“‘Ceterum autem censeo Carthaginem esse delendam’ (English: “Furthermore, I consider that Carthage must be destroyed”) is a Latin oratorical phrase which was in popular use in the Roman Republic in the 2nd Century BC during the latter years of the Punic Wars against Carthage. The phrase was most famously uttered frequently and persistently almost to the point of absurdity by the Roman senator Cato the Elder (234-149 BC), as a part of his speeches.”
“Oh, gods, you didn’t invite Cato tonight, did you?”
“I — I invited everyone in the Senate –”
“Uuuuuuuuuughhh.”
“What is it? What’s wrong? What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing, if you wanted to host a Carthage-destroying lecture tonight. But if you wanted to throw a pleasant dinner party, you know, everything.”
“He’s still on that kick?”
“Still on that…Listen, Lavinia the Hostess, yesterday I ran into Cato outside of the Villa Publica — the Villa Publica, mind you, not the Curia Hostilia, and I tried to have a conversation with him, and do you know what he said to me instead of saying ‘goodbye’ or ‘take care’ or ‘give my love to the little ones’?”
“What?”
“He said ‘Carthage must be destroyed.’ Just like that. Like he’s on the floor of the Senate. That’s what he says instead of goodbye now.”
“No.”
“Swear it.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“And the worst part is, he’s preaching to the choir. It’s…look, of course, in theory I agree that Carthage must be destroyed. And we will destroy it, we absolutely will. But there are so many other places to destroy right now. We have to destroy Macedonia, we have to destroy Philip of the Nine Golden Armies, we have to destroy Tyre and Sidon, we have to destroy the bearded men of the north…we can’t drop everything and go destroy Carthage right now just because it’s Cato’s pet project.”
“Of course.”
“And frankly, in the meantime, it’s more than a little rude of him. Must the niceties no longer be observed just because Carthage still has people living in it? Would it kill him to just say ‘goodbye’ at the end of a conversation?”
“I kn — oh, shut up, shut up, he’s here. I’m sorry. But be nice. Be nice.”
“I’m always nice.”
“Not your version of nice. What other people mean when they say nice.”
“Uuuuughhh.”
***
Things had gone well, if a bit stiffly, at first. At one point Marcellus the Awful mentioned a partridge hunt he’d recently been on and Cato’s eyes gleamed before he realized he’d misheard him.
But Autilius the Sailor had only that week returned from a four-year trip to the Islands of the Sun, and innocently remarked on the towers of Carthage during his return voyage. Lavinia the Hostess could have poisoned him.
“Carthage, you say?” Cato said blandly, and she knew in her heart the night was ruined. But they didn’t call her Lavinia the Hostess for nothing.
Turning to the man on her left, Lavinia asked (loudly, brightly, determinedly), “Pliny, I hear you’ve discovered a new kind of hedgehog. That must have been fascinating.”
Pliny swallowed, nodding excitedly. “I have — I was walking in my garden when –”
“The thing about Carthage,” Cato said, “is that it must be destroyed.”
Julia the Snob pursed her lips in amazement, and Lavinia the Hostess knew she could kiss the planning committee goodbye this year.
“Is this a new kind of cheese?” Marcellus asked Lavinia, gamely trying to stem the tide, and she could have kissed him.
“The thing. About Carthage. Is that it must be destroyed. We sit here feasting like victorious warriors while Carthage stands, even now, her proud towers visible from the sea!”
Yes, of course, Lavinia thought desperately, but life has to go on –
Cato grabbed the salt cellar from the middle of the table. “Imagine this is the fleet of the Phoenicians,” he instructed the girl to his left. He poured his goblet of wine across Lavinia’s best tablecloth. “And this is the wine-dark sea. Now, Carthage is over here” — he scattered the bones from his plate and began to fashion a crude set of towers out of them.
Lavinia drank the rest of her goblet in one sustained gulp, then motioned to the serving-Gaul for more. It was going to be a long night.
Tags: carthage, cato the elder, fun with idioms, history, the roman republic
Carthaginians? Oh, I misheard. My apologies, carry on.
wait I want to know more about this hedgehog
Poor Pliny! For a minute he really thought someone cared.
There’s one species of hedgehog native to Italy – the European hedgehog. That can’t be a “new” hedgehog, right? So there are possibilities: it could be a waif hedgehog, brought over in some grain or wood or whatever from other parts of the Empire, hanging out in Pliny’s garden alone and sad – either the North African Hedgehog, the southern white-breasted hedgehog, the northern white-breasted hedgehog, or the desert hedgehog – all species found in southern Europe, northern Africa, or Asia Minor. Maybe one species had a bigger range 2000 years ago – this is also possible.
Option two is it’s the “blonde” variety of European hedgehog – so pale! So visible! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Milton_blonde_h…
Bless.
“Hedgehogs also lay up food for the winter; rolling themselves on apples as they lie on the ground, they pierce one with their quills, and then take up another in the mouth, and so carry them into the hollows of trees.” (Pliny, Natural History 8.56)
I am delighted by this!
Now I wanna read some Asterix.
Not your version of nice. What other people mean when they say nice.
But my version of nice is….fine! It’s nice!
“Look, last week Julia the Incestual told me that you intimidate her.”
“I’M NOT INTIMIDATING.”
UGH, TOO REAL.
“But Elder, WHY must it be destroyed?” said Daphne the Troll, sipping her third gin and tonic with delight, basking in the looks of death pointed her way.
I’m going to train my friends to say “Not your version of nice. What other people mean when they say nice.” to me.
Co-signed.
Seriously funny.
<3 <3 <3 Pliny <3 <3 <3
I need a Cato/Ecce Romani mash-up where they get stuck in a ditch for days, just listening to Cato babble on about Carthage. Then Davus stabs him.
Or Gaius Cornelius Cornelii just beats him with a stick repeatedly… oh Ecce Romani
I was just assigned to read the first part of Purgatorio and Cato is the first guy Dante meets when he gets out of hell! How did you know I needed this???
Cato the Elder and Cato the Younger: who was a bigger pill? Discuss.
Have you read Colleen McCullough’s First Man in Rome series? I’m almost through it, and man—Cato the Younger is SUCH a tool. I hate Servilia, but I kind of liked it when she scratched the hell out of his face.
I liked Colleen McCullough’s series, but . . . she’s totally in love with Julius Caesar, and that throws off how she treats everyone else. I actually kind of like Cato – he must have been annoying as hell, but he was an honorable man.
Protip (not that I’m a pro, but whatever): whenever there’s an Elder and a Younger, no matter how annoying the Elder might be, the Younger is always worse.
A truism.
(The next century. A banquet.)
“Waitwaitwait: did she just call you Cato?”
“She did. For the reason that it’s my name.”
“Marcus Portius Cato?”
“Marcus Portius Cato Uticensis.”
“Oh shit! Hey, Lucius! We got Marcus Motherfucking Cato here!”
“Cato. Cato. Oh man. I’m, I’m Lucius. You look really young, really super good for your age. You want a dormouse, Cato?”
“No.”
“Cato doesn’t want your fucking dormice, Luce.”
“No kidding. I brought, like, XXIV of these little fuckers, and no one’s touched ’em. Everyone’s going for the larks. Maybe you want a lark, Cato?”
“I detest the eating of larks. Their bones vex the throat.”
“Oh. Then, uh. Could you…Cato, sir, do you think you could-?”
“Fuck’s sakes, Luce! Don’t bother Cato. I mean unless of course you want to, Cato. Then that’s fine by me.”
“Want to what.”
“Oh, you know. The famous line about-”
“That was my grandfather, decades dead.”
“Yeah, but-”
“Carthage is a memory, a plain of ashes, and all Africa lies subject to the Republic. If you wish me to inveigh, it will not be against the Punics, nor yet the Greeks or Gauls; for it is Romans who threaten Rome now. Populists and demagogues discoursing in the street, their right hands extended in wheedling supplication, their left hands clutched around cudgels, grasping razors-”
“Okay! Okay, got it. Populists, boo, evil. But, if you could just…”
“No.”
“Oh. Don’t be that guy! C’mon. Just, just-”
“I consider,” says Cato.
“Yeah?”
“I consider,” he says, teeth gritted, “that you must be destroyed.”
“Well.” Lucius blinks. “Well. You’re right about that. I am, like, entirely wasted just now.”
Oh that’s just beautiful.
It’s a good thing Trimalchio never invites him over
“Mallory is an Editor of The Toast.” Yes she is, but more importantly she brings to literary life the most amazing things my mind never knew it wanted. Mallory, do you take tea with my subconscious in the darkest hours of the night? Evidence suggests that you do.
Roman Dad Magazine
If you don’t know about the Punic Wars and have a few minutes, here’s a fantastic video series: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EbBHk_zLTmY
He’s right that the Punic Wars, especially the Second, have absolutely everything you’d hope for in an epic fantasy novel.
This could singlehandedly revive the study of Latin in high school. Thanks, it’s great! Or maximus or something.
Is your firstborn ready to don the toga virilis? Ensure his future success and fertility with these hot sacrifical items.