Saturday, October 20, 2012

Serendipitous discoveries via Twitter

I have already written of the inspirational quality that I think Twitter possesses, but something I think is equally fascinating is the linking potential of micro-blogging. An example of this occurred recently when I was viewing the Tweets of one of my favorite databases, namely @Gallica of the Bibliothèque nationale de la France {BnF. They had tweeted a link to a gallery on their Facebook page promoting an exhibition of oceanic maps by the BnF, which contained images of fourteen beautiful maps, two of which particularly caught my attention, namely the first and last.

The first map, because of the "wind heads" present upon it. I have been fascinated by the anthopomorphization of wind by various Western cultures over the ages, the Greek and Latin ones being the most interesting to me. I also find it interesting that the conversion from anthropomorphic personas to directional (i.e. compass point) labels would seem to be a peal heralding the end of one age and beginning of another. Whether one considered it an example of the magic/science divide, or ancient/modern divide, or some other divide with which I am simply unfamiliar (I'm sure there are as many as there are academic disciplines). But most of all, being located in the Northwest of the U.S.A., I've always identified with Corus (or Caurus, Chorus, etc.), the wind that most frequently eminates from the northwesterly direction, (though obviously relative to a particular landmass depending on the focus and orientation of the map being considered).

The last map was also of particular interest because of how it was called "septentrional," a label that has a slightly circuitous, perhape even esoteric, connection to things that interest me. I had seen the term before, namely in relation to the wind eminating from the north. This can be seen here, in another post that Gallica had made to highlight recent additions to their database, in this set of four "roses des vents," in particular, I was comparing these instances of the Greek [anthropomorphized] names with the English [directional] names

In the Greco-Latin version of the four compass roses, I encountered a variation of the above term "septentrional" where the point of due north had been labeled "Septentrio vel Boreas." This time the occurance was enough to cause me to seek out the term and it's origin. So, in the OED I discovered that it was generally used to describe northern or northerly things, but used rarely now. However, the more interesting thing to me was found in the etymology of Septentrion, where it stated, "originally septem triōnēs, the seven stars of the constellation of the Great Bear." In the Dictionary of medieval Latin from British sources, this was confirmed as referring to "the seven stars of Ursa Major," or "north (direction)," or simply the "north wind." What a wild ride, from ocean maps to the Big Dipper, all with the help of Twitter.