It's not often you get to hear about a cat from history. This 9th century cat may not be the earliest specific cat known to history, but they might be the earliest cat that we know something about other than merely their name.
I think I had written a bulletin about this some months back, but thought I'd like to 'save' this as a blog post.
Back before the days of the interwebs, back before the days of television, back before the days of electricity, back before the days of the printing press … books were translated and copied by hand.
Although all cultures produced writing in this way in one form or another, as Europe descended into the dark ages and literacy fell at an alarming rate, the Celtic Church made a special effort to copy and/or translate as much of the world’s knowledge as they could.
Spending a life copying the written word was a long, arduous, tedious tasks and at times, the monks would become bored and write things in the margins. Sometimes notes pertaining to what they were writing, often not.
Some time in the 9th century – more or less 1200 years ago – an Irish monk in the Reichenau Abby in Germany become bored while copying a text of Latin hymns. He took a moment to write in his native language a wonderful tribute to his relationship with his cat named “Pangur Ban”. This is a translation from medieval Irish into modern English.
I and Pangur Ban my cat,
'Tis a like task we are at:
Hunting mice is his delight,
Hunting words I sit all night.
Better far than praise of men
'Tis to sit with book and pen;
Pangur bears me no ill-will,
He too plies his simple skill.
'Tis a merry task to see
At our tasks how glad are we,
When at home we sit and find
Entertainment to our mind.
Oftentimes a mouse will stray
In the hero Pangur's way;
Oftentimes my keen thought set
Takes a meaning in its net.
'Gainst the wall he sets his eye
Full and fierce and sharp and sly;
'Gainst the wall of knowledge I
All my little wisdom try.
When a mouse darts from its den,
O how glad is Pangur then!
O what gladness do I prove
When I solve the doubts I love!
So in peace our task we ply,
Pangur Ban, my cat, and I;
In our arts we find our bliss,
I have mine and he has his.
Practice every day has made
Pangur perfect in his trade;
I get wisdom day and night
Turning darkness into light.
Now, not only do I find the poem to be utterly charming, but I am fascinated by the originality of the cat’s name. In Old Irish, “Ban” means “white”, and “Pangur” means “Fuller”. “Fuller” is a profession where you hammer raw woven wool so that the fibers interlock and it becomes usable as wool cloth for making clothes or whatever. In the dark ages, this job was done by someone with strong arms and a heavy flat-faced hammer in each hand with a back and forth pounding motion.
To me, this cat probably ‘kneaded’ this monk’s lap whenever he was settling into it the way cats do and this reminded the monk of the motions of a fuller at work. “Pangur Ban” … loosely … “White Fuller.”
So why am I telling you about this? I am here wondering, as my cat is kneading my belly, what the Old Irish word for
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Lori
That's lovely ^_^
❤
by Cranky Old Witch; ; Report