I’ve been reading If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho, a translation of Sappho’s poetry by Anne Carson, and last night came upon one I had been VERY curious about how she would approach:
The book. Fragment 102. On the left, two lines of Greek text:
Γλύκηα μᾶτερ, οὔ τοι δύναμαι κρέκην τὸν ἴστον
πόθῳ δάμεισα παῖδος βραδίναν δι’ Ἀφροδίταν.
And on the right, Anne Carson’s translation:
sweet mother I cannot work the loom
I am broken with longing for a boy by slender Aphrodite
I, of course, being Too Online that I am, am more familiar with this translation, by Diane J. Rayor:
Sweet mother, I cannot weave–
slender Aphrodite has overcome me
with longing for a girl.
So of course I wondered, What Is The Truth? Anne Carson provides lots of end-notes on word usage and historical context, but was fully and uncharacteristically silent on this one.
When looking into it, the word Sappho used for the object of her longing is παῖδος, paîdos, which is most commonly translated as “youth” because it’s not gendered. It can mean either a boy or a girl.
So, whether Sappho is overcome by Aphrodite with longing for a boy or for a girl is, in fact, translator’s choice. (There are reasons besides heteronormative assumptions for translating it as “boy”—though the word is not gendered, it’s cognate with a lot of words like puer that mean “son” so may have had a more masculine-as-default assumption (like a lot of European languages do), and when Sappho wrote about young women, the word she commonly used was παρθένος parthénos “young woman, maiden, virgin.” But paîs/paîdos it is not a gendered word and could be translated either way!)
And honestly now I appreciate the cleverness of ones who find workarounds to avoid gendering the one she’s longing for, to be more honest to what she actually wrote.
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He seems to me equal to gods that man
Sappho, If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho; from ‘Fragment 31′, tr. Anne Carson
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“but a kind of yearning has hold of me—to die
and to look upon the dewy lotus banks
of Acheron”
-Sappho, from If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho (2002) trans. Anne Carson
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if not, winter
What happens when your ex, who you definitely don’t still have feelings for, is your only hope?
After an explosive breakup, Nyreen and Aria go their separate ways — sort of. While Nyreen licks her wounds and moves on with her life, Aria lets them fester and lets the station rot around her. Cerberus has a nasty habit of throwing wrenches where they don’t belong, though, and Aria’s boat gets rocked enough to capsize entirely. With her kingdom in shambles, her rotten station seized, and her goddamn couch stolen right out from under her, everything seems hopeless — until Nyreen swoops in with her resistance to take it all back.
But will she take Aria back, too?
Rating: Explicit
Wordcount: 15,809
Chapters: 11/11
Tags:
More info, playlist, and preview below the cut.
{READ HERE ON AO3}
FINALLY i can reveal what the fuck i've been working on for MONTHS: my entry for mebb 2023 and also (technically) the fourth book of Helix. i had the privilege of working with @tentacledix, who made the incredible art and the banner for this fic!!
naturally, there's a playlist:
as well as music recs in each chapter.
acknowledgements: big thanks to my fellow mebb authors who graciously kept this thing going when i wanted to quit like fifteen times. y’all know who you are.
preview:
Then he dragged in a scrawny, pale-plated turian who had the gumption to stomp right up Aria’s stairs and demand a job, just like that. No references, no resume, no respect.
Garka had a gun to her head before she’d finished taking a step forward. The turian had Garka disarmed and on the floor before the rest of them could blink.
Nyreen Kandros. No rank like most of the military rejects tried to cling to, but she still used her full legal. Dipshit.
“No handle?” Aria simpered.
Nyreen flicked her mandible. “Only on my knives.”
“Barefaced brat,” Grizz spat under his breath.
She rattled back a slew of insults Aria was sure Grizz couldn’t spell with a dictionary in front of him. He had a point, though. Kandros wasn’t a family name one just threw around, and it was odd that one of theirs had wound up on her doorstep without a speck of blue anywhere on her.
Aria stretched her arms across the back of the couch. “You’re either very brave or very stupid, and neither of those is any use to me.”
“Good,” Nyreen huffed, crossing her arms. “Because I’m neither one of those, ma’am.”
Anto choked on his drink. “Ma’am,” he wheezed.
“My apologies,” the interloper sneered. “I’m neither one of those, Your Majesty.”
She even sketched a bow, glancing up at Aria beneath her browplates. Insubordinate dipshit.
Aria swiped Anto’s drink and took a sip. “So what are you, then, if you’re not brave or stupid?”
There was the posture everyone expected of a well-bred bird. Nyreen straightened up, held her head high, clicked her heels twice — oh, she still had that stick jammed right up her pretty little—
“Loyal, Your Majesty. I’m loyal and efficient.”
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"you came and I was crazy for you
and you cooled my mind that burned with longing"
- Sappho (translated by Anne Carson in If not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho)
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