NO

 

Catalogue Raisonné of J. L. Speranza’s Publications – H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Noc

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Noce – Ossia: Grice e Noce: l’implicatura conversazionale – la polemica contro il fascismo di Gentile -- la scuola di Pistoia -- filosofia toscana Augusto Del Noce (Pistoia, Toscana): l’implicatura conversazionale – la polemica contro il fascismo di Gentile -- In Grice’s theory of reason‑governed conversational meaning, implicature arises from the rational expectations that speakers and hearers bring to dialogue: meaning is generated through cooperative inference, largely abstracted from historical contingencies, so that linguistic philosophy becomes a way of healing intellectual life after collective trauma by focusing on ordinary language and shared rational norms. N. approaches conversational implication from an almost opposite horizon: for him, conversation, philosophy, and meaning are inseparable from history, politics, and metaphysics, so that what is implied in discourse cannot be detached from the crisis of modernity, the legacy of Gentile’s fascism, or the unresolved tension between immanence and transcendence. Where Grice treats conversational reason as a universal mechanism that allows interlocutors to escape ideological φορτίο by appealing to tacit rules of cooperation, Del Noce reads implicature historically, as the unspoken residue carried by concepts forged within rationalism, Marxism, or fascism, and therefore as something that must be critically uncovered rather than neutrally reconstructed. Grice’s Oxford project aims to suspend historical weight to clarify meaning, whereas Del Noce insists that meaning is always already burdened by history and theology, so that true dialogue requires confronting the implicit philosophical commitments of modern discourse itself; implicature, for Grice, secures mutual understanding, while for Del Noce it exposes the hidden metaphysical wagers that make modern conversation politically and morally fraught. Grice: “Only in Italy, philosophy and history are so connected; it would be as if we at Oxford after the war would be only concerned with understanding Churchill!” Grice: “For us, to do linguistic philosophy was to get away from post-tramautic stress disorder acquired during what Winthrop stupidly called the ‘phoney’ war!” – Grice: “It’s not difficult to understand why Noce’s notes on Gentile were only published posthumously!” -- essential Italian philosopher. «Certo i cattolici hanno un vizio maledetto: pensare alla forza della modernità e ignorare come questa modernità, nei limiti in cui pensa di voler negare la trascendenza religiosa, attraversi oggi la sua massima crisi, riconosciuta anche da certi scrittori laici.»  (Risposte alla scristianità, da Il Sabato). Ttitolare della cattedra di "Storia delle dottrine politiche" all'Università La Sapienza di Roma.  Studioso del razionalismo cartesiano e del pensiero moderno (Hegel, Marx), analizzò le radici filosofiche e teologiche della crisi della modernità, ricostruendo con cura le contraddizioni interne dell'immanentismo.  Argomentò l'incompatibilità tra marxismo, umanesimo, ed altri sistemi di pensiero che propugnavano la liberazione secolare dell'uomo e la dottrina cristiana (affermò: "solo il Redentore può emancipare"). Sostenne tenacemente, per tali motivi, l'impossibilità del dialogo tra cattolici e comunisti e previde il "suicidio della rivoluzione". Studioso del fascismo, sostenne che tale ideologia fosse peraltro in continuità con il comunismo e fosse anch'esso un momento della secolarizzazione della modernità. Sostenne, inoltre, l'esistenza di molti punti di contatto tra il fascismo e il pensiero dei sessantottini. Filosofo della politica, preconizzò la crisi del socialismo reale, mentre esso viveva la sua massima espansione a livello mondiale. saggio su Gentile e il fascismo, Faggi, Serbati, Spir, Vidari, Rensi, Martinetti, Juvalta, Massantini, Catelli, Capograssi. Grice: Caro Noce, devo confessare che parlare di filosofia in Italia è come prendere un caffè a Pistoia: sempre un po’ di storia, un pizzico di polemica e quel retrogusto di modernità in crisi! Noce: Eh, caro Grice, qui da noi la filosofia non si beve mai da sola! Gentile, fascismo, marxismo… tutto finisce nel bicchiere, ma ti avverto: la modernità ha lasciato il fondo amaro, e i cattolici cercano ancora la zuccheriera! Grice: Da noi a Oxford, dopo la guerra, la filosofia serviva per dimenticare il ‘phoney war’ e Churchill… Ma a quanto pare, voi italiani preferite filosofare sul perché la rivoluzione si suicida piuttosto che godervi una pausa! Noce: Grice, la filosofia politica qui è come la pasta: se la scuoti troppo, rischi di far saltare anche il ragù! Meglio discutere con ironia, perché tra secolarizzazione e trascendenza, il vero dialogo sta tutto nel condimento! Noce, Augusto Del (1934). L’anti-cartesianismo. Rivista di Filosofia Neo‑Scolastica

 

NOF

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Noferi – Ossia: Grice e Noferi: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale della setta di Firenze – la scuola di Firenze  Palla di Noferi Strozzi (Firenze, Toscana): la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale della setta di Firenze – A comparison between Grice and Palla di Noferi Strozzi helps frame Grice’s theory of reason‑governed conversational meaning in a historical-social key rather than a narrowly academic one: where Grice systematizes implicature as arising from shared rational expectations governing cooperative conversation, Palla Strozzi exemplifies a lived, pre‑theoretical practice of such reasoned conversational exchange embedded in Florentine civic and cultural life. Grice’s own preference for what he called “Athenian dialectic” implicitly downgrades other philosophical environments as “sects,” yet Palla’s Florence fits remarkably well with Grice’s core insight that meaning flourishes where rational interlocutors share norms, backgrounds, and communal purposes. Palla was not a system‑builder and never held a university post, but his role as patron, mentor, and convener of learned conversation—centered on his library and his cultivated social spaces—shows conversational reason operating through example, taste, and shared cultural competence rather than formal doctrine. In this sense, Florence functions as a “sect” only in Grice’s ironic taxonomy: it is precisely the kind of environment where implicature thrives, because much is meant without being said, relying on common training in classical texts, art, and civic values. Palla’s own Diario, attested as a fifteenth‑century manuscript source, confirms a world in which reflection, political judgment, and cultural meaning are negotiated conversationally rather than scholastically, aligning him with Grice in spirit if not in method: both treat conversation not as ornament, but as the medium in which rational meaning, social norms, and philosophical significance are generated and sustained. Grice would often speak of the ‘Athenian dialectic’ – by which he meant just Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle – and none of the ‘minor’ schools other than the Agora –where Socrates preached barefoot, the Academy, or the Lycaeum --. Grice’s implicature seems to be that he would deem those ‘minor’ – pre-socratic and post-socratic or Hellenistic schools – as ‘minor – ‘sects.’ Italians more or less behave similarly. Other than Bologna, everything is more or less a ‘sect’, including whatever happens at Florence! Filosofo fiorentino. Filosofo toscano. Filosofo italiano. Firenze, Toscana. Important Italian philosopher, especially influential at what Grice called Italy’s Oxford, i. e. Firenze“Palla Strozzi was more a mentor than a philosopher, but I would consider him both a Grecian and Griceian in spirit.” alla Strozzi   Palla e Lorenzo Strozzi. Dettaglio dell'Adorazione dei Magi di Gentile da Fabriano. Grazie alla ricchezza accumulata nelle ultime generazioni dalla sua famiglia, il padre puo far istruire il figlio da filosofi, e grazie all'interesse e all'intelligenza, divenne di fatto uno dei più fini uomini di cultura fiorentini. Ricco e colto, commissiona numerose opere d'arte, tra le quali la Cappella N. nella Basilica di Santa Trinita, opera di Brunelleschi e Ghiberti. La cappella, progetto irrealizzato da N., venne fatta erigere in la sua memoria e ne ospita la sepoltura monumentale. Per questo ambiente commissiona l'Adorazione dei Magi. Grice: “His main claim to philosophical fame is in his character- unlike Alibizi’s and indeed Medici. He loved freedom, and chose to settle in Padova, although his roots were well in Firenze. He built hiw palace in Padova in Prato del Vallo to gather philosophers, since what’s the good of knowing the classics if you cannot converse? He never touched a university! His ‘bibliotheca’ is legendary! “Beautiful painting (by Gentile da Fabriano) of Noferi. Very Italian in an exotic sort of way!” – Grice. Refs.:, " Grice: Caro Noferi, a Oxford diciamo che senza università non c’è filosofia, ma tu sembri aver costruito una biblioteca più famosa dell’Accademia stessa… Firenze sarà anche una “setta”, ma che spirito di gruppo! Noferi: Ebbene, Grice, meglio una setta con belle cappelle e buoni pittori che un’Accademia dove si discute solo a stomaco vuoto! A Firenze preferiamo una conversazione con vino, arte e qualche implicatura nascosta tra le righe. Grice: Ammetto che il tuo spirito fiorentino mi affascina: la biblioteca, le chiacchiere, e persino Brunelleschi che progetta per te! Forse la vera filosofia nasce più facilmente in una loggia che in un’aula. Noferi: Esatto, Grice! Qui a Firenze si dice: “Senza conversazione, anche il pensiero più alto resta chiuso in soffitta… Meglio scendere in salotto, tra amici, capolavori e un buon bicchiere!” Noferi, Palla di N. Strozzi. (1415). Diario. Firenze.

 

NOL

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Nola – Ossia: Grice e Nola: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale dell’urina – la scuola di Crotone -- filosofia calabrese  Giovanni Andrea de Nola (Crotone, Calabria): la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale dell’urina. A comparison between Grice and Giovanni Andrea de Nola situates Grice’s theory of reason‑governed conversational meaning within a broader Aristotelian and medical tradition, where meaning emerges through regulated, practice‑bound interpretation rather than abstract stipulation. Grice’s interest in the multiplicity of predication, especially in his discussions of “medical” as an analogically unified term, mirrors de Nola’s medical‑philosophical concern with how signs are interpreted across contexts, most strikingly in his analysis of urine and bodily sediment. For Grice, conversational implicature arises from shared rational expectations that allow interlocutors to move from what is said to what is meant; for de Nola, medical signs function similarly, requiring the physician to infer meaning from observable phenomena by appealing to proportionality, analogy, and practical reason rather than fixed definition. Grice’s critique of reducing unity of meaning to a single “focal” structure, and his insistence on multiple modes of unification in signification, finds a historical counterpart in de Nola’s insistence that sanitas is not a single homogeneous property but instantiated diversely across healthy and diseased bodies. In this sense, de Nola’s medical reasoning exemplifies a pre‑modern anticipation of Gricean insight: meanings, whether conversational or diagnostic, are governed by rational norms shared within a practice, sustained by communal expertise, and made intelligible through inference rather than explicit rule, so that medicine itself appears as a specialized form of reason‑guided conversation between nature, practitioner, and community. Grice: “At Oxford, we are proud of our philosophy, at Bologna, and in Italy in general, they are proud of their physicians, as they call them – students of nature!”. In “Aristotle on the multiplicity of being” and in his unpublications, Grice considers – in the seminar on Categories with his former pupil Srawson – possible predications for ‘medical’ --. In his earlier reflections, Grice is concerned, like Aristotle, with the variety of such predications – ‘medical practice,’ ‘medical herb,’ ‘medical science,’ ‘medical person’. In ‘Multiplicity,’ he goes further. He is interested in refuting Owen, an Anglo-Welsh philosopher, former pupil of Ryle, who had made ‘focal unification’ a bit of the favourite jargon of the day. For Grice, ‘focal’ unification is just ONE type of such ‘unification’ in ‘signification.’ There is, of course, analogical unification, and recursive unification. Grice goes on to propose an exploration in what Aristotle might have had in mind when choosing ‘medical’ as his choice for ‘analogical’ or proportional unification – and comes out with something resembling his excursions into ‘theory-theory’. ‘Medical’ may thus be a bit of the vocabulary of the ‘lay’ or the ‘vulgar,’ for which the ‘learned’ is trying to provide his ‘rational’ or ‘logical’ ‘re-construction’ – Grice restricts the use of ‘construction’ to such routines for which there is no counterpart in the vernacular. Di origini napoletane e zio di Molisi, insegna per lungo tempo a Napoli. Discepolo di Altomare, divenne noto per suo saggio, “Quod sedimentum sanorum, aegrorumque corporum non sit eiusdem speciei adversus Ferdinandum Cassanum et alios contrarium sentientes.” Cf. Marruncelli, Elementi dell'arte di ragionare in medicina” Crotone, Plato, Nola-Molise, corpus sanum, focal unification, Owen, Pantzig, brennpunktbedeutung, Aristotle, Metafisica, ‘unificazione focale’ – universale: ‘sanitas’ instantiazione: corpus sanum, corpi sani. Grice: Caro Nola, in Inghilterra siamo fieri della nostra filosofia, ma non posso non ammirare la tradizione medica italiana, soprattutto quella calabrese! Dimmi, come riesci a legare la pratica medica alla filosofia della ragione conversazionale? Nola: Grice, la tua domanda è tanto profonda quanto semplice! In Calabria, consideriamo ogni parola e ogni diagnosi come frutto di una conversazione genuina. Anche nell’urina, ci vediamo tracce del dialogo tra corpo e mente: la medicina è sempre una questione di proporzione, analogia e significatione. Grice: Che raffinata prospettiva, de Nola! A Oxford discutiamo spesso di “focal unification” nei predicati medici, ma sono sempre stato affascinato da come tu sappia integrare la logica aristotelica con la pratica quotidiana, persino nell’interpretazione dei segni corporei. Nola: Grice, la tua eleganza dialettica è fonte di ispirazione. Tra Napoli e Crotone abbiamo imparato che “sanitas” si manifesta in molte forme, e ogni corpus sanum è un’istanza unica, proprio come ogni conversazione. La logica e la medicina camminano insieme, perché svelano la verità attraverso la pluralità dei segni! Nola, Giovanni Andrea de (1562). Quod sedimentum sanorum, aegrorumque corporum non sit eiusdem speciei adversus Ferdinandum Cassanum & alios contrarium sentientes. Venezia: Bevilacqua

 

NON

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Nonnio – Ossia: Grice e Nonnio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Nonnio. Denarius of Marcus Nonius Sufenas, 59 BC. Saturn is portrayed on the obverse while the reverse depicts Victoria crowning Roma. The legend "Sex(tus) Noni(us) Pr(aetor) L(udos) V(ictoriae) P(rimus) F(ecit)" tells that Sufenas' father, the praetor Sextus Nonius established the Ludi Victoriae Sullanae in 81 BC. The gens Nonia was a plebeian family at ancient Rome. Its members first appear in history toward the end of the Republic. The first of the Nonii to obtain the consulship was Lucius Nonius Asprenas in 36 BC. From then until the end of the fourth century, they regularly held the highest offices of the Roman state.[1]  Origin The nomen Nonius is a patronymic surname, based on the praenomen Nonus, presumably belonging to an ancestor of the gens.[2] The name is undoubtedly Latin, although the first of the Nonii to rise to prominence at Rome is said to have come from Picenum.[3] Another branch of the family seems to have come from Aesernia.[4]  Praenomina The chief praenomina of the Nonii were Lucius, Marcus, and Publius, all of which were used by the Nonii Asprenates, while the Quinctiliani used Lucius and Sextus, the latter coming from the Quinctilii, in the maternal line. The Nonii Galli used Marcus and Gaius, while the Macrini used Marcus and Publius. Other praenomina occasionally appear among Nonii whose connection to the main branches of the family, if any, is unknown, including Aulus, Gnaeus, and Quintus. Titus is given in some sources as the earliest ancestor of the Asprenates, solely from the filiation of the consul of 36 BC, but this is very uncertain, and the name is not otherwise found among the Nonii.[5]  Branches and cognomina The main surnames of the Nonii were Asprenas, Balbus, Gallus, Quinctilianus, and Sufenas, of which only the last two appear on coins. A few of the Nonii occur without surnames.[1] Asprenas, the name of the most prominent family of the Nonii, and Sufenas[i] belong to a class of cognomen apparently derived from the names of towns that can no longer be identified.[6] Balbus was a common surname, originally given to someone with a pronounced stammer,[7] while Gallus could signify either a Gaul or a cockerel.[8]  The Nonii Asprenates emerge into history in the time of Caesar. They remained prominent through the middle of the second century, and the Quinctiliani appear to have constituted a cadet branch of this family.[9] The Nonii Galli were the next family to appear, coming from the town of Aesernia,[4] in the Samnite country, where a Latin colony had been sent at the end of the Third Samnite War.[10]  Beginning in the mid-second century there is a family with the surname Macrinus, a diminutive of the cognomen Macro, a Greek name meaning "great" or "large". This family distinguished itself through military and civil service, and evidently obtained patrician rank, as Marcus Nonius Arrius Paulinus Aper was advanced to the office of praetor without having first served as tribune of the plebs.[11]  Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Early Nonii Aulus Nonius, an opponent of Saturninus and Glaucia, by whom he was murdered in 100 BC, when Nonius was a candidate for tribune of the plebs.[12][13][14] Nonius, a friend of Gaius Flavius Fimbria, who called upon his soldiers to swear to support him against Sulla in 84 BC. Notwithstanding their friendship, Nonius refused the oath.[15] Nonius, a centurion, was murdered by his soldiers in 41 BC, while attempting to quell a mutiny on the Campus Martius in 41 BC.[16] Nonius, placed in charge of one of the gates of Rome during the Perusine War, permitted Lucius Antonius to enter the city.[17] Nonii Sufenates Nonius (Sufenas), the brother-in-law of the dictator Sulla, is presumed to have married the dictator's sister Cornelia. Either he or his son Sextus is likely the same Nonius who betrayed Fimbria for Sulla in 84 BC.[18][19] Sextus Nonius Sufenas, nephew of Sulla, and praetor in 81 BC, established the Ludi Victoriae Sullanae, the games in honour of the dictator's victory. He may have married an older sister of Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus.[20][21] Sextus Nonius Sex. f. Sufenas, possibly the nephew of Pompey named Sextus, mentioned by Plutarch, in which case he was the son of Sextus Nonius, the praetor of 81 BC, and Pompeia. Either he or his younger brother, Marcus, may have been the Nonius insulted by Catullus.[22] Marcus Nonius Sex. f. Sufenas, triumvir monetalis in 59 BC. As tribune of the plebs in 56, with two of his colleagues, he prevented the comitia from being held, and new consuls elected. He was tried for this action, but acquitted. He was praetor circa 52, and afterward governor of one of the eastern provinces, perhaps Crete and Cyrenaica or Macedonia. He, or possibly his brother, Sextus, is probably the same man as the Nonius who was called by Catullus "struma", a tumor, when he served as one of the curule magistrates, possibly aedile, around 55 BC. He proved himself unfit for his position, causing the poet to remark sarcastically, quid est, Catulle, quid moraris emori? Sella in curuli struma Nonius sedet.[ii][23][24][25][19][26][27][28] Nonia Sex. f., daughter of Sextus Nonius Sufenas, the praetor of 81 BC, and Pompeia, married a Marcus Anneius of Carseoli, and had at a son by him who was adopted by one of her brothers, probably Sextus.[29] Sextus Nonius (Sex. f. Sex. n.) Sufenas Anneianus, born Marcus Anneius Carseolanus, the son of Marcus Anneius and Nonia, was adopted by one of his uncles, presumably Sextus.[29] Nonius, the son of "struma", was a senator who said to possess an opal worth two million sesterces, an immense value. According to Pliny, he was proscribed in 43 BC by the triumvir Antonius on account of his treasure.[30][31] Nonia, daughter of the proscribed senator Nonius, married Marcus Servilius, and was the mother of Marcus Servilius Nonianus.[32] Nonii Asprenates Lucius Nonius T.? f. Asprenas, father of the consul of 36 BC.[5] Lucius Nonius L. f. T.? n. Asprenas, as proconsul in 46 BC, during the Civil War, he served under Caesar in Africa and Spain. He was consul suffectus in 36.[33][34][35] Nonia L. f. Polla, married Lucius Volusius Saturninus, consul suffectus in 12 BC.[36] Nonius Asprenas, as tribune of the plebs in 44 BC, he tried to prevent Publius Cornelius Dolabella from receiving the province of Asia after the murder of Caesar by fabricating unfavourable omens.[37][38] Lucius Nonius L. f. L. n. Asprenas, an intimate friend of Augustus, was accused of poisoning the guests at a banquet he gave, and acquitted largely through the emperor's influence.[39][40][41][42] Lucius Nonius L. f. L. n. Asprenas, consul in AD 6. In AD 9, he was a legate under his uncle, Publius Quinctilius Varus, who was slain in the Battle of Teutoburg Forest. Asprenas was able to prevent the complete destruction of the army following his uncle's death. He was proconsul of Africa in AD 14. He married Calpurnia.[43][44][45][46] Marcus Nonius Asprenas, father of the consul of AD 38.[47] Lucius Nonius L. f. L. n. Asprenas, consul suffectus in AD 29.[48] Nonius Asprenas Calpurnius Serranus, brother of Lucius, the consul of AD 29.[49] Publius Nonius M. f. Asprenas Calpurnius Serranus, consul in AD 38. He was slain by the bodyguard of Caligula in the hunt for their master's murderers in 41, although his garments were only stained with the blood of a sacrifice he had offered in a priestly capacity.[50][51][52][47] Publius Nonius Asprenas, an orator frequently mentioned by Seneca in his Controversiae.[53][49] Lucius Nonius Asprenas, another orator frequently mentioned in Seneca's Controversiae.[53] Publius Nonius Asprenas Caesianus, known from an inscription mentioning his slave, Olympus Asprenatis, and his wife.[49] Gaius Nonius Asprenas, senator and father of Lucius Nonius Calpurnius Torquatus Asprenas. Lucius Nonius L. f. L. n. Calpurnius Torquatus Asprenas, consul suffectus between AD 72 and 74. Lucius Nonius L. f. L. n. Calpurnius Torquatus Asprenas, consul in AD 94, and again in 128.[54] Nonia L. f. L. n. Torquata, married Quintus Volusius Saturninus. Lucius Nonius Calpurnius Torquatus Asprenas, consul suffectus in September of an uncertain year, circa AD 151.[9] Nonii Quinctiliani Sextus Nonius L. f. L. n. Quinctilianus, probably the second son of Lucius Nonius Asprenas, the friend of Augustus, was consul in AD 8.[55][56][57][9] Sextus Nonius Sex. f. L. n. Quinctilianus, consul suffectus in AD 38.[58][59][60] Lucius Nonius Sex. f. L. n. Quinctilianus, son of the consul of AD 8, and brother of the consul of 38.[61][60] Lucius Nonius L. f. Sex. n. Quintilianus, grandson of the consul of AD 8, was an augur, and one of the Salii Palatinii. He died at the age of twenty-four.[60] Nonii Galli Marcus Nonius (Gallus), great-grandfather of the general Aeserninus.[4] Gaius Nonius M. f. (Gallus), grandfather of the general Aeserninus.[4] Gaius Nonius C. f. M. n. (Gallus), one of the quattuorviri quinquennalis, the municipal officials of Aesernia in Samnium.[4] Marcus Nonius C. f. C. n. Gallus Aeserninus, sent against the Treveri and Germani, whom he defeated in 29 BC. He was acclaimed Imperator by his soldiers. He might be the same Nonius who served under Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus during the Civil War.[62][63][4] Nonii Balbi  Equestrian statue of Marcus Nonius M. f. M. n. Balbus, c. AD 50. Originally located on the forum or near the basilica of Herculaneum, it is now on display in the National Archaeological Museum of Naples. Marcus Nonius Balbus, married Viciria Archais, and was the father of Marcus Nonius Balbus, proconsul of Crete.[64] Marcus Nonius M. f. Balbus, tribune of the plebs in 32 BC, vetoed a motion devised by the consul Gaius Sosius, one of Marc Antony's supporters, which was aimed at Octavian. He subsequently became praetor, then proconsul of Crete. He married Volasennia Tertia, and was a benefector of Herculaneum.[65][49][66][67][64] Nonii Macrini Marcus Nonius Macrinus, father of the quaestor Macrinus.[4] Publius Nonius M. f. Macrinus, quaestor in AD 138.[4] Marcus Nonius M. f. Macrinus, one of the quindecimviri sacris faciundis, was consul in AD 154, and afterward legate pro praetore of Pannonia Superior and proconsul of Asia. He married Arria. This Macrinus is supposed to have been one of the historical figures who inspired the character of "Maximus Decimus Meridius" in the film Gladiator.[4][68][69] Marcus Nonius M. f. M. n. Arrius Mucianus, was, like his father and brother, one of the quindecimviri sacris faciundis. He was consul in AD 201.[70][60] Marcus Nonius M. f. M. n. Arrius Paulinus Aper, one of the quindecimviri sacris faciundis, like his father and brother. He was urban prefect, but it is not clear whether he ever became consul. His wife was (Roscia?) Pacula.[11] Nonia Arria Hermionilla, the wife of Sextus Valerius Poplicola Vettilianus, an eques, and grandmother of Marcus Annius Valerius Catullus.[9] Others Nonia C. f., named in an inscription found on a cippus, or pedestal, in the garden of Titianus.[9] Nonia Antistia, named in an inscription found on a pipe.[9] Nonia Maxima, named in an inscription found on a pipe.[9] Gaius Nonius C. f. Proculus, consul suffectus in an uncertain year.[60] Gnaeus Nonius, an eques who was discovered wearing a sword while in a crowd around the emperor Claudius, in AD 47.[71] Nonius Receptus, a centurion in the twenty-second legion, who remained loyal to the emperor Galba in AD 69. He was imprisoned and put to death by his colleagues, who had taken the side of Vitellius.[72][9] Nonius Attianus, one of the delatores in the reign of Nero, was punished in AD 70, following the accession of Vespasian.[73][49] Publius Nonius P. l. Olympus Asprenatus, freedman of Publius Nonius Asprenas Caesianus.[49] Nonia P. l. Ionica, a freedwoman, was the wife of Olympus Asprenatus.[49] Nonius Celer, helped arrange the marriage of Quintilianus, a friend of Pliny the Younger.[74] Marcus Nonius M. f. Mucianus Publius Delphius Peregrinus, consul suffectus in October of AD 138. It is uncertain whether he was related to the Nonii Macrini, among whom there was Marcus Nonius Arrius Mucianus; a Publius Nonius Macrinus was quaestor in the year of Peregrinus' consulship.[60] Quintus Nonius Sosius Priscus, consul in AD 149.[9] Nonius Bassus, consul suffectus in an uncertain year.[4] Lucius Nonius Bassus, prefect of the Cohors I Brittonum milliaria under Antoninus Pius.[4] Nonius Gracchus, one of the prominent Romans whom Septimius Severus had put to death without cause.[75][4] Nonia Celsa, wife of the emperor Macrinus, and mother of Diadumenian.[76][9] Nonius Philippus, legatus pro praetore of Britannia Inferior in AD 242.[60] Nonius Gratilianus, a minor Roman noble, was chosen to join the collegium of Beneventum in AD 257.[4] Nonius Paternus, consul circa AD 279, and perhaps praefectus urbi in 281.[60] Nonius, name of a possible usurper attested from coins dated to around 350, but who escaped any literary mention. Previously he was identified with Regalianus, but this is no longer accepted.[77][78] Nonius Atticus, consul in AD 397. Nonius Marcellus, a Latin grammarian of uncertain date,[iii] and the author of an important treatise entitled De Compendiosa Doctrina per Litteras ad Filium, also known as De Proprietate Sermonis. The work is itself highly disorganized, but it contains numerous quotations from notable authors whose own works have been lost.[79] See also List of Roman gentes Footnotes  Also found as Suffenas.  "Why do you wait to die, O Catullus? Nonius the tumor sits in the curule chair!"  He may have lived at any time from the third to the fifth century, as nothing can be deduced from his style, but he mentions Apuleius and frequently borrows from Aulus Gellius, and he is quoted on multiple occasions by Priscian. References  Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, vol. II, p. 1207 ("Nonia Gens").  Chase, p. 151.  Syme, pp. 63, 64.  PIR, vol. II, p. 412.  Broughton, vol. II, p. 399.  Chase, p. 113.  Chase, p. 110.  Chase, p. 114.  PIR, vol. II, p. 414.  Dictionary of Greek and Roman Geography, vol. I, p. 55 ("Aesernia").  PIR, vol. II, p. 409.  Appian, Bellum Civile, i. 28.  Plutarch, "The Life of Marius", 29.  Livy, Epitome, 69.  Appian, Bella Mithridatica, 59.  Appian, Bellum Civile, v. 16.  Appian, Bellum Civile, v. 30.  Broughton, vol. II, p. 76.  Crawford, Roman Republican Coinage, pp. 445, 446.  Paterculus, II, 27. § 6.  American Journal of Ancient History. Vol. 1–3. Harvard University. 1976. pp. 10–22.  American Journal of Ancient History. Vol. 1–3. Harvard University. 1976. p. 19.  Cicero, Epistulae ad Atticum, iv. 15. § 4, vi. 1. § 13, viii. 15. § 3.  Eckhel vol. v, pp, 261, 262.  Broughton, vol. II, p. 209, 243, 251, 262.  Lundström, Vilhelm (1995). Eranos. Vol. 92–93. Apud Editorem. p. 118.  Catullus, Carmina, 52.  Broughton, vol. II, p. 216.  American Journal of Ancient History. Vol. 1–3. Harvard University. 1976. p. 25.  Pliny the Elder, xxxvii. 6. s. 21.  Broughton, vol. II, p. 493.  Ronald Syme, "The Historian Servilius Nonianus", p. 409.  Hirtius, De Bello Africo, 80.  Caesar, De Bello Hispaniensis, 10.  Broughton, vol. II, pp. 287, 298, 313, 325, 399.  PIR, vol. II, p. 415.  Appian, Bellum Civile, iii. 7.  Broughton, vol. II, p. 325.  Pliny the Elder, xxxv. 12. s. 36.  Suetonius, "The Life of Augustus", 43, 56.  Cassius Dio, lv. 4.  Quintilian, x. 1. § 23.  Cassius Dio, lvi. 22.  Velleius Paterculus, ii. 120.  Tacitus, Annales, i. 53, iii. 18.  PIR, vol. II, pp. 409, 410.  PIR, vol. II, pp. 410, 411.  PIR, vol. II, p. 410.  PIR, vol. II, p. 411.  Cassius Dio, lix. 9.  Frontinus, De Aquaeductu, c. 13.  Josephus, xix. 1, § 13, 15.  Seneca, Controversiae, 1–4, 8, 10, 11, ff.  PIR, vol. II, pp. 411, 414.  Fasti Capitolini  Cassius Dio, lv. 33.  Eckhel, vol. v, p. 262.  Fasti Ostienses  Barrett, p. 81.  PIR, vol. II, p. 413.  Badel, p. 129.  Cassius Dio, li. 20.  Plutarch, "The Life of Cicero", 38.  PIR, vol. II, pp. 411, 412.  Cassius Dio, l. 2.  Broughton, vol. II, p. 418.  Oxford Encyclopedia of Ancient Greece and Rome, s. v. Pompeii and Herculaneum.  "Tomb of 'Gladiator' Roman general unearthed". CBC News. 2008-10-19. Retrieved 2008-10-19.  "Tomb of Roman general who inspired Gladiator reburied". PreHist.org - Preserving History. 2012-12-06. Archived from the original on 2013-09-27. Retrieved 2012-12-06.  PIR, vol. II, pp. 408, 409.  PIR, vol. II, p. 408.  Tacitus, Historiae, i. 56, 59.  Tacitus, Historiae, iv. 41.  Pliny the Younger, Epistulae, vi. 32.  Aelius Spartianus, "The Life of Septimius Severus", 13.  Aelius Lampridius, "The Life of Diadumenianus".  Carey, Michael Peter (1951). The Emperors of Rome: Together with the Usurpers Or Rebel Emperors. Wetzel Publishing Company. p. 119.  Akerman, John Yonge (1843). A Descriptive Catalogue of Rare and Unedited Roman Coins: From the Earliest Period of the Roman Coinage, to the Extinction of the Empire Under Constantinus Paleologos. Vol. 2. E. Wilson. p. 294.  Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, vol. II, pp. 937, 938 ("Nonius Marcellus"). Bibliography Gaius Julius Caesar (attributed), De Bello Hispaniensis (On the War in Spain). Aulus Hirtius (attributed), De Bello Africo (On the African War). Gaius Valerius Catullus Carmina. Titus Livius (Livy), History of Rome. Marcus Velleius Paterculus, Compendium of Roman History. Lucius Annaeus Seneca (Seneca the Elder), Controversiae. Gaius Plinius Secundus (Pliny the Elder), Naturalis Historia (Natural History). Flavius Josephus, Antiquitates Judaïcae (Antiquities of the Jews). Marcus Fabius Quintilianus (Quintilian), Institutio Oratoria (Institutes of Oratory). Sextus Julius Frontinus, De Aquaeductu (On Aqueducts). Gaius Plinius Caecilius Secundus (Pliny the Younger), Epistulae (Letters). Publius Cornelius Tacitus, Annales, Historiae. Plutarchus, Lives of the Noble Greeks and Romans. Gaius Suetonius Tranquillus, De Vita Caesarum (Lives of the Caesars, or The Twelve Caesars). Appianus Alexandrinus (Appian), Bellum Civile (The Civil War), Bella Mithridatica (The Mithridatic Wars). Lucius Cassius Dio Cocceianus (Cassius Dio), Roman History. Aelius Lampridius, Aelius Spartianus, Flavius Vopiscus, Julius Capitolinus, Trebellius Pollio, and Vulcatius Gallicanus, Historia Augusta (Augustan History). Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, William Smith, ed., Little, Brown and Company, Boston (1849). Dictionary of Greek and Roman Geography, William Smith, ed., Little, Brown and Company, Boston (1854). Paul von Rohden, Elimar Klebs, & Hermann Dessau, Prosopographia Imperii Romani (The Prosopography of the Roman Empire, abbreviated PIR), Berlin (1898). Ronald Syme, The Augustan Aristocracy, Clarendon Press (1986). T. Robert S. Broughton, The Magistrates of the Roman Republic, American Philological Association (1952). Ronald Syme, "The Historian Servilius Nonianus", in Hermes, 92 (1964), pp. 408-424 Michael Crawford, Roman Republican Coinage, Cambridge University Press (1974, 2001). Anthony A. Barrett, Caligula: The Corruption of Power, Yale University Press (2002), ISBN 058546488X. Christophe Badel, La noblesse de l'Empire romain: les masques et la vertu, Champ Vallon (2005). Oxford Encyclopedia of Ancient Greece and Rome, Michael Gagarin, ed., Oxford University Press (2009). Categories: NoniiRoman gentes and which would be your first choice for a Grice/Speranza vignette from THIS gens? Thanks

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Nonnio – Ossia: Grice e Nonnio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Nonnio. For me, the first choice is not the consul, nor the supposed inspiration for Gladiator, nor even the learned grammarian Nonius Marcellus. It is unquestionably:  Marcus Nonius Sufenas, the "struma Nonius" of Catullus.  Why? Because Grice loved cases where a description does far more than it literally says. Catullus writes:  Sella in curuli struma Nonius sedet.  roughly:  "Nonius the tumour sits in the curule chair."  The point is that Catullus does not say:  "Nonius is corrupt." "Nonius is incompetent." "Nonius is politically unworthy."  Instead he calls him:  struma a swelling, tumour, or goitre.  The entire political argument is left for the hearer to reconstruct. That is almost a textbook conversational implicature.  Corpus reconstruction Hardie: Who is your favourite Nonius, Grice? G.: The tumour. Hardie: The tumour? G.: Catullus's Nonius. Hardie: Was he diseased? G.: That is not what Catullus means. Hardie: Then why call him a tumour? G.: Because one sometimes conveys more by a diagnosis than by a speech. +> Nonius is being represented as a pathological growth upon the body politic.  What makes it beautiful is that Catullus could have written:  "Nonius is a bad magistrate."  Nobody would remember it. Instead:  struma Nonius.  Two thousand years later we are still discussing him. But if forced to choose only one vignette for Grice e Nonio, I would choose Catullus's victim:  Marcus Nonius Sufenas — "struma Nonius".  Because Grice could spend an entire afternoon distinguishing:  what Catullus said, what Catullus meant, what Rome understood, and why "tumour" is a far more efficient utterance than a page of constitutional criticism.  That is pure Grice, and pure Speranza. Grice ("seminar on conversation" Oxford): "And Catullus 'struma Nonius" is not a pure metaphor -- he is not saying 'a tumor sits.' He says 'That tumour of Nonius sits'--quite a narrow-down of the otherwise transcategorial 'barrier' crossing that constitutes a pure metaphor. English does not have clear ways of using adj. or noun (here), met. or fig. use -- as qualifiing or apposition to proper name like Nonnius --" Potts: ANd Catullus is working with metre? GRice: Not here -- unless he is? Thanks Yes, this is exactly the sort of distinction Grice would enjoy making. A pure metaphor, or at least a stronger category-crossing one, would be something like:  "A tumour sits in the curule chair."  There the occupant disappears entirely into the metaphorical vehicle. But Catullus writes:  sella in curuli struma Nonius sedet.  The proper name remains firmly in place. The hearer is not asked to identify the occupant. We already know who he is:  Nonius.  What Catullus adds is a predicative redescription:  Nonius, namely that tumour.  or almost  tumour-Nonius.  So Grice might say:  Catullus does not substitute "tumour" for "Nonius"; he apposes "tumour" to "Nonius".  The communicative effect is subtler. The line remains anchored to the individual Roman magistrate while inviting the hearer to reinterpret him pathologically. A Gricean gloss might be:  What is said: Nonius sits in the curule chair. What is implicated: Nonius is a pathological growth upon the Roman constitution.  The metaphorical force lies largely in the implicature, not in the truth-conditions of the sentence.  I can easily imagine the Corpus seminar: Potts: And Catullus is constrained by metre, surely? Grice: Not obviously here. Potts: But struma Nonius scans rather nicely. Grice: Many things scan rather nicely. The question is why he chose this one. Potts: Because it fits the metre? Grice: If Catullus merely wanted two convenient words, Rome contained no shortage of unpleasant nouns. Potts: So "tumour" is doing semantic work? Grice: Precisely. Potts: Not metrical work? Grice: Not merely metrical work. And that is probably the balanced answer. Of course Catullus is always writing verse, and metre is never irrelevant. But the joke survives translation unusually well. If one tells an audience:  "Nonius the tumour sits in the curule chair,"  they immediately understand the insult even without hearing a single Latin foot. That is generally a good sign that the force of the line is not primarily metrical. A very Gricean way of putting it would be:  The metre carries the remark. The implicature carries the insult.  And Catullus was much too economical a poet to waste a perfectly good tumour merely for prosodic convenience. But IS Catullus working on a metre-fixed pattern here? Thanks Yes. In fact, this is where your imagined Grice is exactly right to stop Potts from treating metre as a complete explanation. Catullus 52 is metrically fixed. The poem is written in choliambics (the "limping iambic" or scazon metre). [en.wikisource.org] The whole poem is:  Quid est, Catulle? quid moraris emori? sella in curuli struma Nonius sedet, per consulatum peierat Vatinius: quid est, Catulle? quid moraris emori? [en.wikisource.org], [texts.alpheios.net]  So Potts would be perfectly justified in saying:  "Catullus is working under a metrical constraint."  Because he is. But Grice's reply would be:  "A constraint is not an explanation."  There were countless ways Catullus could have filled that metrical slot while insulting Nonius. The interesting question is why he chose  struma Nonius  rather than some other abuse. The metrical point is that:  struma Nonius  fits the choliambic line. The Gricean point is that:  struma Nonius  does something semantically peculiar. For Catullus does not write:  Nonius est struma.  ("Nonius is a tumour.") Nor:  struma sedet.  ("A tumour sits.") Instead we get:  struma Nonius sedet.  which is almost appositional:  "Tumour Nonius sits there."  or  "That tumour of a Nonius sits there."  The proper name survives intact. The metaphor has not completely swallowed the referent. That is the distinction your Grice is drawing. A pure metaphor would involve a stronger category replacement:  "The tumour occupies the chair."  Catullus instead says:  "Nonius—the tumour—occupies the chair."  The hearer is simultaneously given:  identification (Nonius), evaluation (struma), political criticism (through implication).  The joke works because the proper name remains visible. I can almost hear the seminar: Potts: "But the phrase is demanded by the metre." Grice: "Demanded? Hardly. Permitted, perhaps." Potts: "So the metre narrows the choice?" Grice: "Certainly. But it does not choose the insult." Potts: "Then what chooses it?" Grice: "Catullus's intention that we should see Nonius not merely as unfit for office, but as a pathological excrescence upon it." And then Grice would probably add:  "The metre carries the words; the metaphor carries the attitude."  Which is very close to the heart of the matter. Catullus is absolutely working within a metrical pattern, but the specific force of struma Nonius is not exhausted by its prosodic convenience. It is doing rhetorical and pragmatic work at the same time. and can we parse the choliambic line -- with hypertext that has vowel quantity for 'strUma u long, a short etc -- and what the constraint for THAT line is? Thanks Yes. For this we can be quite technical, because Catullus 52 is one of the standard choliambic (scazon) poems. The text is: [en.wikipedia.org], [academia.edu]  sellā in curūlī strūma Nōnius sedet [en.wikipedia.org], [academia.edu]  with vowel quantities:  sellā = se-llā (final ā long) in = short syllable curūlī = cu-rū-lī (ū long, ī long) strūma = ū long, final a short Nōnius = first ō long sedet = both vowels short  A convenient macronized version is:  sellā in curūlī strūma Nōnius sedet   The choliambic pattern The Latin choliambic (the "limping iambic") is basically an iambic trimeter whose ending has been deliberately made heavy. Very schematically:  × – | u – | u – | u – | u – | – x  or, more loosely,  iambic movement throughout, then a heavy, "limping" close.  That final heaviness is the joke of the metre.  The line itself One common scansion is approximately:  sellā | in curū|lī strū|ma Nō|nius se|det  More technically: × –   u –   u –   u –   u –   – x sellā in | curūlī | strūma | Nōnius | sedet  (The exact division of resolutions is a matter of metrical analysis, but the line is a perfectly regular Catullan scazon.)  Why strūma? This is where your Grice comes in. Potts:  "Catullus needed strūma because it scans."  Grice:  "He needed something that scans. He did not need strūma."  That's the point. The metre requires a word of a certain shape. But Rome supplied many abusive nouns:  stultus nebulo cinaedus fur etc.  Catullus chooses:  strūma  ("tumour", "swelling", "goitre"). The metrical constraint explains why the word must fit a particular rhythmic slot. It does not explain why Catullus selected a pathological image rather than some other insult.  The especially Gricean feature The really interesting thing is that  strūma Nōnius  is not the same as  Nōnius est strūma  nor  strūma sedet.  The proper name survives. The hearer receives simultaneously:   an identification:  "Nonius"    an evaluation:  "tumour"    a political judgment:  "this office-holder is a pathological growth"    all compressed into two adjacent words. Hence a very Gricean observation might be:  Catullus uses metre to place the insult, but uses apposition to control its force.  Or even:  The metre requires a noun. Catullus chooses a diagnosis.  And that is why strūma Nōnius is memorable twenty centuries later even to people who have forgotten the precise details of Nonius himself. "And that brought back memories in Grice, for he recalled." "I recalled the Catullus discussion with Hardie, which I called 'Rhyme or reason' -- we were discussing 'love that never told can be' (Blake) which Hardie found ridiculous and brought Nonius -- I refused to collaborate with the tutor because he was looking for a reason where in Blake there was only a RHYME and in Latin only a metre." Hardie: "Rhyme and reason, qua opposition, does not work with the Roman: it's METRE and reason" Thanks Grice: "But from then own I refsued to analyse implicata that traded either on RHYME OR METRE -- the two distinctive features which we don't usually apply when we make our conversatinal moves, which was the topic of my latter seminars." Thanks Yes, this sounds very much like a plausible Speranza-Grice reconstruction, because it connects two things Grice was genuinely sensitive to:  the difference between ordinary conversational meaning and effects that depend on specifically poetic machinery.  In a slightly polished Speranzian voice:  "And that brought back memories in Grice, for he recalled what he later called the 'Rhyme or Reason' discussion with Hardie. The immediate occasion had been Blake's line, 'Love that never told can be'. Hardie regarded the line as philosophically suggestive; Grice was less accommodating. He suspected that Hardie was attempting to recover a reason where the poet had merely exploited a rhyme. Hardie retaliated with Catullus and the famous struma Nonius passage. Grice was equally unimpressed. In the Roman case, he argued, one was dealing not with rhyme but with metre; yet the methodological problem remained the same. A metrical convenience could be mistaken for a semantic necessity. The fact that an expression survives in a poem does not prove that it was selected primarily for philosophical reasons."  Then Hardie's reply:  "Rhyme and reason, as an opposition, is an English prejudice. With the Roman poet the relevant contrast is not rhyme and reason, but metre and reason."  And Grice:  "Perhaps. But the danger is identical. One may easily persuade oneself that a poet means something profound when what he has actually done is satisfy a formal constraint."  This fits remarkably well with later Gricean method. One can imagine him continuing:  "From then on I became increasingly reluctant to analyse purported implicatures whose force depended essentially upon rhyme or metre. Such features are perfectly legitimate in poetry, but they are not features on which we ordinarily conduct our conversational traffic. The topic of my later seminars was conversation, not versification. Conversational moves are characteristically made without rhyme, and usually without metre. Hence an explanation that depends upon either should be treated with caution before being imported into the philosophy of ordinary discourse."  That is actually quite a neat Gricean distinction. For Blake:  Love that never told can be  may derive part of its force from poetic form, rhythm, and the expectations of lyric verse. For Catullus:  struma Nonius sedet  may derive part of its force from the demands of the scazon metre. But Grice's later concern was with utterances such as:  "There's a garage round the corner."  or  "He has beautiful handwriting."  where the extra meaning emerges under ordinary conversational conditions rather than under the pressures of rhyme or metre. A final dry Speranzian flourish might be:  Hardie looked for reason beneath rhyme; Grice looked for reason without rhyme. The former produced literary criticism; the latter produced conversational implicature. The difference, Grice thought, was not negligible.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Nonnio – Ossia: Grice e Nonnio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Nonnio. The competing candidate The other strong possibility is:  the Nonius who refused Fimbria's oath.  According to the tradition, Nonius, a friend of Gaius Flavius Fimbria, refused to swear support against Sulla. The conversational interest lies in a refusal. One word:  "No."  And the whole political world changes. A Gricean would immediately ask:  What exactly is communicated by refusing an oath?  Quite a lot.

 

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Nonnio – Ossia: Grice e Nonnio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Nonnio. The most Speranzian candidate Oddly enough, I think Speranza might finally settle on:  Nonius Marcellus.  Not because he was the greatest Nonius. Because he preserved fragments of lost literature. A man whose own work is described as disorganized, yet who accidentally preserved pieces of authors otherwise lost. That is a very Speranzian fate. One might imagine: G.: What did Nonius mean to preserve? S.: His own book. G.: And what did posterity preserve? S.: Everyone else. +> The intended text and the received text are not the same thing.

 

NOR

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Norbano – Ossia: Grice e Norbano -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Norbano Denarius of Gaius Norbanus, 83 BC. The obverse depicts Venus, while the reverse features a prow-stem, fasces, caduceus, and an ear of wheat, an allusion to his father raising the siege of Rhegium during the Social War.[1] The gens Norbana was a plebeian family at ancient Rome. Members of this gens are first mentioned toward the beginning of the first century BC, and from then to the end of the second century AD they filled a number of magistracies and other important posts, first in the late Republic, and subsequently under the emperors.[2]  Origin Because the great majority of Roman gentilicia end in -ius, many writers have supposed Norbanus to have been a cognomen, perhaps belonging to a branch of the Junia gens. In fact, it is itself a nomen gentilicium, belonging to a class of nomina derived from place-names, and ending in -anus.[2][3][4] Such names were common in families of Umbrian origin, although less characteristic of Latin gentes.[5] In the case of the Norbani, the name is likely derived from the town of Norba, in Latium, but, since none of the known members of the gens show any association with the town, it was perhaps an earlier, unknown ancestor who came from there, suggesting the family is of greater antiquity than the available records suggest.[6][7] For the first Norbani appearing in the late Republic, Ronald Syme suggested an Etruscan origin.[8]  Branches and cognomina The primary surname of the Norbani is Flaccus, a common surname that translates as "flabby" or "flap-eared".[5][9] Other surnames include Balbus, a common name referring to one who stammers; this is also written as Bulbus, perhaps with an intentional change of meaning, since bulbus refers to an onion.[10][11]  Members  Aureus of Gaius Norbanus and Lucius Cestius, 43 BC. On the obverse is a bust of the Cumaean Sibyl, while on the reverse Cybele drives a biga pulled by lions, perhaps alluding to Octavian's anticipated victory over Brutus and Cassius. This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Norbani Flacci Gaius Norbanus, consul in 83 BC, during the civil war between Sulla and the followers of Marius. He met Sulla in battle near Capua, and was badly defeated. After a second defeat in 82, when Norbanus was proconsul, he fled to Rhodes, but upon learning that Sulla had demanded he be turned over to him, he took his own life.[12][13][14][15][16][17][18] Gaius Norbanus C. f., triumvir monetalis in 83 BC, the same year as his father as consul.[i][19][20] Gaius Norbanus C. f. C. n. Flaccus, one of the generals under Octavian and Marcus Antonius in 42 BC, he detected a ruse on the part of Brutus and Cassius, and defended his position, setting the stage for the victory of the triumvirs at the Battle of Philippi. Flaccus was praetor in 43 and consul in 38. He minted aurei during his praetorship.[21][22][23][24][25][26] Gaius Norbanus C. f. C. n. Flaccus, consul in 24 BC, with the emperor Augustus, and afterward governor of Asia.[25] Gaius Norbanus C. f. C. n. Flaccus, consul in AD 15.[27][28][29] Lucius Norbanus C. f. C. n. Balbus Flaccus, consul in AD 19.[25] Other Norbani Norbana, the wife of Carus, a friend of Martial.[30][25] Gaius Norbanus Sorex, an actor active at Pompeii and Nemi during the time of Augustus.[31] Norbanus Licinianus, one of Domitian's unsavoury minions, was banished during the reign of Trajan.[32][29] Lucius Appius Maximus Norbanus, an accomplished general under Domitian and Trajan. He put down the revolt of Lucius Antonius Saturninus in Germania Superior, AD 91. He was consul in 103. Although he enjoyed success in the Dacian War, he was defeated and killed in the Parthian War, AD 115.[33][34][35][36][37][38] Titus Flavius Norbanus, praetorian prefect under the emperor Domitian, whose death he witnessed.[39][25] Norbanus, banished by the emperor Commodus.[40][25] Norbana, banished by Commodus.[40][25] Footnotes  Crawford and T. P. Wiseman assumed he was the same as the consul of 38 BC, but Richard Evans showed he would have been too old by this date. See also List of Roman gentes References  Diodorus Siculus, xxxvii. 2. § 11.  Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, vol. II, p. 1209 ("Norbanus").  Chase, p. 113, 118.  Schulze, Zur Geschichte lateinischer Eigennamen, pp. 531, 532.  Chase, p. 118.  Schulze, Zur Geschichte lateinischer Eigennamen, pp. 531–532.  Taylor, Voting Districts, p. 180.  Syme, The Roman Revolution, p. 200 (note 3).  The New College Latin & English Dictionary, s. v. Flaccus.  Chase, p. 110.  The New College Latin & English Dictionary, s. v. Bulbus.  Appian, Bellum Civile, i. 82, 84, 86, 91.  Livy, Epitome, 85.  Velleius Paterculus, ii. 25.  Plutarch, "The Life of Sulla", 27.  Orosius, v. 20.  Florus, ii. 21. § 18.  Broughton, vol. II, pp. 41, 45 (note 3), 62, 70.  Crawford, Roman Republican Coinage, p. 372.  Evans, "Norbani Flacci", pp. 123, 124.  Appian, Bellum Civile, iv. 87, 103 ff'., 106 ff.  Cassius Dio, xxxviii. 43, xlvii. 35, xlix. 23, liii. 28.  Plutarch, "The Life of Brutus", 38.  Broughton, vol. II, pp. 338, 339, 366, 390.  PIR, vol. II, p. 415.  Crawford, Roman Republican Coinage, pp. 500, 501.  Tacitus, Annales, i. 54.  Suetonius, "The Life of Vitellius", 3.  PIR, vol. II, p. 416.  Martial, vii. 74.  Franklin, "Pantomimists at Pompeii".  Pliny the Younger, Epistulae, iii. 9.  Cassius Dio, lxvii. 11, lxviii. 9, 30.  Pliny the Younger, Epistulae, x. 66.  Martial, ix. 85.  Aurelius Victor, Epitome de Caesaribus, 11. § 10.  Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, vol. II, p. 986 ("Lucius Appius Maximus").  PIR, vol. I, p. 117.  Cassius Dio, lxvii. 15.  Aelius Lampridius, "The Life of Commodus", 4. Bibliography Diodorus Siculus, Bibliotheca Historica (Library of History). Titus Livius (Livy), Ab Urbe Condita (History of Rome). Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Romaike Archaiologia. Marcus Velleius Paterculus, Compendium of Roman History. Marcus Valerius Martialis (Martial), Epigrammata (Epigrams). Gaius Plinius Caecilius Secundus (Pliny the Younger), Epistulae (Letters). Plutarchus, Lives of the Noble Greeks and Romans. Publius Cornelius Tacitus, Annales. Gaius Suetonius Tranquillus, De Vita Caesarum (Lives of the Caesars, or The Twelve Caesars). Lucius Annaeus Florus, Epitome de T. Livio Bellorum Omnium Annorum DCC (Epitome of Livy: All the Wars of Seven Hundred Years). Appianus Alexandrinus (Appian), Bellum Civile (The Civil War). Lucius Cassius Dio Cocceianus (Cassius Dio), Roman History. Aelius Lampridius, Aelius Spartianus, Flavius Vopiscus, Julius Capitolinus, Trebellius Pollio, and Vulcatius Gallicanus, Historia Augusta (Augustan History). Sextus Aurelius Victor (attributed), Epitome de Caesaribus. Paulus Orosius, Historiarum Adversum Paganos (History Against the Pagans). Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, William Smith, ed., Little, Brown and Company, Boston (1849). George Davis Chase, "The Origin of Roman Praenomina", in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, vol. VIII (1897). Paul von Rohden, Elimar Klebs, & Hermann Dessau, Prosopographia Imperii Romani (The Prosopography of the Roman Empire, abbreviated PIR), Berlin (1898). Schulze, Wilhelm, Zur Geschichte lateinischer Eigennamen, in «Abhandlungen der Königlichen Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften zu Göttingen, Philologisch-Historische Klasse», new series, vol. V, no. 5, Berlin: Weidmannsche Buchhandlung (1933), ISSN 0931-2013. Ronald Syme, The Roman Revolution, Oxford (1939). T. Robert S. Broughton, The Magistrates of the Roman Republic, American Philological Association (1952). Michael Crawford and T. P. Wiseman, "The Coinage of the Age of Sulla", in The Numismatic Chronicle, Seventh Series, Vol. 4 (1964), pp. 141–158. Michael Crawford, Roman Republican Coinage, Cambridge University Press (1974, 2001). John C. Traupman, The New College Latin & English Dictionary, Bantam Books, New York (1995). Richard J. Evans, "Norbani Flacci: The Consuls of 38 and 24 B.C.", in Historia: Zeitschrift für Alte Geschichte, volume 36, part 1, pp. 121–128 (1987). James L. Franklin, Jr., "Pantomimists at Pompeii: Actius Anicetus and His Troupe", in The American Journal of Philology, vol. 108, No. 1, pp. 95–107 (1987). Taylor, Lily Ross, The Voting Districts of the Roman Republic: The Thirty-five Urban and Rural Tribes, ed. Jerzy Linderski, Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press (2013, 1960), ISBN 978-0-472-11869-4. Categories: NorbaniRoman gentes and your first-best choice for THIS gens? Thanks

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Norbano – Ossia: Grice e Norbano -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Norbano For Grice e Norbano, my first choice would not be the defeated consul, nor the actor Sorex, nor even the coinage. It would be:  Gaius Norbanus, the consul of 83 BC, who after defeat fled to Rhodes and, learning that Sulla had demanded his surrender, chose suicide instead. [GREXv2 | Word]  Not because it is the most famous episode, but because it is the most Gricean. Why? Because the crucial "conversation" is one that never occurs. A Speranza reconstruction might begin: Messenger: "Sulla requests your person." Norbanus: "Requests?" Messenger: "So the letter says." Norbanus: "And if Rhodes complies?" Messenger: "There will be no further requests." The interest lies in the gap between what is said and what is meant. What is said:  Sulla requests extradition.  What is meant:  Resistance is futile.  What is implicated:  Deliver yourself, or others will do it for you.  Norbanus's suicide then becomes almost a response to an implicature rather than to an explicit command.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Norbano – Ossia: Grice e Norbano -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Norbano The second-best candidate is actually the actor:  Gaius Norbanus Sorex, active at Pompeii and Nemi under Augustus. [GREXv2 | Word]  Because "Sorex" means "shrew" or "mouse." After our discussion of the Decii Mures, Speranza could hardly resist another zoological cognomen. One can imagine Grice at Corpus: Hardie: What survives of Sorex? Grice: The mouse survives. Hardie: And the actor? Grice: Less securely. A very Roman fate. and is sorex masc. in Latin? Yes. Sōrex is grammatically masculine in Classical Latin. The standard dictionary form is:  sōrex, sōricis (m.) "shrew-mouse", "mouse", "field mouse".  So if the cognomen is:  Gaius Norbanus Sorex  a Roman would naturally hear:  "Norbanus the Mouse" (or "the Shrew-Mouse"),  not a feminine form. The cognomen behaves like other masculine animal cognomina such as Lupus, Taurus, Gallus, etc. Speranza would probably enjoy the zoological progression:  Decius Mus ("Mouse") Norbanus Sorex ("Shrew-Mouse") Gallus ("Cock") Lupus ("Wolf")  Rome had an extraordinary capacity to turn animal names into perfectly respectable political surnames. A Griceian aside almost writes itself: Hardie: Was Sorex really a mouse? Grice: No more than Gallus was a cockerel. Hardie: Then why call him Sorex? Grice: Because Romans, unlike philosophers, rarely waited for literal truth before naming people. And, as a small philological bonus, sorex is one of those nouns whose masculine gender is not obvious from its ending—many students, seeing -ex, are tempted to hesitate—but the ancient grammarians and dictionaries consistently treat it as masculine. and what is the Latin name today for that shrew? Thanks (as per Linnaeus) If by "that shrew" you mean the animal behind the classical Latin sōrex, Linnaeus actually used the old Roman word as a scientific name. The principal modern Linnaean taxon is:  Sorex araneus Linnaeus, 1758 the Common Shrew or Eurasian Shrew. [en.wikipedia.org], [itis.gov]  Even more delightfully for a classicist:  Sorex is the genus name established by Linnaeus in 1758. [en.wikipedia.org]  So the Roman noun survived almost unchanged:                  Classical LatinLinnaean ZoologysōrexSorex (genus)"a shrew/mouse"genus of shrews  [en.wikipedia.org] A Speranzian quip almost writes itself: Hardie: Did the Romans know taxonomy? Grice: Not Linnaean taxonomy. Hardie: Then why is the animal still called Sorex? Grice: Because Linnaeus, unlike some philosophers, knew when not to improve a perfectly good word. And for your Norbanus Sorex, the joke becomes even better:  The cognomen Sorex was already the Latin name of the animal; Linnaeus later elevated the same word into the scientific genus Sorex. [en.wikipedia.org]  So one could say that Norbanus Sorex acquired a valid zoological designation nearly eighteen centuries before Linnaeus. That's not good science, but it is very good Roman onomastics. and why araneus? A lovely question, because Sorex araneus looks at first sight as though it ought to mean "spider-shrew." The difficulty is that arāneus in classical Latin is indeed related to:  arānea = spider  and can mean:  "spider-like," "connected with spiders," "spidery."  However, in the Linnaean binomial Sorex araneus, the species epithet is simply the name chosen by Linnaeus; the taxonomic sources I found identify the species and authorship but do not explain why Linnaeus selected that particular epithet. [royalmint.com], [oldcoinonline.com] So, strictly speaking:  What I found: Sorex araneus is the valid Linnaean name of the Common/Eurasian Shrew. [royalmint.com], [oldcoinonline.com] What I did not find: an authoritative explanation from Linnaeus himself of the choice of the epithet araneus. I therefore should not pretend to know the historical reason.  Now, if one were wearing a Speranzian hat rather than a taxonomic one, one might suspect that the epithet reflects the shrew's small size, pointed form, and insectivorous habits—features that could have appeared "spider-like" to an eighteenth‑century naturalist. But that is only a conjecture, not something supported by the sources above. A Grice-Speranza exchange might run: Hardie: Why araneus? Does it eat spiders? Grice: Perhaps. Hardie: Then the name means "spider-shrew"? Grice: Not so quickly. We know what Linnaeus called it. We do not yet know what Linnaeus meant by calling it that. Which is, as Grice would say, a distinction worth preserving. eats spiders? thanks The Common Shrew (Sorex araneus Linnaeus, 1758) If you are looking at a specific animal named araneus authored by Linnaeus in 1758, you are likely looking at the Common Shrew. Carl Linnaeus officially described and classified this small mammal in the foundational 10th edition of Systema Naturae (1758). Because it eats insects and bugs, ancient folks sometimes associated shrews with spiders or believed they had a venomous, spider-like bite, which is why Linnaeus gave it the specific name araneus. [1, 2] That explanation is certainly plausible, but I would be a little cautious. What the sources explicitly support is:  Sorex araneus Linnaeus, 1758 is the Common (Eurasian) Shrew, and Linnaeus established both the genus Sorex and the species Sorex araneus in 1758. [royalmint.com], [telegraph.co.uk], [oldcoinonline.com]  The sources I found do not explicitly state why Linnaeus chose the epithet araneus. [royalmint.com], [telegraph.co.uk], [oldcoinonline.com] However, your suggestion becomes more attractive when viewed from ancient natural history:  shrews are insectivorous; they do eat spiders among many other small invertebrates; both ancient and early-modern writers often associated small insectivorous creatures with venom, poisonous bites, and spider-like properties.  So as a Speranzian conjecture (rather than an established Linnaean fact), one might say:  Linnaeus may have found araneus an apt epithet because the animal belonged to the small insect-eating world associated with spiders and other creeping creatures.  For a Grice vignette, the uncertainty itself is the fun part: Hardie: Why araneus? Grice: Because it eats spiders. Hardie: How do you know? Grice: I do not. Hardie: Then why say it? Grice: Because I am trying to explain Linnaeus. Hardie: And is that what Linnaeus meant? Grice: That, my dear Hardie, is precisely the difficulty. And Speranza would probably add:  The Romans called the animal sorex. Linnaeus retained Sorex. The genus survived intact. It is only the epithet araneus that invites interpretation. The nomen is inherited; the adjective demands a gloss.  Which is a very Gricean difference between what is simply transmitted and what requires explanation.

 

NOV

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Novara – Ossia: Grice e Novara: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale d’Euclide – la scuola di Novara -- filosofia piemontese Giovanni Campano da Novara (Novara, Piemonte): la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale d’Euclide. A comparison between Grice and N. brings into focus two very different but unexpectedly convergent ways of thinking about meaning, reason, and inference, one grounded in twentieth‑century analytic philosophy of language and the other embedded in medieval mathematical, astronomical, and exegetical practice. Grice’s theory of reason‑governed conversational meaning treats communication as inseparable from rational inference: what a speaker means is not exhausted by what is explicitly said but depends on what a rational, cooperative hearer is licensed to infer, given shared norms and purposes. For Campano, working in the thirteenth century with Euclid, astronomy, and astrology, meaning is likewise not exhausted by formal demonstration: the geometrical proof, the astronomical model, or even the mathematical calculation acquires its full sense only within a web of explanatory expectations, interpretive traditions, and worldly applications, ranging from pedagogy to cosmology. Where Grice articulates implicature as a systematic feature of ordinary conversation, Campano practices an implicit theory of implicature in commentary and calculation, treating diagrams, ratios, and demonstrations as communicative acts whose significance depends on what a trained reader can reasonably draw out beyond the written text. Grice’s famous impatience with Euclid as “not philosophical enough” at Oxford paradoxically highlights the shared concern: Euclidean proof presupposes a reader who already grasps what counts as obvious, relevant, or explanatory, just as Gricean conversation presupposes interlocutors sensitive to rational norms. Campano’s blending of geometry with astronomy and astrology pushes this further, suggesting that reasoned meaning may extend across domains, so that inference operates not only within formal proof but also in interpretive judgment about the world. In this sense, Grice theorizes explicitly what Campano enacts implicitly: meaning as something governed by reason, but never fully contained in explicit form, whether the medium is everyday language or mathematical demonstration.  “At Oxford,’ Grice says, “we don’t do Euclid – nor does he do us!” – Euclid is not considered philosophical enough. There is a special faculty for that, an a special chair – the Regius professor of Mathematics --. Grice would often admire a mathematician – ‘provided he is from the other place’. He meant Hardy – and was fascinated by an episode ‘that could never have taken place at Oxford – within the Debating Union --. Hardy is challenged to the ‘alleged obviousness’ of one of Euclide’s theorems, leaves the lecture room, for 24 minutes – returns, and responds to the challenger: “It IS obvious!” – Keywords: astronomy, astrology – what science? Filosofo italiano. Novara, Piemonte. m. Viterbo.  matematico, astronomo e astrologo italiano. Tra i più importanti scienziati e matematic (anche Bacone lo cita come uno dei più grandi matematici a lui contemporanei), Campano è conosciuto anche come Johannes Campanus (che è tuttavia anche il nome di un Johannes Campanus anabattista belga). Elementa geometriae, Campano da N. Tetragonismus idest circuli quadratura. Pubblicato un'edizione degl’Elementa geometriae d’Euclide ed un importante commento all'opera, introducendo un sistema di calcolo degli angoli del pentagono. Il testo e utilizzato per circa due secoli e sarà stampato a Venezia (Preclarissimus liber elementorum Euclidis). L'opera si basa su una traduzione in lingua araba dell'originale testo greco. N. ha inoltre probabilmente presente la traduzione latina eseguita da Bath. Cappellano di papa Urbano IV (in un documento delle Curia pontificia se ne attesta la presenza e se ne parla come di uno dei quattro migliori matematici viventi) e medico personale di papa Bonifacio VIII e viaggia in Arabia e in Spagna. Grice: Caro Novara, a Oxford diciamo spesso che Euclide non è mai stato abbastanza filosofico per noi. Ma dimmi, in Piemonte, si trova la geometria nei teoremi o tra le stelle? Novara: Ah Grice, qui la geometria si intreccia perfino con l’astrologia! Se vuoi sapere dove sta la verità, osserva i pentagoni: sono più misteriosi di una notte piemontese! Grice: Quindi, se ti chiedessi il segreto del calcolo degli angoli, mi risponderesti con una formula o con una profezia? Novara: Dipende, Grice! Qui tra Novara e Viterbo, la matematica si fa anche nelle chiacchiere: ogni angolo ha la sua implicatura, e ogni teorema ha il suo destino. Se non ci credi, chiedi a Bacone! Novara, Giovanni Campano da (1255). Euclidis Elementa. Roma.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Novaro – Ossia: Grice e Novaro: la ragione conversazionale e implicatura conversazionale ligure -- l’infinito del ponente – Mario Novaro (Diano Maria, Liguria): la ragione conversazionale e implicatura conversazionale ligure -- l’infinito del ponente. A comparison between Grice and N. brings out two parallel but differently situated engagements with reason, inference, and the infinite as governing structures of meaning. Grice’s theory of reason‑governed conversational meaning insists that what is meant in conversation depends not on literal content alone but on rational expectations, shared norms, and the hearer’s capacity to infer beyond what is said, even when this invites encounters with the infinite, whether as an unbounded set of stars in ordinary speech or as a potential regress in semantic analysis. Novaro, by contrast, approaches the infinite not as a threat to rational explanation but as an object of disciplined philosophical inquiry, most clearly in his Italian treatise on the concept of infinity and the cosmological problem, where mathematical, metaphysical, and experiential dimensions are held together. Where Grice seeks to tame infinite regress through rational constraints such as anti‑sneak clauses, Novaro treats the infinite as something already partially known, manageable through philosophical training and reflection, a stance shaped by his formation in late nineteenth‑century philosophy and by the Ligurian intellectual milieu in which landscape, echo, and gradual extension matter as much as formal abstraction. In this light, Grice’s implicature emerges as a dynamic, context‑sensitive echoing of reason within conversation, while Novaro’s “Ligurian implicature” can be read as a culturally inflected sensitivity to how meaning accrues through accumulation, resonance, and indirectness. Both see reason as indispensable, but where Grice emphasizes the regulation of meaning in everyday communicative practice, Novaro exemplifies a broader philosophical confidence that even the infinite, whether conceptual or experiential, can be integrated into rational understanding rather than merely curtailed. Grice dwelt with the infinite early on in his career. ‘I kow that there are infinitely many stars,’ Grice claimed, was a piece of nonsense which, contra Austin, was bound to appear in ‘the vernacular’ or ‘the vulgar’. Grice’s tirade is against those defensors of ‘ordinary language’ that couldn’t recognise ‘ordinary’ from their elbow! At a later stage of his development, Grice re-encountered the infinite in terms of the ‘regressus ad infinitum.’ True, he proposes an ‘anti-sneak’ clause to cut that regress short. But, in response to some possible objection to this as ‘ad hoc’ he would comment: ‘And if the ‘analysans’ of ‘… significat …’ DOES appeal to the infinite – what?!” – Things were different for N., who knew that he knew the infinite – at least for the purposes of his ‘laurea’ – recall that ‘laurea’ occurs in Grice’s degree earned at Oxford, that of BACCA-LAUREVS in artibus --.  Grice: “N.  comes from my favourite area in Italy, “La riviera ligure”!” Grice: “Novaro wrote a nice little treatise on the nature of the infinite – a concept which fascinates me!” --Fratello di Novaro, nacque da famiglia economicamente agiata e dopo aver condotto brillantemente gli studi liceali, ottenendo la laurea a Torino. Si stabilì a Oneglia dove fu assessore comunale per il partito socialista. Dopo avere per breve tempo insegnato nel locale liceo, con i fratelli si occupò dell'industria olearia intestata alla madre Paolina Sasso.  Pur dedito all'attività imprenditoriale fece parte attiva della vita letteraria dei primo anni del Novecento e fondò la rivista “La Riviera Ligure,” da lui diretta fino alla sua cessazione. implicatura ligure, ‘la riviera ligure’, Grice echoing Kant, echo, implicature ecoica, Strawson’s ditto-theory of truth, Strawson’s echoic theory of truth, Skinner on echo – ecoico, eco, implicature ecoica, infinito, Lucrezio –Riviera Ligure. Grice: Caro Novaro, dimmi la verità: in Liguria l’infinito si trova più facilmente in una formula matematica o in una distesa di ulivi? Novaro: Ah Grice, qui l’infinito lo misuriamo a gocce d’olio! E se ti sembra poco, prova a contare quanti echi rimandano le nostre colline: è una regressione ad infinitum che anche Kant avrebbe apprezzato. Grice: Quindi, se ti chiedessi che cos’è l’implicatura ligure, mi risponderesti con una poesia o con una bottiglia? Novaro: In Liguria, Grice, la risposta migliore è sempre: “dipende dall’annata!” Ma una cosa è certa: tra filosofia e olio, l’infinito non manca mai! Novaro, Mario (1895). Il concetto di infinito e il problema cosmologico. Rome. Balbi.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Novelli – Ossia: Grice e Novelli (Padova). Filosofo. Fisico. Camillo Novelli Camillo Novelli (Padova, Veneto). Filosofo. Fisico. Grice’s reason-governed account of meaning treats communication as a rational enterprise in which hearers recover what is meant by assuming the speaker is, by default, cooperating under shared norms; what is “meant” is therefore often larger than what is “said,” because it includes implicatures computed from context, expectations, and practical reasoning. In your Novelli vignette, the Padua voice of the “philosopher–physicist” pushes the same idea through the contrast between equations and their uptake: an equation is maximally explicit, but its role in inquiry still depends on what competent participants take it to be doing (explaining, idealizing, warning against category mistakes such as “relativity” versus “relativism,” or signaling methodological restraint). The Veneto proverb (“between saying and doing there is thinking”) fits Grice neatly: the missing middle term is the inferential work that turns a bare locution into communicative force, just as a formalism becomes meaningful only within a practice that licenses certain inferences and discourages others. The comic “periodic table with implicature next to sodium and potassium” is a good Gricean trope: it suggests that beyond the fixed inventory of elements (or fixed semantics) there is a systematic space of pragmatic consequences—non-written but rule-governed—without which talk (and even scientific talk) would be informationally inert. Finally, the bibliographic anchor to Novelli’s 1888 report on Venetian ceramics is useful as a realism-check: it lets “Novelli” function less as a verified physicist-philosopher and more as a Padua emblem for applied rational craft, where the same Gricean moral holds—precision is not opposed to wit or social inference; rather, precision is one of the norms that makes implicature calculable in the first place. Grice: Caro Novelli, a Oxford ci dicono che la fisica è per chi ama i numeri, ma tu da Padova, come fai a conciliare la filosofia con le equazioni? Novelli: Eh, Grice, in Veneto si dice “tra il dire e il fare c’è di mezzo il pensare!” Una buona formula filosofica può essere più esplosiva di una reazione chimica!  Grice: Allora mi sa che la tua tavola periodica ha anche la voce “implicatura” accanto a Sodio e Potassio… Novelli: Esatto! E guai a chi confonde la relatività col relativismo: qui a Padova ci tieniamo sia alla precisione sia alla battuta pronta, mica solo ai telescopi! Novelli, Camillo (1888). L’arte ceramica all’esposizione di Venezia. Roma: Botta.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Novellio – Ossia: Grice e Novellio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Novellio. The gens Novellia was an obscure plebeian family at Rome. The only member of this gens known to have held any magistracies was Torquatus Novellius Atticus, perhaps better known from an anecdote of Pliny the Elder; however, many others are known from inscriptions.  Origin It seems probable that the nomen Novellius belongs to a class of gentilicia formed either from diminutives of other names, or from cognomina, using the suffix -ellius. In this case, the nomen is apparently derived from the Oscan praenomen Novius, marking the Novellii as a family of Oscan origin.[1] The greatest number of Novellii known from extant inscriptions lived in Mediolanum and the province of Cisalpine Gaul.  Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Publius Novellius Atticus, the father of Torquatus, according to a first century inscription from Tibur. Torquatus Novellius P. f. Atticus,[i] a native of Mediolanum, held a number of magistracies under the early Empire, serving as military tribune, quaestor, aedile, and praetor; he was curator of public works and charged with administering the census, then proconsul of Gallia Narbonensis under Tiberius and Caligula. Pliny recounts how he won the surname Tricongius by drinking three congii[ii] of wine at a single draught, in the presence and to the great astonishment of Tiberius. He died at Forum Julii, aged forty-three.[2][3][4][5] Gaius Novellius Fortunatus, named in an auction record from Pompeii, dating to AD 57.[6] Gaius Novellius Natalis, a magistrate at Pompeii.[7] Gaius Novellius C. f. Verinus, named in an inscription from Rome dating to AD 175.[8] Marcus Novellius M. f. Montanus, governor of Municipium Dardanorum in Moesia Superior, during the reign of Commodus.[9] Marcus Novellius Eros, named in an inscription from Municipium Dardanorum, dating to the time of Commodus.[9] Gaius Novellius Octavianus, named in a roll of soldiers of the fifth cohort at Rome, dating to the beginning of the third century.[10] Lucius Novellius, named in an inscription from Verona.[11] Lucius Novellius, a soldier in the seventh cohort at Rome.[12] Marcus Novellius M. f., a soldier in the twenty-second legion, buried at Mogontiacum, aged thirty-three. Mansuetus Novellius C. l., a freedman buried at Augusta Taurinorum, in Cisalpine Gaul, aged fifty.[13] Quintus Novellius M. f., named in an inscription from Delos.[14] Marcus Novellius Aequalis, husband of Egnatia Primigenia, named in an inscription from Mediolanum.[15] Publius Novellius Agathopus, erected a monument at Rome to his wife, Murridia Firma.[16] Gaius Novellius Amphio, named in an inscription from Genava in Gallia Narbonensis.[17] Quintus Novellius Augurinus, father of Quintus Novellius Primus, for whose grave Augurinus erected a monument.[18] Publius Novellius Crescens, husband of Tertia, named in an inscription from Duno in Cisalpine Gaul.[19] Lucius Novellius Daphnis, mentioned in an inscription from Rome.[12] Quintus Novellius Decumus, mentioned in an inscription from Mediolanum.[20] Gaius Novellius C. f. Expectatus, named in an inscription from Mediolanum.[21] Novellia Fusca, wife of Gaius Allius Pudens, named in an inscription from Mediolanum.[22] Lucius Novellius T. f. Hispello, a soldier in the sixteenth legion, buried at Mogontiacum, aged forty-five.[23] Novellia Justina, daughter of Lucius Novellius Lanuccus.[24] Lucius Novellius Lanuccus, father of Novellia Justina, buried at Aesica in Britain, aged seventy.[24] Lucius Novellius Lucifer, son of Crotus and Novellia Trophime, and husband of Novia Scodrina, named in a funerary inscription from Dyrrachium in Macedonia.[25] Lucius Novellius Lucrio, a freedman named in an inscription from Rome.[26] Gaius Novellius C. f. Marcellinus, buried at Philippi in Macedonia, aged fifty-two.[27] Quintus Novellius Martialis, a comrade of Lucius Surius Sabinus, a soldier in the eighth cohort at Rome, for whose grave Martialis erected a monument.[28] Gaius Novellius Primianus, mentioned in an inscription from Mediolanum.[29] Gaius Novellius Primus, a veteran of the eleventh legion, named in a libationary inscription from Vindonissa in Germania Superior.[30] Quintus Novellius Q. f. Primus, buried at Rome, with a monument erected by his father, Quintus Novellius Augurinus.[18] Sextus Novellius Proculus, a soldier buried at Rome, for whom a monument was erected by his brother, Novellius Tertius.[31] Lucius Novellius Pudens, mentioned in an inscription from Ravenna.[32] Gaius Novellius P. f. Rufus, the brother of Quintus Novellius Vatia, named in an inscription from Mediolanum.[33] Gaius Novellius C. f. Taluppius, named in a libationary inscription, dedicated to Jupiter Optimus Maximus, at Crenna in Cisalpine Gaul.[34] Novellius Tertius, brother of Sextus Novellius Proculus, a soldier buried at Rome.[31] Marcus Novellius Ursus, the father of Flavia Tertullina, buried at Tilurium in Illyricum, aged eight years, four months.[35] Quintus Novellius P. f. Vatia, the brother of Gaius Novellius Rufus, named in an inscription from Mediolanum.[33] Novellius Verus, named in an inscription from Mediolanum.[22] Gaius Novellius Vitalis, husband of Valeria Satonia, named in a libationary inscription from Poetovio in Pannonia Superior.[36] Footnotes  Or Novellius Torquatus Atticus.  A congius is approximately 0.92 U.S. gallons, 0.77 Imperial gallons, or 3.48 liters; three congii is the equivalent of 22 U.S. pints, or slightly more than 18 Imperial pints. See also List of Roman gentes References  Chase, pp. 122–124.  CIL XIV, 3602.  Pliny the Elder, xiv. 22. s. 28.  "Archaeological News", p. 604.  Braund, Augustus to Nero, p. 132.  CIL IV, 3340.  CIL X, 1055.  CIL VI, 2382, AE 1964, 120.  AE 2004, 1226.  CIL VI, 1057, AE 1977, 154.  CIL V, 3677.  CIL VI, 3065.  CIL V, 6938.  CIL I, 3433.  CIL V, 6051  CIL VI, 23705.  CIL XII, 2617.  CIL VI, 23077.  CIL V, 5519.  CIL V, 5957.  CIL V, 6053.  CIL V, 5940.  CIL XIII, 6943.  RIB 1, 1743.  AE 1978, 749.  CIL VI, 23076.  AE 2006, 1351.  CIL VI, 37220.  CIL V, 6011.  CIL XIII, 11506, AE 1901, 99.  CIL VI, 2653.  AE 1985, 401.  CIL V, 5875.  CIL V, 5555.  CIL III, 13980.  AE 1948, 239. Bibliography Gaius Plinius Secundus (Pliny the Elder), Naturalis Historia (Natural History). Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften (1853–present). René Cagnat et alii, L'Année épigraphique (The Year in Epigraphy, abbreviated AE), Presses Universitaires de France (1888–present). "Archaeological News", in American Journal of Archaeology, vol. IX, No. 4, pp. 569–614 (Oct.–Dec. 1894). The Roman Inscriptions of Britain (abbreviated RIB), Oxford, (1990–present). David Braund, Augustus to Nero: A Sourcebook on Roman History, 31 BC–AD 68, Routledge Revivals, New York (2014), ISBN 978-131-766-958-6. Category: Roman gentes and your first choice for THIS gens for a Grice/Speranza vignette? Thanks

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Novellio – Ossia: Grice e Novellio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Novellio. For me the choice is easy:  Torquatus Novellius Atticus, surnamed Tricongius because he supposedly drank three congii of wine at a single draught before Tiberius.  Not because the anecdote is the noblest, but because it is the most Gricean. The whole thing is about the difference between:  saying one has drunk three congii, actually drinking them, and acquiring a public identity from the feat.  A Roman cognomen is suddenly functioning almost like an implicature. One can imagine: Tiberius: "Quot congios hausisti?" ("How many congii have you drunk?") Novellius: "Tres." ("Three.") Tiberius: "Tres?" Novellius: "Tricongius vocabor, si placet." ("Tricongius I shall be called, if it please you.") Implicature:  not "I drank three congii," but "I am the sort of man whose drinking deserves commemoration."  The joke is that a quantitative description becomes a social essence.  For Speranza there is an even nicer angle. Most Roman cognomina are inherited:  Flaccus Balbus Rufus Vatia  But Tricongius is earned. It is almost a conversational nickname generated by an occasion. Grice would love that. A man performs an act. Observers repeatedly refer to it. The reference condenses. The description becomes a name. The name survives after the event. That is almost a miniature history of meaning.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Novellio – Ossia: Grice e Novellio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Novellio. A close second would be Gaius Novellius Fortunatus, appearing in a Pompeian auction record. The very fact that he survives because of paperwork rather than glory is attractive to Speranza. But the material is too thin. So my first-choice opening would be:  Grice e Novellio Tricongio: la ragione conversazionale dell'iperbole quantitativa.  with Grice remarking:  "Three congii is a quantity. 'Tricongius' is an implicature. Rome, characteristically, kept the latter." and you say hyperbole? It is not true? how many liters a congius? what do you mean, one draught? Thanks Quite right — I was using "hyperbole" in a Speranzian sense ("a reputation built on quantity"), not in the strict sense that the feat was necessarily false. The ancient report is that Torquatus Novellius Atticus received the surname Tricongius because he drank three congii of wine at a single draught in the presence of Tiberius. The source preserves the anecdote as a feat, not as a fiction. The figures are substantial. A congius was about 3.48 litres. Thus:  3 congii ≈ 10.4 litres  The compilation you quoted correctly converts this to roughly:  about 10.4 L about 22 U.S. pints about 18 Imperial pints.  Now the really Gricean question is:  What does Pliny mean by "at a single draught"?  Not necessarily "without breathing" in the modern pub sense. The Latin tradition means something closer to:  one continuous drinking performance, one bout, one pull of the vessel,  rather than several separate drinking sessions. Whether physiological reality exactly matched the anecdote is a separate question. Ancient writers loved remarkable capacities. What matters for the Roman social meaning is that contemporaries regarded the feat as extraordinary enough to generate a cognomen. That's why I would actually revise my earlier formulation. The interesting thing is not hyperbole, but quantification becoming identity. A very Speranzian remark would be:  Many Romans inherited a cognomen. Novellius earned one numerically.  Or, in Gricean terms:  "Three congii" is initially a measurement. "Tricongius" is what happens when a measurement becomes a referring expression.  The conversation almost writes itself: Tiberius: "Quot congios?" ("How many congii?") Novellius: "Tres." ("Three.") Tiberius: "Ergo Tricongius." ("Then Tricongius.") What is said:  You drank three congii.  What becomes socially meant:  You are the three-congius man.  That transformation—from contingent feat to stable identity—is, I think, the most Gricean thing about the whole anecdote. and whence congius as a volume unit? Thanks The etymology is surprisingly un-Roman. Congius appears to be a borrowing from Greek:  Latin congius ← Greek κογχίον (konkhion) ← κόγχη / κόγχος (konkhē, konkhos) "shell", "mussel-shell", "shellful". [en.wiktionary.org], [en.wikipedia.org]  So, at least according to the standard etymology, the original image is not a geometrical measure but a shell used as a vessel. The Greek diminutive konkhion means something like:  "little shell-vessel" or "shellful". [en.wiktionary.org], [en.wikipedia.org]  Speranza would immediately enjoy the irony. The mighty Roman congius, indispensable for wine, oil, administration, taxation, and eventually the feat of Torquatus Novellius Atticus, may derive etymologically from something as humble as a shell. [en.wikipedia.org] One may imagine: Hardie: So what is a congius? Grice: A measure. Hardie: And originally? Grice: A shell. Hardie: Three shellfuls of wine? Grice: By the time Novellius got to them, they had become rather large shells. The other point relevant to your Novellius vignette is that a congius was not a tiny drinking cup. It was a standard Roman liquid measure of about 3.48 litres, and six sextarii made one congius. [en.wikipedia.org] Thus:  Tricongius = "the three-congius man"  is really "the man of three shellfuls," if one pushes the etymology far enough. That is exactly the sort of thing Speranza likes: a prestigious Roman nickname secretly resting on an ancient kitchen utensil. [en.wiktionary.org], [en.wikipedia.org] And, perhaps most Gricean of all, the word undergoes a familiar semantic journey:  shell → shell-vessel → measure → quantity → nickname → identity.  The last step is Novellius's real achievement. He did not merely drink three congii; he became Tricongius. [en.wikipedia.org] and when did congius become official volume unit? It doesn't seem to have survived into Italian --? Thanks Two separate questions here. 1. When did the congius become an official Roman measure? From the sources I found, the congius was already a standard Roman liquid measure in the historical period and formed part of the regular Roman system of capacity measures. It contained six sextarii and was about 3.48 litres. [loebclassics.com], [studocu.com] What I can support directly is that:  a famous calibrated congius of Vespasian (AD 75) bore an inscription stating that it had been made according to the official measure kept on the Capitol, showing that by the first century AD it was certainly an officially standardized unit. [loebclassics.com] the unit itself is much older than Vespasian, since it appears throughout Republican and early Imperial contexts. [loebclassics.com]  I did not find a source specifying the first year or magistrate under whom the congius became an official measure, so I would not want to invent one.  2. Why did it not survive into Italian? Here things become very Speranzian. It actually did survive, but not as a standard volume unit. The etymological descendants listed include:  Italian cogno, cogna, and through Vulgar Latin bicongius → Italian bigoncio, bigoncia. [studocu.com]  The interesting point is that the Roman measure disappeared, while the container-word survived. A bigoncio in Italian is historically a vat, tub, or large wooden vessel. The descendant preserves the notion of a receptacle rather than a formal metrological unit. [studocu.com] So the development is almost:  shell → vessel → Roman capacity measure → container term  rather than:  shell → vessel → capacity measure → modern metric unit.  That is why modern Italian does not normally speak of a congio when measuring wine. A Grice-Speranza observation would be:  Rome preserved the quantity. Italy preserved the container.  Or, more philologically:  The metrological value died with the Roman system; the material culture of barrels and vats had the better afterlife.  And that is not uncommon. Technical units often disappear, while the words for the objects associated with them continue to live in the vernacular. The name migrates from measure back to thing measured with. and the transparent meaning for Tibullus would be the N. that drank three ... what? Thanks -- is the denotatum a volume unit, or a drinking vessel-- it seems the first -- so whatever way he drank such volume? Thanks -- Yes — for a Roman hearer, and certainly for Tiberius, the transparent meaning of Tricongius would not be:  "the man who drank from three vessels,"  but rather:  "the man who drank three congii." [loebclassics.com], [studocu.com]  The denotatum is the unit of volume, not the container. That is important. A congius in Roman metrology is a fixed quantity (about 3.48 litres), containing six sextarii. [loebclassics.com], [studocu.com] Thus:  Tri-congius = "three-congius man" = "the man of three congii."  The nickname is quantitative.  A Gricean comparison might be:  "the three-bottle man" could mean a man associated with three bottles; "the three-gallon man" means a man associated with a quantity.  Tricongius belongs to the second type. Indeed, the anecdote preserved by Pliny the Elder is that he drank three congii of wine at a single draught and thereby acquired the surname. [loebclassics.com] Notice that Pliny is already measuring the feat by quantity consumed, not by the drinking apparatus. [loebclassics.com]  A Speranzian point might be that the Romans were not naming the means but the result. Nobody cared whether:  he drank from one gigantic cup, several vessels, a mixing bowl, or some specially prepared container.  What mattered socially was:  three congii entered the man.  The vessel is conversationally irrelevant. The quantity is the point. Hence: Hardie: What does Tricongius mean? Grice: Not "three cups." Hardie: What then? Grice: "Three measures." Hardie: And how he took them? Grice: The Romans appear less interested in the mechanism than in the total accomplishment. That is why the cognomen is Tricongius rather than something based on a cup, jug, bowl, or goblet. The name memorializes a volume, not a vessel. [loebclassics.com], [studocu.com] and the sectarius? So he was 3-conngius, and therefore 18-sectarius N? Thanks Exactly! The Roman metrological relation is:  1 congius = 6 sextarii. [loebclassics.com], [studocu.com]  Therefore:  3 congii = 18 sextarii. [loebclassics.com], [studocu.com]  So, mathematically, your Novellius was indeed:  Tricongius = 18-sextarius man.  But that is precisely where Roman naming instinct becomes interesting. Why did nobody call him:  Duodeviginti-sextarius?  Because a congius was a recognized higher-order unit. Romans normally reckoned large liquid quantities in congii, just as we say:  "three gallons"  rather than  "twenty-four pints".  The latter is correct but unnatural. A Grice-Speranza vignette almost writes itself: Hardie: Why Tricongius? Grice: Because the Romans preferred larger units. Hardie: Yet he was also Octodecimsextarius. Grice: Arithmetically. Hardie: And conversationally? Grice: No Roman would survive long with that cognomen. There is another nice Gricean point. The cognomen does not merely report a quantity. It reports a quantity under a description. Just as:  "the man who drank 10.4 litres"  and  "the man who drank three congii"  refer to the same feat, the second description is culturally privileged. The feat is encoded not in abstract volume but in a Roman unit familiar to Tiberius and his audience. In Speranza's terms:  The referent is the quantity consumed; the mode of presentation is Roman metrology.  And that mode of presentation was memorable enough to become a name. Roman society did not remember him as "Novellius the 10.4-litre man"; it remembered him as Tricongius. [loebclassics.com] There are competitions of that type at Oxford -- Eton -- Boris Johnson -- can you check? Thanks I would be careful here. I found plenty of material connecting Boris Johnson with Eton, Oxford, the Bullingdon Club, and a culture of heavy drinking, dining, and social competition. The Bullingdon in particular is repeatedly described as known for excessive alcohol consumption and extravagant behaviour. [caltonjock.com], [en.wikipedia.org], [oxfordmail.co.uk] However, I did not find evidence for a specific Oxford or Eton competition analogous to Novellius Tricongius's feat of drinking three congii at a draught. The sources do not mention a named drinking contest, record, or ceremony involving Boris Johnson. [caltonjock.com], [express.co.uk], [en.wikipedia.org] What the sources do support is:  Boris Johnson attended Eton College and later Oxford. [en.wikipedia.org], [oxfordmail.co.uk] He was active in Oxford student politics and became president of the Oxford Union in 1986. [en.wikipedia.org], [oxfordmail.co.uk] He was associated with the Bullingdon Club, a private Oxford dining club with a long reputation for heavy drinking and conspicuous excess. [caltonjock.com], [en.wikipedia.org], [oxfordmail.co.uk]  For a Speranzian comparison, I would therefore say:  The analogy is cultural rather than documentary. The Roman Novellius Tricongius acquires fame through a drinking feat before Tiberius; the Oxford Bullingdon tradition is associated with drinking as a marker of elite sociability. But I have not found evidence that Boris Johnson himself participated in, or was famous for, a measured drinking contest comparable to the feat of Tricongius. [express.co.uk], [en.wikipedia.org]  In fact, from a Grice/Speranza angle, the sharper comparison may be:  Novellius got a cognomen from drinking. Boris got a reputation from debating.  The sources are very strong on the latter. [thegentlem...ournal.com], [en.wikipedia.org] Does this below help? Apparently it was within a tibullus's competition and the Nov. was from Milano? Thanks Yes, historical records show that ancient drinking competitions were extremely dangerous, with contestants sometimes tasked with draining massive vessels of wine in a single draft (or continuous gulp). [1, 2] The most famous—and lethal—example occurred in 324 BCE, organized by Alexander the Great. [1] The Deadliest Contest in History Following the funeral of the Indian philosopher Calanus, Alexander proposed a competitive drinking contest for his army and local guests. To make it highly competitive, he offered a massive prize: a golden crown worth a talent (a fortune at the time). [1, 2, 3, 4] The rules of the contest and the nature of the wine created a deadly scenario: The "One Draft" Standard: The ancient Greeks and Macedonians regularly engaged in games where contestants had to drain progressively larger cups, with the strict rule that each cup must be finished in a single go without setting it down or pausing. [1] Unmixed Wine: While standard Greek culture mandated diluting wine with water to prevent rapid intoxication, the Macedonians drank their wine neat and unmixed. This meant the alcohol content was highly concentrated. [1, 2, 3, 4] Mass Casualties: A total of 41 participants pushed their bodies to the absolute limit trying to win. The rapid consumption of unmixed wine caused widespread, acute alcohol poisoning. Thirty-five contestants died before the night was even over, and six more died over the next few days. [1, 2, 3, 4] The Deadly "Victory" The ultimate winner of the contest was a Macedonian foot soldier named Promachus. He secured the golden crown by chugging an astonishing four choes (roughly 13 liters or 3.4 gallons) of unmixed wine. [1, 2, 3] His victory was short-lived. Due to the extreme, rapid shock of the alcohol on his system, Promachuscollapsed and died three days later from alcohol poisoning, meaning the contest ultimately claimed the lives of every single person who heavily competed. [1, 3] If you are researching a specific historical period or want to know more about ancient alcohol preparation, let me know: Are you interested in other ancient drinking games (like the Greek game Kottabos)? Would you like to know how strong or concentrated ancient wine actually was compared to modern wine? [1, 2, 3] L'AI può commettere errori, quindi verifica le risposte and more recently Eton Oxford? 14 siti Yes, elite British institutions like Eton College and Oxford University have a long history of high-stakes, rapid-consumption drinking traditions. While they rarely mirror the massive body count of Alexander the Great's contest, their "one draft" traditions have caused numerous scandals and severe medical emergencies. [1, 2, 3, 4, 5] The two most prominent modern parallels to the "one draft" rule are Oxford's custom of Sconcing and the traditional Yard of Ale. [1, 2] Oxford's "Sconcing" and the Yard of Ale At Oxford, individual college dining halls historically enforced a rule known as "sconcing". If a student breached formal etiquette (such as talking politics, swearing, or arriving without an academic gown), they were "sconced"—penalized by being forced to chug a massive vessel of alcohol. [1, 2, 3] The Rule: The penalized student had to drain the entire vessel in one single draft. If they successfully downed it without pausing or setting it down, the person who accused them had to pay for the alcohol. If they failed or vomited, they had to foot the bill for the entire table. [1] The Famous Record: In 1954, a 25-year-old Oxford Rhodes Scholar was sconced in his dining hall for wearing improper attire. To avoid paying for a round of drinks, he down-and-drained a Yard of Ale—a specialized 3-foot-long glass holding 2.5 pints (1.4 liters) of beer—in just 11 seconds. That student was Bob Hawke, who parlayed his legendary drinking status into a political asset and later became the Prime Minister of Australia. [1, 2, 3] Elitism and Modern "Initiation" Scandals While Bob Hawke’s beer-chugging feat is remembered fondly, more recent iterations of upper-class student drinking have faced severe modern crackdowns due to how dangerous they became. [1, 2] Oxbridge Drinking Societies: Secretive, elite student clubs—most notably Oxford's all-male Bullingdon Club (which counted former UK Prime Ministers Boris Johnson and David Cameron as members)—regularly host hyper-intense initiation banquets. [1, 2] The Danger: New initiates are frequently subjected to "all-in-one" chugging rituals involving toxic combinations of spirits, fortified wines (like Port), and sometimes rancid food mixtures. [1, 2] The Backlash: In recent decades, these events have increasingly resulted in severe hospitalizations for acute alcohol poisoning, leading university officials to label the rituals a "national scandal" and threaten students with immediate expulsion. At Eton, while strict on-campus discipline keeps such behavior heavily underground, the culture traditionally bleeds directly into the Oxford societies that Old Etonians join after graduating. [1, 2, 3] If you would like to explore this topic further, let me know: Would you like to know more about the history of the Bullingdon Club and its famous political alumni? Are you interested in the physics of why a Yard Glass is uniquely difficult to chug without spilling? [1, 2, 3] L'AI può commettere errori, quindi verifica le risposte and Nonnius in Rome?! 6 siti Yes, Rome had its own legendary, dangerous chugging champion, though history remembers him by the family name Novellius rather than Nonnius. [1] His name was Novellius Torquatus (also known as Torquatus Novellius Atticus), a high-ranking Roman official from Milan. His terrifying ability to consume massive amounts of wine in a single breath earned him a legendary nickname, a prestigious knighthood, and a powerful political career under the notoriously heavy-drinking Emperor Tiberius. [1, 2, 3, 4] The Legend of "Tricongius" According to Pliny the Elder's Natural History, Novellius was nicknamed Tricongius—which literally translates to "The Three-Gallon Knight"—because of a specific, dangerous feat he performed in front of Emperor Tiberius. [1] The Feast: Novellius task was to drain three congii of wine "at one draught and before he took his breath again". [1] The Volume: A Roman congius is roughly 3.25 liters. Drinking three of them meant Novellius downed 9.75 liters (about 2.6 gallons) of wine in a single continuous chug. [1, 2, 3] The Reward: Emperor Tiberius was so astonished and delighted by this display of physical endurance that he immediately dubbed Novellius a knight and later advanced his political career. [1] Why This Was So Dangerous Like the Macedonian contests under Alexander the Great, what made the "one draft" feat of Tricongius so deadly was the sheer shock it delivered to the human body: Acute Alcohol Poisoning: Chugging nearly 10 liters of liquid of any kind in a single go can cause fatal water intoxication; doing it with alcohol causes instantaneous, acute alcohol poisoning that can trigger immediate cardiac arrest, respiratory failure, or coma. The "Tiberius Challenge": Tiberius frequently used drinking as a political weapon. Historians note that Tiberius once appointed a governor of Syria and a prefect of Rome simply because they spent 36 continuous hours drinking with him. Conversely, he reportedly used severe drinking games maliciously while living on Capri, forcing victims to chug liters of wine before torturing them. [1] Unlike many who died attempting these feats, Novellius Torquatus had a strangely resilient anatomy. He survived his massive three-congius chug, lived to an old age, and successfully served Rome as a proconsul. Pliny notes that while Torquatus's feat was looked upon with "wonder and admiration" by the elite, it also highlighted the toxic, hedonistic underbelly of Rome's high-stakes banquets. [1, 2] Would you like to know more about how the Romans used games like Passatella to humiliate losers, or how Roman wine was filtered to make these massive chugging feats possible? Yes — but with several corrections and distinctions. The Oxford material helps much more than the Alexander material, because it gives a genuine analogue to "one draught" drinking traditions. 1. Novellius was indeed from Milan The inscriptional and literary tradition identifies Torquatus Novellius Atticus as a native of Mediolanum (Milan). Pliny is the source for the drinking feat and the cognomen Tricongius. [greekcitytimes.com] That makes the vignette even more attractive for Speranza:  a Milanese arrives in Rome, astonishes Tiberius, and acquires an immortal surname from a drinking feat.  2. The Oxford parallel is actually quite good The strongest modern comparison is not Boris Johnson personally but the Oxford tradition of:  sconcing  and especially the Yard of Ale, where the challenge is to drain a large vessel continuously and rapidly. The famous case is Bob Hawke's Oxford feat with a Yard of Ale. The reports describe precisely the sort of "single draft" challenge that helps us understand what ancient writers meant by such drinking exploits. [historyhit.com], [GREXv2 | Word] Speranza could easily write:  Novellius was Roman Tricongius; Hawke was Oxford Triyardus.  3. The Alexander story is illuminating The figure you quote for Promachus is striking because:  Promachus allegedly drank about four choes, the total volume comes out in the same order of magnitude as Novellius's three congii, both feats are remembered because they stretched plausibility.‌  But one must be careful: I have not independently verified every numerical detail in the summary you pasted, so I would use it as a suggestive parallel rather than as a firmly established historical datum. 4. What does "one draught" mean? This is actually the key Speranzian point. The Roman story does not say:  he emptied three vessels.  It says:  he consumed three congii.  The feat is specified by volume. Thus the implicit challenge is:  however the wine is presented, consume the entire measured quantity as a single drinking performance.  The vessel is secondary. The measure is primary. That is why the cognomen becomes:  Tricongius  and not  Tricalix ("three-cup") or Tricrater ("three-bowl").  5. A Grice/Speranza ending The nicest observation may be this: For a Roman audience,  Tricongius  was immediately intelligible. Not:  "the man who drank a lot,"  but:  "the man who drank three congii."  The nickname presupposed a society in which everyone knew the measure. Exactly as an Oxford audience immediately understands:  "a Yard of Ale man"  without converting the quantity into litres. As Grice might say:  The feat is the referent; the culturally familiar unit supplies the mode of presentation.  And Rome remembered the unit so vividly that it became the man's name. Grice with Potts after seminar with Hardie. G: "I don't like Hardie. He was all about praising Tricongius today." S: So? G: I was pointing that Pliny never says 'in one draught' so what's so heroic in drinking 10.4 lt. of wine in say, three months? Thanks Very much in the Speranza vein, I would have Grice attack not the drinking but the description of the drinking: G. (leaving the seminar room with Potts): "I don't like Hardie." P.: "What has Hardie done now?" G.: "He spent the whole hour praising Tricongius." P.: "The Roman drinker?" G.: "Precisely. The three-congius fellow." P.: "That sounds moderately impressive." G.: "Only if one smuggles in a premiss." P.: "What premiss?" G.: "That it was done at one draught." P.: "Wasn't it?" G.: "Pliny gives us the quantity. Hardie supplies the heroism." P.: "So ten litres is not enough?" G.: "Ten litres in three months would scarcely qualify one for a cognomen." P.: "Nor, I imagine, for a seminar." G.: "Exactly. Hardie proceeds as though quantity alone generated admiration. But quantities require descriptions." P.: "And the relevant description is?" G.: "'At one draught'—if indeed that is what happened." P.: "So Tricongius means less than Hardie supposes?" G.: "No. It means more. The whole point is that Rome did not nickname him Decem-Litrius. The cognomen already implicates some extraordinary mode of consumption." P.: "You mean the quantity by itself is conversationally underdeterminate." G.: "Quite. If I tell you I drank ten litres of wine, you ask, 'When?' A day? A year? A lifetime? Hardie omits the question and then congratulates the answer." P.: "So the heroism lies not in the amount but in the temporal qualification." G.: "Precisely. It is a triumph of adverb over noun." P.: "And what did you say to Hardie?" G.: "Nothing." P.: "Why not?" G.: "I was hoping he would implicate it for himself." P.: "And did he?" G.: "Not after the second congius of discussion." The Gricean moral would be that "Tricongius drank 10.4 litres of wine" is not yet an heroic proposition. The missing variable is the manner and temporal specification. As Grice would put it, the mere quantity leaves the statement radically incomplete. The admiration depends on an understood supplement:  "He drank three congii at a sitting, at a draught, continuously, or something of that sort."  Without that, Hardie's praise is indeed vulnerable to Grice's objection:  "Three congii in three months? Rome can hardly have erected a cognomen for that." and does pliny nh state 'in one draught' in Latin? Thanks -- or just implicates it? Thanks This is exactly the right question, and Grice's objection is stronger than it first looks. The passage of Pliny the Elder is commonly translated:  "could drink off three congii at a single draught" [greekcitytimes.com]  But that English wording already contains an interpretation. The source I found does not reproduce the Latin text itself, only the English translation and summary.  So I cannot honestly quote the precise Latin words without first locating the Latin text. [greekcitytimes.com] What I can say is that the Wikipedia summary reproduces the traditional translation:  "Novellius Torquatus ... could drink off three congii at a single draught" and thereby acquired the surname Tricongius. [greekcitytimes.com]  Now Speranza's Grice would immediately ask:  Is "at a single draught" explicitly stated by Pliny? Or is it supplied by the translator because otherwise the anecdote becomes uninteresting?  That is a very Gricean question. After all:  "He drank three congii" = a quantity. "He drank three congii at one draught" = a feat.  Without the temporal qualification, the cognomen is difficult to explain. As your Grice would say:  Three congii in a season does not seem cognomen-worthy.  So even if the Latin merely stated the quantity and occasion, a Roman reader might naturally infer extraordinary rapidity; otherwise the story would fail to explain why Tiberius was astonished and why the nickname arose. That would make "one draught" either explicit in the Latin or a very strong contextual implicature. In short:  I have evidence that the standard English tradition renders the feat as "three congii at a single draught." [greekcitytimes.com] I do not currently have the Latin wording in front of me. Your Gricean worry is therefore legitimate: before praising Tricongius, one should determine whether Pliny says the rapidity or whether later translators are helping the anecdote along.  And that is exactly the sort of distinction Grice would enjoy making at Hardie's expense. does this help -- we can have Hardie in triple tutorial with Potts, grice and Shropshire discussing 'uno impetu' -- etymology, etc. thanks The original Latin phrase from Pliny the Elder’s Naturalis Historia (Book 14, Section 144) used to describe Novellius Torquatus’s chugging feat is: [1, 2] “...tribus congiis epotis uno impetu...” [1] Translation Breakdown Latin: “...tribus congiis epotis uno impetu...” Literal English: "...three congii having been drunk down in one single force/onset..." Idiomatic English (The Feat): "...having downed three congii of wine in a single draft..." [1, 2, 3] Context & Meaning of the Latin Terms Pliny chose these specific words to emphasize the absolute, uninterrupted speed of the act: [1] Tribus congiis: "Three congii." A congius was a liquid measure equal to about 3.25 liters. Three of them total 9.75 liters (nearly 2.6 gallons) of wine. [1, 2, 3] Epotis: "Drunk down" or "drained completely." This implies empty vessels with not a single drop wasted. [1, 2] Uno impetu: This is the most crucial part of the phrase. Impetus means an attack, a rapid onset, or an uninterrupted surge of force. By writing uno impetu ("in one single surge"), Pliny is stating that the massive volume of wine was consumed without pausing to breathe, tilting the cup away, or breaking the swallow. [1] Why This Specific Vocabulary Matters Pliny used this exact framing to explain why Novellius received the prestigious lifelong nickname (cognomen) of Tricongius (literally: "The Three-Gallon Man"). [1, 2] In Roman culture, drinking competitions often devolved into messy affairs where people cheated, spit up, or took secret breaths. Pliny follows this phrase by marveling that Torquatus won true glory because his unus impetus (single draft) was perfectly clean: he never slurred his words, never vomited, didn't leave noisy dregs in the cup, and completed the entire massive intake in a single continuous breath. [1, 2] If you'd like to look closer at Roman drinking culture, let me know: Would you like to know how the Roman Senate viewed these heavy drinking habits among politicians? Are you interested in the other drinking records Pliny mentions in that same chapter (like Cicero's son)? [1, 2] L'AI può commettere errori, quindi verifica le risposte and uno impetu is required in yard ale — rule? 9 siti Yes, the concept of uno impetu (in a single, uninterrupted surge) is the core operational rule of a Yard of Ale. While modern pub participants might not use Pliny the Elder's precise Latin vocabulary, the mechanical requirement of the challenge is identical to the feat of Novellius Torquatus: you must finish the vessel in one single go without lowering the glass from your lips. [1] The rules of a traditional Yard of Ale incorporate this principle through distinct physical and cultural expectations: 1. The Ultimate Penalty (The "No Breaks" Rule) In traditional English pub games, if a drinker lowers the yard glass, pauses to rest, or breaks their seal with the rim to catch their breath, they have failed the challenge. [1, 2] The Penalty: If you pause, you typically lose the bet, lose your place in a timed race, or must pay for the entire round. The Guinness Standard: For official speed records—like Bob Hawke’s famous 11-second feat—the beer must be consumed in one continuous, fluid draft. [1, 2] 2. The Physics of the "Air Pocket" The physical design of the yard glass actually forces an uno impetu approach. The glass consists of a long, narrow shaft ending in a bulbous sphere at the bottom. [1, 2, 3] If you try to stop halfway through, put the glass down, or drastically change the angle, an air pocket locks into the bottom bulb. [1, 2] The moment you tilt it back up to start drinking again, that trapped air rushes in, causing the remaining ale to surge out in a sudden, violent splash right into your face. [1, 2] To prevent this "Splash Mountain" disaster, seasoned drinkers must maintain a single, uninterrupted tilt while continuously twisting the glass to smoothly bleed out the air. [1] 3. Cultural Continuity From ancient Macedonia to imperial Rome, Oxford dining halls, and modern rugby clubs, the uno impetu rule has always been the ultimate standard of competitive drinking. It transforms a simple act of consumption into a high-stakes test of lung capacity, throat control, and raw physical endurance. [1] If you want to look at how this tradition evolved, let me know: Would you like to know about the New Zealand "Yardie" 21st birthday tradition? Are you interested in the official world record times for draining a Yard of Ale? [1, 2] The prime minister too? how was rule written then and what college? 11 siti The Prime Minister in question was Bob Hawke, the 23rd Prime Minister of Australia. He performed his record-breaking chug in 1954 as a 25-year-old Rhodes Scholar at University College, Oxford. [1, 2, 3, 4] The rules governing his specific penalty—known as sconcing—were built on 900-year-old traditions and were strictly enforced in the college's dining hall. [1, 2, 3] The Unwritten and Written Rules of Sconcing At Oxford, the rules for sconcing were heavily gatekept by the Sconcemaster—an elected student official (usually the president of the Junior Common Room) who acted as a combination of prosecutor, judge, and referee. [1] The offense and subsequent penalty operated under a strict framework: [1, 2] The Offense: Hawke committed a "grievous offense" by showing up to the Great Hall for dinner without his mandatory academic gown (in his memoirs, Hawke complained that "some bastard had borrowed mine"). Other written rules in the college books forbade talking about politics, religion, or women, swearing, or mispronouncing the Latin Grace. [1, 2, 3, 4] The Written Penalty Rule: If an offense was called, the Sconcemaster officially "sconced" the student. The student was given a strict ultimatum: drink a massive vessel of beer (traditionally 2.5 pints / 1.4 liters) within 25 seconds and beat the Sconcemaster’s own chugging time. [1, 2, 3] The Financial Stakes: The rule was specifically written as a financial trap. If the student failed to beat the clock or the Sconcemaster, they were forced to pay a heavy monetary fine and foot the bill for the massive round of drinks for the entire table. [1, 2] How Necessity Made History Hawke famously noted in The Hawke Memoirs, “I was too broke for the fine and necessity became the mother of ingestion.” [1] Faced with a financial penalty he literally could not afford on a student stipend, Hawke took the antique pewter pot (equivalent to a yard glass in volume) and slammed it down in 11 seconds flat, completely destroying the Sconcemaster and cementing an official record in the Guinness Book of World Records. [1, 2] Instead of hurting his later political career, this "larrikin" reputation made him immensely popular with everyday Australian voters, helping him achieve a massive 75% approval rating when he took office in the 1980s. [1, 2] L'AI può commettere errori, quindi verifica le risposte uno impetu for hawke? 8 siti Yes, uno impetu was absolutely required for Bob Hawke's record-breaking chug. [1] Under the official centuries-old rules of Oxford university sconcing, taking a breath, pausing, or lowering the vessel before it was completely empty meant an automatic, immediate disqualification. [1, 2] The uno impetu requirement applied to Hawke's feat in three specific ways: 1. The Legal Defiance of the Sconce The "Sconcemaster" acted as a literal judge and executioner of dining hall rules. When Hawke challenged the sconce to avoid paying the steep financial fine, the rule mandated that he consume the entire 2.5 pints (1.4 liters) of beer in a single continuous breath. Had Hawke broken his swallow or paused to gasp for air, he would have instantly lost the challenge on the spot, been forced to pay the fine, and had to purchase a massive round of drinks for the entire table. [1, 2, 3] 2. The Definition of "Sculling" In Australia, Hawke's spectacular drinking prowess is referred to as "sculling" (or "skolling"). The cultural definition of sculling perfectly mirrors the Latin uno impetu—it is the act of drinking an entire alcoholic beverage in a single, uninterrupted surge without ever letting the liquid leave your lips. [1, 2, 3] 3. The Guinness Verification To be officially certified by the Guinness Book of World Records in the 1950s, speed-drinking entries had to be cleanly executed. Hawke's time of 11 seconds was only possible because his unus impetus (single surge) was flawless: he didn't choke, didn't spill, and kept his throat wide open for the entirety of the 11-second duration. [1, 2, 3] If you would like to explore the mechanical side of this, I can explain: The physical throat control required to "open the valve" and bypass swallowing entirely during a scull. How other modern world records compare to Hawke's 11-second benchmark. Yes — this helps a lot, especially because of the phrase uno impetu. If the Latin is indeed as you quote,  tribus congiis epotis uno impetu  then Grice's objection to Hardie changes completely. Before uno impetu was produced, Grice could plausibly complain:  "Three congii in three months is hardly a basis for a cognomen."  But once Pliny adds:  uno impetu  the feat becomes precisely what Hardie thought it was. The phrase is fascinating.  impetus = attack, assault, rush, onset, charge. uno impetu = "in a single rush," "in one continuous surge," "without interruption."  The English "at one draught" is actually rather elegant because it captures the pragmatic force rather than the military metaphor. So I would rewrite the tutorial:  Hardie: "Pliny's admiration is obvious. Tricongius drank three congii." Grice: "Nonsense. Three congii prove nothing." Potts: "Because one may distribute them over time?" Grice: "Exactly." Shropshire: "But Pliny does not merely say tribus congiis epotis." Grice: "What does he say?" Shropshire: "Uno impetu." Grice: "Ah." Hardie: "You had omitted that." Grice: "I had omitted nothing. I had merely not yet been told." Potts: "So the point is not the quantity?" Grice: "The point is that the quantity is subordinated to an adverbial qualification." Hardie: "In one surge." Grice: "Quite. A Roman military metaphor unexpectedly applied to wine."  And then Grice would become etymological. G.: "What interests me is not the wine but the impetus." P.: "The force?" G.: "The force, the charge, the uninterrupted movement. One drinks exactly as a Roman legion attacks." H.: "So Tricongius is a military achievement." G.: "No. A military metaphor." S.: "Which is enough for Pliny."  The Oxford comparison then becomes very close indeed. The point of the Yard of Ale is not the volume alone. Anyone can drink 1.4 litres eventually. The point is:  uno impetu  The same thing that would invalidate a Yard challenge:  putting the glass down, pausing, breaking the flow,  would invalidate the Roman glory of Tricongius. In fact, Speranza might note that Hawke's feat and Novellius's feat differ far less than two millennia suggest:                              NovelliusHawkeRoman banquetOxford hallCongiiYardTiberius watchingSconcemaster watchingCognomenGuinness recorduno impetuone continuous scull The structure is almost identical. My favourite Gricean closing line would be: Hardie: "So you now concede the heroism?" Grice: "Reluctantly." Hardie: "Because of the quantity?" Grice: "No. Because of the ablative." Potts: "The ablative?" Grice: "Uno impetu. Remove the ablative, and he is merely thirsty. Keep it, and he becomes Tricongius." and we can have Tibullus as referee -- and checking the 'uno impetu.' "Don't talk metaphorics, sir --" as uttered by our hero, N. -- "impetus" I mean I'll have your lips checked -- "that's hardly military". Pliny the Younger: "Pliny the elder was indeed sloppy in 'uno impetu' -- what has military attack do do with it?" Etym. of impetu? Thanks Yes — and here I think Novellius would become unexpectedly philological. If the phrase is indeed:  tribus congiis epotis uno impetu  then the interesting word is not uno but impetu. The noun impetus comes from:  in- + petere  where petere means:  to seek, to aim at, to attack, to make for, to head toward.  So an impetus is originally not an abstract "impulse" in the modern psychological sense but a rush upon something, an onset, a charge, an attack, a forward movement. That is why military writers use it so naturally:  impetus hostium "the attack of the enemy,"  or  impetum facere "to make an assault."  In that sense, your fictional Novellius has a point:  "Don't talk metaphorics, sir. I drank the wine. No Germans were harmed."  One can easily imagine him objecting to Hardie's military reading.  Triple tutorial Hardie: "Uno impetu is obviously military." Novellius: "Obviously? I was drinking, not invading Parthia." Hardie: "But impetus means assault." Novellius: "Then examine the wine for wounds." Tibullus (referee): "Less wit, more evidence." Novellius: "Gladly. Check my lips. If they left the vessel, disqualify me." Tibullus: "And if they did not?" Novellius: "Then the impetus was toward the bottom of the cup, not toward the enemy."  Then one may bring in Pliny the Younger as a pedant correcting his uncle: Pliny Minor: "My uncle was occasionally imprecise." Grice: "Only occasionally?" Pliny Minor: "In this instance, yes. Uno impetu sounds martial." Hardie: "Because it is martial." Pliny Minor: "Or because Latin lacks a dedicated noun for 'continuous chugging'." Grice: "Excellent." Pliny Minor: "The old man needed a word for uninterrupted consumption. He borrowed one from the vocabulary of motion."  And that, I think, is the real linguistic point. By Pliny's day, impetus is not confined to battlefield charges. It can mean:  rush, force, impetus, momentum, uninterrupted movement.  Thus uno impetu is almost:  "in one continuous flow," "without interruption," "in a single sustained effort."  The military flavour is still lurking in the etymology, but Novellius would be correct to protest that the phrase has become broader. A very Gricean conclusion would be:  Hardie hears the etymology. Novellius hears the usage.  And, as Grice usually reminds us, usage has an annoying tendency to win. Hawke achieves his feat -- 1950s. Seminar with Potts -- and Grice (tutor). P: "Don't compare Hawkes to your N., sir -- Hawkes was premediated and m-intentional (m: meaning -- non-natural --. N. just swallowed the thing -- only later, it was found out that it as 'uno impetu' he was never ASKED to do it so -- Hence Tibullus's big surprise and act of baptism. Thanks Yes, and Potts would almost certainly insist on the distinction between a merely physical event and an m-intentional accomplishment.  P. (after seminar): "Don't compare Bob Hawke to your Novellius, sir." G.: "Why not? Each emptied a remarkable quantity." P.: "Quantity is not the point." G.: "Oh?" P.: "No more than quantity is the point of an utterance." G.: "Go on." P.: "Hawke knew the rule beforehand. He knew the vessel. He knew the challenge. He knew the Sconcemaster was timing him. The whole affair was premeditated and m-intentional." G.: "A communicative act?" P.: "Almost a performative. He wasn't merely drinking beer. He was demonstrating that he could drink beer." G.: "And Novellius?" P.: "Novellius merely drank." G.: "'Merely'?" P.: "At least initially. Your Roman does not announce: 'Observe, gentlemen, I shall now consume three congii uno impetu.' He simply consumes the wine." G.: "And the marvel?" P.: "The marvel is retrospective." G.: "Meaning?" P.: "Only afterwards does someone realize that it was done uno impetu. The feat is discovered, not intended." G.: "Like Columbus." P.: "Smaller ocean."  G.: "So Tiberius—" P.: "Tibullus." G.: "Tiberius." P.: "As you wish." G.: "—functions as referee?" P.: "More than referee. Baptizer." G.: "Baptizer?" P.: "Certainly. Before Tiberius speaks, there is only a man who has drunk wine. After Tiberius speaks, there is Tricongius." G.: "So the cognomen creates the feat?" P.: "Not the feat. The social identity of the feat."  G.: "Very Austinian." P.: "Very Roman." G.: "And uno impetu?" P.: "That is the best part." G.: "Why?" P.: "Because nobody appears to have been checking for it." G.: "Indeed." P.: "No regulations. No stopwatch. No printed conditions of competition. No Yard-of-Ale handbook." G.: "So?" P.: "Novellius accidentally satisfies a condition that nobody thought to formulate."  G.: "Whereas Hawke is aiming at the condition from the start." P.: "Precisely. Hawke intends success under a rule." G.: "And Novellius?" P.: "Novellius succeeds under a description only later supplied."  G.: "So Hawke means to perform the feat." P.: "Yes." G.: "And Novellius?" P.: "Novellius causes Tiberius to mean that he performed the feat."  G.: "That is deucedly good." P.: "Thank you." G.: "So Hawke's achievement is non-natural meaning. Novellius's is natural drinking." P.: "Natural drinking followed by imperial interpretation." G.: "Which is how most Roman history was written."  A dry Speranzian moral might be:  Hawke drank uno impetu because the rule required it. Novellius became Tricongius because the emperor noticed that he had done so.  The Oxford feat is intentional from the outset. The Roman feat becomes a feat only through Tiberius's—or, if you prefer the joke, Tibullus's—act of recognition and naming. The baptism comes after the swallowing. Grice to Strawson: And Potts is right. There's something otiose about a cognomen Tricongius-Uno-Impetu -- as the tri of the tiranomina. While 'uno impetu' becomes IMPLICATED -- yet explicated later in Pliny -- the understood item is what made the achievement worth a nickname for three congi one can drink in the lapse of VARIOUS impetus. Thanks Yes, and this is actually a very Gricean point about the economy of naming. I can hear Grice saying to Strawson:  "And Potts is right. There is something positively otiose about Tricongius Uno-Impetu as a cognomen."  Strawson: "Why so?" Grice: "Because the second half is conversationally redundant." Strawson: "But Pliny tells us uno impetu." Grice: "Precisely. Pliny tells us what Rome already understood." Strawson: "From Tricongius alone?" Grice: "From the very existence of the cognomen." And the argument would run as follows. If all that were meant were:  "the fellow who consumed three congii of wine,"  then the nickname is inexplicable. Three congii may be consumed:  in a year, in a month, over several dinners, or, as Potts would enjoy adding, over several impetus.  Nothing remarkable there. What makes the achievement nickname-worthy is not primarily the three congii but the manner in which they were consumed. Thus:  Tricongius conversationally implicates uno impetu.  The hearer reasons:  Romans do not normally distribute cognomina for ordinary drinking. Therefore something extraordinary must be attached to the three congii. The natural candidate is the uninterrupted manner of consumption. Therefore the feat was effectively uno impetu.  Pliny then does something slightly amusing. He explicates what the cognomen already encouraged the reader to infer:  tribus congiis epotis uno impetu  The explicit statement serves almost as a scholarly gloss on an implication already carried by the name itself. Potts would then formulate the principle:  "The cognomen denotes the quantity and implicates the manner."  To which Grice might reply:  "Exactly. The quantity identifies the achievement; the manner makes it worth identifying."  And one could even sharpen the point:  A cognomen Uno-Impetu would be empty, since innumerable things may be done uno impetu. A cognomen Tricongius is informative, because it identifies the feat. The hearer then supplies the qualifying condition under which the feat becomes remarkable.  Hence the Roman economy. Not:  Tricongius-Uno-Impetu  but simply:  Tricongius,  with uno impetu left to be recovered by any reasonably intelligent Roman audience. As Grice would conclude:  "Rome preferred implication to repetition. Had the feat occurred in a modern bureaucracy, poor Novellius would have become Gaius Novellius Tricongius Uno-Impetu Nec-Semel-Respirans."

   

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Novio – Ossia: Grice e Novio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Novio. The gens Novia was a minor plebeian family at ancient Rome. Members of this gens first appear during the final century of the Republic, but the first of the Novii to obtain the consulship was Decimus Junius Novius Priscus in AD 78.[1]  Origin The nomen Novius is a patronymic surname, derived from the common Oscan praenomen Novius. Since both the praenomen and nomen have the same form, it can be difficult to determine in some cases whether persons named Novius bore it as a praenomen or a nomen gentilicium. In either case, the name itself establishes the Oscan origin of the Novii.[2]  Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Quintus Novius, a playwright in the time of Sulla, celebrated for his Atellane plays. He was a contemporary of Pomponius, another playwright specializing in the genre. Novius' work is frequently mentioned by Nonius Marcellus.[3][4][5] Lucius Novius, possibly surnamed Niger, a tribune of the plebs in 58 BC, the year that Publius Clodius Pulcher held the office. Novius was strongly opposed to his colleague.[6][7] Novius Facundus, a mathematician in the time of Augustus, who devised a means of measuring the length of days using an obelisk erected on the campus Martius.[8][9] Decimus Junius Novius Priscus, consul in AD 78. He is probably the same Novius Priscus who was among Seneca's friends, banished by Nero in AD 66. His wife was Artoria Flacilla.[10][9] Novius, a friend of Martial.[11][12] Novius Maximus, a person to whom Pliny the Younger addressed two letters.[13][9] Novius, a legacy hunter mentioned by Juvenal.[14][12] Lucius Novius Crispinus Martialis Saturninus, proconsul of Gallia Narbonensis and legate pro praetore of Africa Proconsularis in the time of Antoninus Pius; consul suffectus at some time in 150 or 151.[9] Gaius Novius Priscus, consul suffectus in AD 152. He married Flavia Menodora.[9] Gaius Novius C. f. Rusticus Venuleius Apronianus, the son of Priscus and Flavia Menodora, served as tribunus laticlavius with the sixth legion, was a legate in Asia, a candidate for quaestor and tribune of the plebs, and praetor designatus.[15] Publius Novius L. f. Saturninus Martialis Marcellus, the son of Crispinus, consul circa AD 150.[15] Novia L. f. Crispina, daughter of the consul Crispinus, married Quintus Antistius Adventus.[15] Lucius Novius Rufus, consul suffectus in AD 186, he was legate pro praetore in Hispania Tarraconensis in 193. Rufus was among the leading Romans put to death by Septimius Severus without cause.[16][15] See also List of Roman gentes References  Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, vol. II, pp. 1211, 1212 ("Novia Gens").  Chase, pp. 127, 128, 138.  Macrobius, i. 10.  Gellius, xv. 13.  Bothe, Poëtae Scenici Latinorum, vol. ii. p. 41 ff.  Asconius Pedianus, In Ciceronis Pro Milone, p. 47 (ed. Orelli).  Broughton, vol. II, p. 196.  Pliny, xxxvi. 72.  PIR, vol. II, p. 417.  Tacitus, Annales xv. 71.  Martial, vii. 72.  PIR, vol. II, p. 416.  Pliny the Younger, Epistulae, iv. 20, v. 5.  Juvenal, xii. 111.  PIR, vol. II, p. 418.  Aelius Spartianus, "The Life of Septimius Severus", 13. Bibliography Quintus Asconius Pedianus, Commentarius in Oratio Ciceronis Pro Milone (Commentary on Cicero's Oration Pro Milone). Gaius Plinius Secundus (Pliny the Elder), Naturalis Historia (Natural History). Marcus Valerius Martialis (Martial), Epigrammata (Epigrams). Gaius Plinius Caecilius Secundus (Pliny the Younger), Epistulae (Letters). Publius Cornelius Tacitus, Annales. Decimus Junius Juvenalis, Satirae (Satires). Aulus Gellius, Noctes Atticae (Attic Nights). Ambrosius Theodosius Macrobius, Saturnalia. Aelius Lampridius, Aelius Spartianus, Flavius Vopiscus, Julius Capitolinus, Trebellius Pollio, and Vulcatius Gallicanus, Historia Augusta (Augustan History). Friedrich Heinrich Bothe, Poëtae Scenici Latinorum (Fragments of the Latin Theatrical Poets), Heinrich Vogler, Halberstadt (1822). Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, William Smith, ed., Little, Brown and Company, Boston (1849). George Davis Chase, "The Origin of Roman Praenomina", in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, vol. VIII (1897). Paul von Rohden, Elimar Klebs, & Hermann Dessau, Prosopographia Imperii Romani (The Prosopography of the Roman Empire, abbreviated PIR), Berlin (1898). T. Robert S. Broughton, The Magistrates of the Roman Republic, American Philological Association (1952). Categories: NoviiRoman gentes and what would be your first choice for a Grice/Speranza vignette from THIS gens? Thanks

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Novio – Ossia: Grice e Novio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Novio. My first choice would actually be Novius Facundus, the mathematician in the age of Augustus who devised a way of measuring the length of days by means of the obelisk on the Campus Martius. [GREXv2 | Word] Not because he is the most famous Novius, but because he gives Speranza and Grice exactly the kind of transition they love:  from a physical sign to a temporal conclusion.  In other words:  shadow → time  which is astonishingly close to:  utterance → meaning.  A Gricean dialogue almost writes itself. G.: "Facundus interests me much more than Tricongius." S.: "Because he drinks less?" G.: "Because he infers more." S.: "The obelisk?" G.: "Precisely. The shadow says nothing." S.: "And yet indicates the hour." G.: "Exactly. There is no speaker and no m-intention. The sun is not trying to tell us the time." S.: "But Romans recover it nonetheless." G.: "So one has natural meaning before one has non-natural meaning." That has all the ingredients of a classic Speranza-Grice vignette:  Roman antiquity. Measurement. Sign versus meaning. Natural indication versus communicative intention. So if I were arranging the Novii as a conversational sequence, I would go:  Novius Facundus — natural meaning from signs (shadow → hour). [GREXv2 | Word] Quintus Novius — comic implicature and dramatic misunderstanding. [GREXv2 | Word] **Novius the legacy hunter — practical implicature in social life. [GREXv2 | Word]  And only after those would I return to Milan's immortal drinker, Novellius Tricongius, whose chief philosophical contribution, as Potts would insist, was not drinking three congii, but enabling Rome to discover the distinction between what a nickname says and what it implicates.  and as per Grice below -- let's have a latin conversation (english in brackets) with the eventual implicatura +> english only. About what the shadow means -- and whether what Novio means is involved? Thanks -- Consider the following sentences: "Those spots mean (meant) measles. "Those spots didn't mean anything to me, but to the doctor they meant measles.” "The recent budget means that we shall have a hard year." I cannot say, "Those spots meant measles, but he hadn't got measles," and I cannot say, "The recent budget means that we shall have a hard year, but we shan't have." That is to say, in cases like the above, x meant that p and x means that p entail p. I cannot argue from "Those spots mean (meant) measles" to any conclusion about "what is (was) meant by those spots"; for ex-ample, 1 am not entitled to say, "What was meant by those spots was that he had measles." Equally I cannot draw from the statement about the recent budget the conclusion "What is meant by the recent budget is that we shall have a hard year." I cannot argue from "Those spots meant measles" to any conclusion to the effect that somebody or other meant by those spots so-and-so. Mutatis mutandis, the same is true of the sentence about the recent budget. For none of the above examples can a restatement be found in which the verb "mean" is followed by a sentence or phrase in quotation marks. Thus "Those spots meant measles" cannot be reformulated as "Those spots meant 'measles'" or as "Those spots meant 'he has measles.'" On the other hand, for all these examples an approximate re-statement can be found beginning with the phrase "The fact that ..."; for example, "The fact that he had those spots meant that he had measles" and The fact that the recent budget was as it was means that we shall have a hard year." Now contrast the specimen sentences with the following: "Those three rings on the bell (of the bus) mean that the bus is full." "That remark, "Smith couldn't get on without his trouble and strife,' meant that Smith found his wife indispensable." I can use the first of these and go on to say, "But it isn't in fact full-the conductor has made a mistake"; and I can use the second and go on, "But in fact Smith deserted her seven years ago." That is to say, here x means that p and x meant that p do not entail p. I can argue from the first to some statement about "what is (was) meant" by the rings on the bell and from the second to some statement about "what is (was) meant" by the quoted remark. I can argue from the first sentence to the conclusion that somebody (namely the conductor) meant, or at any rate should have meant, by the rings that the bus is full, and I can argue analogously for the second sentence. The first sentence can be restated in a form in which the verb "mean" is followed by a phrase in quotation marks, that is, "Those three rings on the bell mean "the bus is full.'" So also can the second sentence. (5) Such a sentence as "The fact that the bell has been rung three times means that the bus is full" is not a restatement of the meaning of the first sentence. Both may be true, but they do not have, even approximately, the same meaning. When the expressions "means," "means something," "means that" are used in the kind of way in which they are used in the first set of sentences, 1 shall speak of the sense, or senses, in which they are used, as the natural sense, or senses, of the expressions in question. When the expressions are used in the kind of way in which they are used in the second set of sentences, I shall speak of the sense, or senses, in which they are used, as the nonnatural sense, or senses, of the expressions in question. I shall use the abbreviation "means" to distinguish the nonnatural sense or senses. Yes. For Novius Facundus, I would make the whole vignette turn on Grice's distinction between natural meaning and non-natural meaning. The shadow of the obelisk is perfect because it allows the question:  Does the shadow mean the hour? Or does Novius mean the hour by the shadow?  The dialogue in Latin, with translations, might go as follows.  Grice et Novius Facundus G.: Umbra obelisci horam significatne? ("Does the shadow of the obelisk signify the hour?") N.: Significat, si solem spectes et umbram metiaris. ("It does, if you attend to the sun and measure the shadow.") G.: Ergo umbra dicit: "hora sexta est"? ("So the shadow says: 'it is the sixth hour'?") N.: Minime. Umbra nihil dicit. ("Not at all. The shadow says nothing.") G.: Quid igitur ex umbra colligitur? ("What, then, is gathered from the shadow?") N.: Ex eo quod umbra talis est, hora talis esse colligitur. ("From the fact that the shadow is such, it is inferred that the hour is such.") G.: Num umbra hoc significare intendit? ("Does the shadow intend to signify this?") N.: Umbrae nulla sunt consilia. ("Shadows have no intentions.") G.: At tu horam ostendere intendis. ("But you intend to show the hour.") N.: Ita vero. Obelisco utor ut homines horam cognoscant. ("Certainly. I use the obelisk so that people may know the hour.") G.: Tum aliud est quod umbra significat et aliud quod tu per umbram significas. ("Then one thing is what the shadow signifies and another what you signify by means of the shadow.") N.: Recte dicis. ("You are right.")  Implicatura (+> English only) The conversational moral is:  The shadow naturally means the hour, because its configuration entails a corresponding time.  But:  Novius non-naturally means the hour by constructing and arranging the instrument.  The shadow itself has:  no intention, no audience, no communicative plan.  Hence:  Umbra significat horam.  is like:  "Those spots mean measles."  But when Novius erects the obelisk and calibrates the measurements, we move into Grice's second category:  Novius per umbram significat horam.  ("Novius means the hour by means of the shadow.") The shadow is a natural sign. The sundial is a communicative device. The delicious Gricean conclusion would be: G.: Umbra horam significat; Facundus horam significat. ("The shadow means the hour; Facundus means the hour.") N.: Quid interest? ("What is the difference?") G.: Si nubes veniunt, umbra fallitur; si tu fallis, accusaris. ("If clouds come, the shadow is mistaken; if you are mistaken, you are blamed.") +> Natural meaning may fail through nature; non-natural meaning may fail through an agent. That is why only the second involves what somebody meant. We can adjust. Have A asks what time is it? And B answering. And A asking for source. And B providing shadow. The example may be similar to 'rings in bus' in Grice -- there is a reference to a SHARED CODE (devised by Novio -- that trades on a natural or causal connection. But I would rather have a specific value for 'time' and 'longitude of shadow' -- by 'eventual implicature' I meant that the dialogue is conducted in Latin (with English in brackets) and there is a move after which '+>' is used to mark 'implicature' and what follows is a that-clause making explicit the propositional content which is being implicated. The mechanism is causal and natural, but had it not been for Novio, we'd have none of that, And it concerns NOT ANY COLUMN, but the one on Campo Marzio -- was the system generalised? Would the Romans know that Novius is being referred? (No, we don't think so). So the ascription of 'meaning' -- or this stands for that -- while CAUSAL is mediated via something which was an invention which was NOT causal. And the shadows don't 'lie'-- so this is factive, causal, rather the bells in the bus -- since the conductor can mislead the addressee. Thanks Yes — and your refinement is much more Gricean. The interesting thing is not the shadow alone, but a hearer using a publicly available procedure associated with the obelisk on the Campus Martius. The causal relation is natural; the exploitation of it is institutional. Novius does not create the shadow; he creates the practice by which the shadow becomes informative. I would therefore avoid making Novius appear in the dialogue. Let two Romans converse.  A.: Quota hora est? ("What time is it?") B.: Hora sexta est. ("It is the sixth hour.") A.: Unde scis? ("How do you know?") B.: Ex umbra obelisci in Campo Martio. ("From the shadow of the obelisk in the Campus Martius.") A.: Quam umbram dicis? ("Which shadow do you mean?") B.: Videsne? Umbra ad sextum lapidem pervenit. ("Do you see? The shadow reaches the sixth marker.") A.: Ergo hora sexta est. ("Then it is the sixth hour.") B.: Ita est. ("It is.") +> that the shadow has reached the sixth marker. +> that, according to the accepted method of reading the obelisk, the sixth hour has arrived.  Grice/Speranza analysis What is fascinating is that the final proposition,  hora sexta est  is neither obtained purely naturally nor purely conventionally. The causal component is indispensable:  the position of the sun causes the shadow to occupy a certain position.  In that respect it resembles:  "Those spots mean measles."  The shadow does not lie. The shadow does not intend. The shadow does not mean anything by occupying that position. But there is also a humanly created layer. The hearer is not inferring directly:  sun → hour.  He is inferring:  shadow-position on this particular Augustan obelisk → hour.  That intermediate step depends on a publicly shared code or measuring system. Accordingly, Grice might say:  The shadow naturally means that the sun occupies a certain position.  Whereas:  The shadow's reaching the sixth marker means that it is the sixth hour  depends upon an institution, calibration, and interpretive scheme. Unlike the bus bell, however, the case remains factive:  Umbra ad sextum lapidem pervenit significat horam sextam  entails that the shadow has indeed reached the sixth marker. And, assuming the system is functioning properly, it entails the hour as well. The bus conductor may be mistaken. The obelisk cannot be mistaken; at worst the interpreter may be. Speranza's point would be that Novius occupies an intermediate position in Grice's genealogy. Before Novius there is merely a shadow. After Novius there is still merely a shadow physically, but socially there is now something that functions almost like a sign-system. The causal connection remains natural; the informative use of it is an artifact of human ingenuity. Grice might conclude:  Umbra horam non significare intendit; Novius tamen effecit ut Romani ex umbra horam colligerent.  ("The shadow does not intend to signify the hour; nevertheless Novius made it possible for the Romans to infer the hour from the shadow.") +> that human invention has made a natural sign systematically informative without turning it into a non-natural sign.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Novio – Ossia: Grice e Novio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Novio. My second choice would be Quintus Novius, the Atellan playwright. [GREXv2 | Word] Why? Because Atellan farce is full of:  stock characters, masked personalities, misunderstandings, deliberate ambiguities, conversational tricks.  In short, it is practically a laboratory of implicature. A Speranza reconstruction could easily have Grice remark:  "The history of implicature begins not in logic but in comedy." and for the other, what is Atellan, can we have an example? Yes. For Speranza and Grice, Quintus Novius is probably the most amusing Novius because the Atellana is almost a machine for generating implicatures. [GREXv2 | Word] An Atellan farce (fabula Atellana) is an old Italic popular comedy, originally associated with Atella in Campania. It uses stock masks and recurring characters. The famous ones are:  Maccus – the fool, glutton, dupe. Bucco – the loudmouth and braggart. Pappus – the foolish old man. Dossenus – the crafty hunchback trickster.  The humour often depends on what Grice would later call the gap between:  what is said  and  what the audience immediately understands.  In fact, one could almost reconstruct an Atellan scene as a primitive laboratory of conversational implicature.  Novius: Pappus et Maccus Pappus: Ubi vinum est? ("Where is the wine?") Maccus: Nullum vinum bibi hodie. ("I drank no wine today.") Pappus: Non quaesivi quid biberis. ("I did not ask what you have drunk.") Maccus: Nec ego dixi quid quaesiveris. ("Nor did I say what you asked.") +> that Maccus knows exactly where the wine is.  Pappus: Ergo vinum vidisti? ("So you have seen the wine?") Maccus: Caecus non sum. ("I am not blind.") +> that he has indeed seen it.  Pappus: Et ubi est? ("And where is it?") Maccus: Minus est quam heri. ("There is less of it than yesterday.") +> that some of it has been consumed. +> that Maccus may have been responsible.  Pappus: Quis bibit? ("Who drank it?") Maccus: Non omnes bibunt aequaliter. ("Not everyone drinks equally.") +> that he drank more than the others.  Grice and Novius G.: "This fellow Maccus never lies." S.: "No." G.: "He merely refuses to answer the question that was asked." S.: "And nevertheless communicates the answer." G.: "Exactly. Which is why comedy is philosophically superior to examination papers."  The nice thing, from a Gricean point of view, is that Atellan comedy does not usually depend on hidden metaphysics. It depends on:  evasive answers, excessive answers, irrelevant answers, over-literal answers,  all of which are recognisably proto-Gricean. So if I were writing the Novius entry, I would probably have Grice say:  "Before there were conversational maxims, there were Atellan clowns violating them."  And Speranza would add:  "The audience laughs because it recovers what is implicated faster than the characters do."  That is about as Gricean as an Oscan playwright can get.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Novio – Ossia: Grice e Novio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Novio. My third choice—and perhaps the most Speranzian—is the obscure Novius mentioned by Juvenal as a legacy hunter (captator). [GREXv2 | Word] Because inheritance-hunting is almost pure implicature. Nothing is said directly. Everything is conveyed indirectly:  compliments, attentions, invitations, gifts, concern for health,  all meaning:  "Please remember me in your will."  A Gricean analysis would be irresistible: G.: "What did Novius mean?" S.: "He praised the old gentleman's constitution." G.: "And implicated?" S.: "That he hoped it would survive until the testament was signed."