"[Pyrrhus] was considered one of the greatest military commanders of his time, ranked by Hannibal himself to be the second greatest commander the world had seen after Alexander the Great. Pyrrhus was also known to be very benevolent. As a general, Pyrrhus' greatest political weaknesses were the failure to maintain focus and the failure to maintain a strong treasury at home."xiv
16 I think it is impressive that Lysimachus put his arm in a lion's mouth. I have never done such a thing. However, in my own defense, I have never had an opportunity to do so. And I like to think of myself as brave.
So...
I was thinking about the time Mr. MacGreggor (Mr. Mac, the Tree Climbing Terrier), a wonderful Cairn Terrier who was once in my life, got into something he shouldn't have. He had something dangerous in his mouth.
At the risk of being immodest, I just reached right in there and got it. No fear. No second thoughts. You know, just like Lysimachus.
Here's the good boy! I sure miss him, though he's in good hands.! And uh... yes... that a professionally shot portrait. Long story. A different lifetime, a different world.
Of course the dog bit the hell out of me. And let me tell you, that boy was 16 pounds of twisted steel and sex appeal. It hurt, but I didn't complain. Not me. Just like Lysimachus! - Back to Text
17 The quote "When Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept for there were no more worlds to conquer" has no basis in antiquity. In fact, Plutarch tells us that Alexander wept for quite the opposite reason. "Plutarch had actually said that Alexander wept upon hearing that there were infinite worlds, realizing that he had not yet conquered even one of them."xvi - Back to Text
18 I'd never before seen the word "nimrod" used in this way... but I think it describes a powerful, if perhaps a little misguided, warrior-hunter? - Back to Text
19 Calanus was probably a Jain... and these people are particularly interesting.
"The fylfot (swastika) is among the holiest of Jain symbols. Worshippers use rice grains to create fylfot around the temple altar."xvii
Jainism is an ancient Dharmic religion / Philosophy (but not the oldest) of the ascetic tradition.
"The pervasive influence of Jain culture and philosophy in ancient Bihar possibly gave rise to Buddhism. The Buddhists have always maintained that during the time of Buddha and Mahavira, Jainism was already an ancient and deeply entrenched faith and culture in the region. For a discussion about the connections between Jainism and Buddhism see Jainism and Buddhism. Over several thousand years, Jain influence on Hindu philosophy and religion has been considerable, while Hindu influence on Jain temple worship and rituals may be observed in certain Jain sects."xviii
Mahavira
Flickr Photo Originally Uploaded 23 December 2006
By vlachmore
One might see a statue or idol in parts of Asia and assume it is Buddha. But it may not be so. It may be Lord Mahavira, in which case the temple would be Jain. - Back to Text
20 You have to go read about King Porus. This was a guy! He was one the few who stood up and "slugged it out" with Alexander. The wikipedia entry sums it up:
"King Porus fought the battle of the Hydaspes River with Alexander in 326 BC. After fierce fighting and very heavy casualties on both sides, he was defeated by Alexander in a Pyrrhic victory.23 The battle with King Porus is often considered to be Alexander's hardest fought battle, so hard that it caused his army to mutiny against him afterwards."
After the battle, Alexander actually rewarded him! Wikipedia is great but you should read Xenophon's (also known as Arrian) the "The Campaigns of Alexander" - Back to Text
21 OK... I have no idea about that third point. It is a college town. I suspect EVERY month is a good month for love. - Back to Text
22 The Book of Daniel very clearly refers to King Belshazzar, King of Babylon... the LAST king of Babylon. Interestingly, there was some difficulty corroborating the existance of Belshazzar. When Cyrus the Great - the Persian - conquered Babylon, Belshazzar was not the Babylonian king. The last king of Babylon was Nabonidus. So... who (and when) was Belshazzar? For many centuries this was a mystery. In fact, in 1850 Ferdinand Hitzig claimed that Belshazzar was a "figment of the Jewish writer's imagination."xxii
This wasn't so long ago.
But since then, new information has come to light. Belshazzar has been found! Turns out he was probably more like a "regent." But he was Nabonidus' eldest son. Read all about it at Historical Accuracy: Belshazzar. It is funny how we think we know so much. I wonder what 150 more years will do to reality? - Back to Text
23 The Battle of the Hydaspes as a Pyrrhic vicory?
Charles Le Brun - "Alexander & Porus" 1673 (the Battle of the Hydaspes)
Maybe this is tedious... but... could Alexander the Great win a "Pyrrhic Victory" in 326 BC when Pyrrhus of Epirus wasn't even born yet? And if he could, why don't we call them Hydaspian Victories? Poric defeats? See what I'm getting at? Old Pyrrhus gets a raw deal. - Back to Text
CLASSICAL DOG NAMES - I just found these two posts at laudator temporis acti. The first, is a list of Classical Dog Names and the second post is an addendum... with more names.
WOW.
From those posts:
Hyrkanus was the dog of King Lysimachus, who threw itself on the funeral pyre of his master (Duris in Pliny, Hist. nat. 8.61.143).
and
Alexander's beloved dog, was named Peritas after the Macedonian name for the month of January. Alexander raised him from a puppy and when he died named a city after him (Plut., Vit. Alex. 61.3).
But I'm going to name my next dog, if I am to be blessed with another, LYSIMACHUS!
Posted by: The County Clerk | August 12, 2007 at 11:48 AM
I had time this morning with my coffee to read the entire saga of Lysimachia. Now I want the Lysimachia punctata. My feelings about Alexander have changed.
Unfortunatley the comments were not available this AM when the treatise was still fresh in my mind and I wandered off into the woods. You are left with stale thoughts late at night before I wander off into the dark to see the meteor showers.
I hope that as you peruse the Botanary at Dave's Garden you offer to correct the entries that are invariably incorrect. It is a user generated information bank. I know they have a process for corrections in the Plant Files. Most people who are interested in plant names, binomial nomenclature and the origin of plant names really want the correct information.
Don't forget to go Outside tonight and stare into the void.
Posted by: Christopher C NC | August 12, 2007 at 09:04 PM
I'm leaving real comments on Alexander, Macedonia, conquest, Lysimachus, etc. to your more learned readers.
But I will say that:
1]I wouldn't plant Lysimachia clethroides if you paid me;
2] I grew Lysimachia punctata in the center of a seldom watered border and it stayed reasonably in bounds;
3]Lysimachia nummularia aurea/golden creeping jenny is uncontrollable, but I like it too much to be without it;
4]The movie you're thinking of is 'Moonstruck' and the statements and questions come from Cher/Loretta's mother, played by Olympia Dukakis. Her contention is that men chase women because they fear death.
5]Maybe Linnaeus was enjoying a pun or making a joke when he named Lysimachia - since both man & plant genus want to take over your territory?
6] This is way out in left field, but if I'm reading the tiny letters in my Hortus Third correctly, Linnaeus is the one who named Lysimachia punctata and Lysimachia nummularia. Credit is given to Duby for the Lysimachia clethroides specific name. [ I believe this refers to Jean Etienne Duby of Geneva.] It's the clethroides which is called Loosestrife. The earlier named Punctata means spotted, like some of the your beasts/leapards/lions in the references. What do you think?
Annie at the Transplantable Rose
Posted by: Annie in Austin | August 13, 2007 at 05:50 PM
Maybe the dog should be called Lysimachia punctata 'Spot'... spotted spot. Heh,heh.
Annie
Posted by: Annie in Austin | August 13, 2007 at 05:52 PM
CC: I have read this in episodes and since I am a woman of a certain age I retain little but I do know Lysimachia clethroides and it is invasive in wet areas and a delight in drier areas and the other is insignificant. I think it best to name the dog Lysimachia as it will make much more of an impression and it is a cute name. How about the genus Campanula next time. There are so many worthy plants within that group and while the historical details of Lysimachia are intriguing, the flower does not stand the test of time that Alexander the Great and his Lysimachia do. (Sorry if the tense there is wrong, wine tonight!) Second fiddle...that is probably why Linnaeus named it Lysimachia. An understudy. I loved the read though and will read it again so I may retain more historical facts. Naked guru is what I retained as I like naked! And, I like guru!
Posted by: layanee | August 14, 2007 at 08:16 PM
your posts are so dense! it takes me hours to read them all the way through, and then it takes me at least another hour to go look at all the things that tempted me. in the interest of saving my sanity, and because i'm having no luck... do you happen to know what hyrkanus means? why is it also a name taken by jewish kings?
and thank you for a neat ride this morning. it was much better than the one featuring angelina jolie and the irish alexander.
Posted by: bright | August 17, 2007 at 03:24 PM
Christopher C of NC: Yes... I know that it is a long "saga" - but this is how I feel about the plants in my garden. Humans have spent millennia with these plants. As for the punctata, remind me next summer when mine has had a chance to grow in. I'll overnight you some. I just don't don't have enough to do it now. Also... I've added ANOTHER Lysimachia species to the garden. Lysimachia atropurpurea 'Beaujolais' - I am delighted by this little discovery. Check it out!
My feelings about Alexander have always been mixed. He was a brute, but some believe blessed by God (the Judeo-Christian God). More on than in response top Bright's comment.
Your "stale" thoughts are welcome. Even "stale" to you, they are fresh in Lake County.
I may reach out to the Dave's Garden folks but most likely will not. In the past, when I have emailed them, I wind up in the middle of a debate with them. I'm not interested. Plus, the "Botanary" is a list a "descriptions of a very few words." Translations and interpretations do not lend themselves to three or four word explanations. Even etymology dictionaries dedicate a paragraph or so.
By the way, I did go outside tonight and stare into the void. But I do that EVERY night!
Annie in Austin: Your comments are off the hook good. Thank you.
You wrote "Maybe Linnaeus was enjoying a pun or making a joke when he named Lysimachia - since both man & plant genus want to take over your territory?" Now THAT is an explanation that goes with my understanding of Linnaeus! I'll buy it!
And... as embarrassed as I am to admit it, I'd never HEARD of the "Hortus Third" before. Hortus Third: A Concise Dictionary of Plants Cultivated in the United States and Canada. Wow. Every day my eyes are opened wider. I have rectified the situation. One is on it's way to me as I type. THANK YOU.
As for your "point six":
6] This is way out in left field, but if I'm reading the tiny letters in my Hortus Third correctly, Linnaeus is the one who named Lysimachia punctata and Lysimachia nummularia. Credit is given to Duby for the Lysimachia clethroides specific name. [ I believe this refers to Jean Etienne Duby of Geneva.] It's the clethroides which is called Loosestrife. The earlier named Punctata means spotted, like some of the your beasts/leapards/lions in the references. What do you think?
Interesting. I have not seen the Hortus Third yet, and I don't doubt the veracity of you write. Also, common names are SO OFTEN misleading. But I've seen SEVERAL Lysimachia's called Loosestrife.
I've also seen things in the Lythrum family so designated:
Curious.
As for your "spotted" theory - Leopards etc. It is highly amusing (as are YOU of course). But I'm not so sure you are serious.
As for the canine: Lysimachia punctata 'Spot'... spotted spot... yes! I may just do that!
Pam: Nimrod! The great biblical hunter king! I had no idea Virginia was so "old testament." Nimrod... that goes WAY back to pillars of salt and flood days. You no doubt KNEW what the word meant. I did not. I had another nimrod meaning in my mind. TOO FUNNY!
And how is Stanley these days?
Layanee: I have tried to grow a few types of Campanula several times... and have have not had good success. What is working for you?
You are right! The word Campanula is a GOOD ONE.
It goes back to Ancient Rome and before... to the inhabitants of the ancient village of Capua and the plain around it... the Campanian plain. The region today is called "Campania." (One wonders if Shakespeare's creation of the House of Capulet, (Juliet Capulet of the Romeo & Juliet) comes from the notion of capua as well.)
"Campani was the name used by the Romans to denote the inhabitants first of the town of Capua and the district subject to it, and then after its destruction in the Hannibalic war (211 B.C.), to describe the inhabitants of the Campanian plain generally. The name, however, is pre-Roman and appears with Oscan terminations on coins of the early 4th (or late 5th) century B.C."fi
So... there's an ancient region in Italy called Campania. Fast forward to 4th or 5th century where "popular lore" tells us about a bishop of the area (at the episcopal see of Nola) who described his church in a letter. The story goes that the bishop of Nola used the word "campana" for bell. "The earliest Latin word for a bell (campana) is late Latin of the 4th or 5th century A.D.; and the first application of bells to churches has been ascribed to Paulinus, bishop of Nola in Campania about A.D. 400."fii
Except... the letter (where the bishop described his church) survives to this day... and doesn't mention bells.
But it doesn't matter. Campana is an early word for "bell."
Apparently (the lore tells us) the bell (if there was one at all) at Nola was small. Campana + Nola = Campanula. Little Bell!
"There is, however, no confirmation of this story, which may have arisen from the words campana and nola (a small bell); and in a letter from Paulinus to the emperor Severus, describing very fully the decoration of his church, the bishop makes no mention of bells. It has been maintained with somewhat more reason that Pope Sabinianus (604) first used church bells; but it seems clear that they were introduced into France as early as 550."fii
As for the wine, I say imbibe and enjoy!
Your "Second fiddle... understudy" notion is also intriguing! These are the kinds of connections Linnaeus made. I love that you all are jumping in on the "What was Linnaeus thinking" game. As for naked... I wholeheartedly agree. Naked is good!
fi from the Classic Encyclopedia: Campania, Italy
fii from the Classic Encyclopedia: Bell
Bright: GOOD QUESTION. I do NOT know what hyrkanus means... but will look into it. And I don't know why it is also a name taken by jewish kings. I suspect the answer to the first question will answer the second.
But this reminds me of a story I just came across over coffee this weekend with an interesting Jewish scholar in my acquaintance. I was thinking out-loud about Alexander the Great and this gentleman (an old friend) began to tell me a series of stories about Alexander the Great and Judaism. Fascinating. I am a Scottish Presbyterian/English Episcopalian by lineage but I am VERY interested in all the faiths of the world... particularly Judaism. I don't discuss my religious BELIEFS here. I won't. But history is another matter. And history is religion's sibling. (In my insignificant opinion, one can't ask why we are here without asking when and how.) My thinking, over coffee, concerned the Prophecy in the Book of Daniel about the fall of Babylon and its conquest by several other nations. I wondered then if Alexander's conquest might be interpreted by religious types as sanctioned by the God of Daniel. In other words, if one believes such things, did the God that revealed the prophecy to Daniel ALSO lead Alexander to conquer? The logic stands.
It turns out that FOR THIS REASON and OTHERS, Alexander holds a special place in the Jewish Tradition. Alexander is an "authentic" Jewish name. Rabbi Jeremy Rosen wrote a nice explanation of the Alexander connection. Check it out.
Posted by: The County Clerk | August 20, 2007 at 12:07 PM