George Sharpley, author of Beginners' Latin, looks at why the spoken element of this language shouldn't be overlooked, especially when it comes to learning about and appreciating the timeless elements of the poetry and politics that come with this ancient language. 

When this course was first published in the mid-90s my editor was a little surprised when I asked for an audio to go with it. She conceded that this course is part of a wider series of beginners’ language books, complete with audios, but not unreasonably wondered who would be ordering a beer or asking directions in Latin. ‘Speak Latin in five easy stages’ and ‘Get around the ancient forum with confidence’ are taglines reserved for the likes of French and Spanish, and other actively spoken languages.

What’s more, it is the surviving books of the ancients that have given us access to their world, along with insights gleaned from archaeology. Ancient Greece and Rome have long been regarded as model literate societies. Their texts remain a source of inspiration, their survival itself a thing of wonder, which is easy to overlook in our digital age of effortless replication. Their historic languages have dominated the landscape of books in the western tradition, and learning them was for a long time a necessary step towards a fully rounded education. They are seen as the bedrock of literacy: Latin littera gave us the word ‘letter’, via French, and more directly a host of others (‘literal’, ‘literate’, ‘literary’, and more).

I am not going to disagree with this. Indeed the structure of Latin, and its influence on English, are at the centre of my course. But this rich history of Latin has allowed a precious gem to slip beneath our radar.

What is easily lost in Latin’s centuries-old confinement to books and stone memorials is the very thing which made it so special: its voice. Classical Latin literature was in its day a treat for the ear. Even those who were rich enough to learn to read would hear poems of Virgil and Ovid read aloud. Long after poetry was first written down it continued to be recited — and to some extent performed — before public audiences. There were more private readings too: we are told that Virgil read draft lines of the Aeneid to Augustus and his sister Octavia; and Virgil’s friend Horace sought a more limited audience for his Odes.

Traditionally poets were public performers, along with orators, storytellers, historians, actors, singers, dancers, flute-players, jugglers and whoever else. If, as is likely, oral presentations of poetry reached audiences far wider than the few who learned to read, it is no surprise that the first of the emperors, Augustus, was keen to sponsor these poets. It also helps to explain why we know of so few female poets: women in ancient Rome were discouraged from addressing public gatherings of any kind. That they composed poetry is beyond doubt, but most of it has either been lost or bundled up with the work of male poets.

So I am delighted that an audio remains a part of my course: you can study the grammar and structure of the language, with its rich influence on English, and also listen to the story of the murder mystery in the monastery, and the brief readings of ancient authors.

If this has whet your appetite, you can hear Latin poetry read here, by Matthew Hargreaves: Aeneas and his guide the Sibyl have entered the chilling, dark realms of the underworld (from Virgil’s Aeneid). This is taken from a live performance which we have been taking around the UK (The Song of Arms and a Man).