Two Knights and a Non-Knight

I am pretty far into THE MANUSCRIPT FOUND IN SARAGOSSA and there have been no owls, even though there are owls on the cover. But there are plenty of other things! Like, these two knights are talking and this one knight is like, "Alas, we all must die. Only the hour of our death is not certain." And the other knight is like, "Wait, who has told you all these pleasant novelties? It must be a mortal with an extraordinarily witty turn of conversation. Is he often invited out to supper?" And when I read that, I thought, "Hey! 'Is he often invited out to supper?' must be the 'He must be fun at parties' of the 18th century!" And then I thought, is that something people even say: "He must be fun at parties"? I think I've said it. I think, for example, when I went to see Dr. Theresa get an award - before she was a doctor! - and the speaker at the ceremony, for some reason, was a guy whose whole life was spent studying the sense of smell in lobsters... on that occasion, I do believe that as he went on for some time about the sense of smell in lobsters, I turned to our friend Chuck, who was seated next to me, and said, "He must be fun at parties." So I did a "google search" for the phrase "must be fun at parties" and turned up 145,000 matches, so I guess it is something that people say. More and more often, since my little medical hiccup, I wonder whether I know certain things or only think I know certain things. On the other hand, maybe I was never sure. As I type this long series of thoughts, I am in unbearable suspense about whether the "internet" will stop working, as it often does now, thanks to the good folks at AT&T, ties with whom I am assiduously working to sever forever as we speak. (As further evidence of my mental state, I just looked up "assiduous" to see if it means what I think it means, and it does, almost.) Oh! So a few pages later in THE MANUSCRIPT FOUND IN SARAGOSSA, someone (not a knight) is playing a cithara, which took me straight back to the "blog's" big cither/citer/cithern/cittern/kithara/zither craze of 2010. (Citterns were poised to make a comeback in 2011, but it didn't take. Though I will say that as I continue to examine the "blog" for zombie "links," I am astonished to find that the "Frequently Asked Questions about the Renaissance Cittern" webpage not only survives, it was updated - ! - as recently as April 2023. I guess they found out something new about renaissance citterns.) Now, did I immediately assume that the cithara I read about in THE MANUSCRIPT FOUND IN SARAGOSSA was identical with a kithara? Good God, no! I learned my lesson back when I stupidly assumed that a cither and a cithern were the same thing ("click" on "link" after "link" for the incredible details). I'm so glad we had this talk. Postscript: Yes, as predicted above, the godawful AT&T "internet" ceased to work at a vital juncture in the composition of this delightsome bagatelle. (Continuing a theme: I second-guessed myself about the existence of "delightsome" as a word and did not find it in the dictionary that came with this laptop. When the "internet" began to work again, however briefly, I checked out the OED online, which cites numerous uses of the word - well, maybe "numerous" is going a bit too far - beginning in the 15th century and ending only a few years ago, in what seems to be an advertising brochure: "our Sheraton Lagos Hotel teams have come up with a line-up of delightsome and inspiring culinary options." Ugh! Now I see why my computer doesn't want me to use "delightsome.")

The Center Citer

With all this talk of citers, cithers, zithers, citherns, citterns, and kitharai - yes, that's the plural of kithara! - I am afraid that some of you may have missed "clicking" on the "link" that would have taken you to this, which I think (I no longer pretend to be a "know-it-all" about citers cithers, zithers, citherns, citterns, and kitharai) is a Chinese citer (center):

Look At This Guy Jamming Out on a Kithara

Of course it's all moot because Plato was talking about a kithara, and none of these other items we've been discussing. Kithara! That's where we get the word for guitar! I think wikipedia said that. So I believe it. My friend from Hubcap City's "cither" is closer in pronunciation to kithara than my "cithern." But according to the cittern FAQ, "Renaissance musicians may have seen the instrument as a rebirth or renovation of the ancient Greek kithara, which can be seen from... the 'scrolls' found near the neck of the cittern resembling vestiges of the 'wings' on the kithara." This looks like a job for THE OXFORD CLASSICAL DICTIONARY. But I'm so tired.

Lute vs. Zither

From what I can tell, then, a cittern or cithern is more like a lute while a citer or cither is more like a zither - two very different things! Observe the cithers laid flat upon the table. Obversely is the cithern held aloft. Therefore it would make no sense for Plato to hate lutes yet love citherns and I was wrong in oh so many ways to "correct" things.

The Four C's

There are so many citers, citterns, cithers, and citherns on youtube. I feel terrible about not knowing. What else don't I know? Other things, possibly!

None Dare Call It Cithern

What is this I have found on the "internet"? According to the text on the "internet," it is a "cither orchestra" playing "cither music." So I was wrong to insist upon calling it a cithern, thereby doubting my friend from Hubcap City. Ignoble!

Notable Rascals

That picture of a cithern comes from an instruction book from 1652, all about how to play the cithern and the gittern. Go get your cithern! I've already warmed up my gittern. The first three songs in the book are called "John come kisse me now. First way. John come kiss me now. Second way," and "John come kisse me. The third way." Ha ha ha! Olden times. There's also a song called "O Rogues, notable rascals, or Smarra Galumpshe." That sounds good!

A Cithern Is a Thing

Our friend from Hubcap City typed "cither." I was like, "Huh?" I was like, "Does he mean zither?" But then I found something called a cithern in my dictionary. So I added the last letter when I transcribed his email for the previous "post," though that was presumptuous. Because if he had typed "cithern" I would have been like, "Huh?" also. Because I never heard of a cithern until just now. How about you? Are you a big cithern fan? I don't know if that's right: cithern. Maybe my friend's copy of THE REPUBLIC said "cither." Maybe that used to be a thing. Maybe it still is. I don't know anything. I just sit around typing. But here, here's a picture of a cithern so you can see that it's a thing. I am sick of my random picture rule. I don't know why I even pretend to honor it. Isn't a picture of a cithern more helpful and fun? Let's hear it for education! Education teaches us things. And it's all thanks to citherns.

Hey, Goat Boy!

"Keep up the blogging about Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years," raves our friend from Hubcap City. In fact, our work has inspired his own scholarly pursuits: "Your quote from the book about Plato’s picture of government sent me to my copy of The Republic," he reports. "Book III is full of hilarious warnings about music scales. Lydian modes were only suitable for women. The Ionian mode was slack and encouraged drunkenness. Dorian and Phryigian modes were acceptable as they represented men who 'were courageous in warlike deeds and every violent work.' Based on Plato’s definitions, all the music I love must be in the Ionian key. I’m a total failure in the warlike deeds and violent work department. Plato not only despised some scales, he distrusted anyone who made flutes, harps or lutes. Only three instruments were deemed appropriate for his ideal state: the lyre, the cithern and 'a sort of pipe for the herdsmen.' Hey, goat boy! here’s a sort of pipe for you to toot. Now get back to work sitting on a rock surrounded by your herd!" We thank our friend from Hubcap City for a most admirable summary.