Middle Ages plagiarism: Who wrote the English language Bible?
This interesting "Let's Write" echo opinion was published in the Providence Journal, a Rhode Island newspaper, by Daniel F. Harrington.
 |
| William Tyndale (1494-1536)- Language Martyr |
Tyndale realized he had an advantage. A master of languages (he spoke eight), he quickly learned that the ancient Greek and Hebrew texts of the Bible translated far more naturally into English than Latin.
The English lnaguage Bible: It’s been called the most uncelebrated achievement in Western civilization.
Words of love changed the world
To the Christian, it was a miracle; to the scholar, a treasure chest.
(MaineWriter- But, in modern intellectual ownership tenets, the end result could be considered plagiarism.)
In 1525, William Tyndale, of Gloucestershire, England, translated the New Testament, and later, the Pentateuch, into English for the first time, and in so doing, unleashed the English language upon the world.
The time was the early Reformation. Europe was encased in the Latin of the ancient Vulgate and the Catholic Church had declared that translating — or even reading — Scripture was illegal.
Emboldened by Martin Luther’s German translation of the New Testament, the Oxford-educated Tyndale made it his life’s work to “cause a boy that drives the plough to know more of the Scripture than a Bishop.”
The scope of the challenge was immense. Consider: Of the 6,000 volumes in Oxford’s library in Tyndale’s day, only 30 were in English; the rest were in Latin. To the ears of the European elite, English was nothing more than the vulgar chirpings of the common man.
But Tyndale realized he had an advantage. A master of languages (he spoke eight), he quickly learned that the ancient Greek and Hebrew texts of the Bible translated far more naturally into English than Latin. The reason was simple. Latin tended to yield wordy (polysyllabic) translations while English favored simple (monosyllabic) words.
Thus Tyndale’s translation of “Let there be light” from the book of Genesis, for example, is striking in its simplicity yet wonderful in its rhythmic beauty. Similarly, “Ask and it shall be given you, seek and ye shall find,” from the New Testament, sparkles in its poetic cadence and elegance. It rolls off the tongue as each word clicks in its place, making it delightful to recite.
Tyndale established an almost musical pattern of language that would inspire English writers of every stripe and help define English literature as we know it. Be it Dickens (“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”), Shakespeare (“All that glitters is not gold”), Lincoln (“With malice toward none, with charity for all”), or President Kennedy (“Ask not what your country can do for you”), Tyndale echoes through them all.
Some even claim Tyndale’s stylistic brevity is responsible for that ubiquitous cultural icon known today as the newspaper headline. Perhaps.
Less appreciated are Tyndale’s clever marketing skills. Printing his Bibles while in exile in Germany, he ensured the texts were clear and easy to read, and that the books could fit in a person’s pocket. In fact, Tyndale’s Bibles were six inches long by three inches wide — intriguingly, the same size, give or take, as the latest Apple iPhone!
To say his work is controversial was an understatement. In particular, his changing of the Vulgate’s word for “church” to “congregation” and “priest” to “elder” helped redefine Christianity. His greatest offense? Replacing the word “charity” with “love,” instantly lifting the power and influence of the ancient texts.
By 1534, church and state officials had had enough of the brilliant priest and he was arrested for the crime of heresy.
Tyndale lingered in a Brussels dungeon for a year and a half. Only one letter from his time in captivity survives. In it, he begs his captors for the return of his night cap and woven shirt to battle the cold. He also pleads for his Hebrew manuscripts so he can begin translating the glorious Book of Psalms into English.
Countless scholars have longed to hear the Psalms as filtered through Tyndale’s marvelous brain, but it was not to be.
Tyndale was executed on a cold morning in October 1536. In what was considered an act of mercy, his executioner strangled him before burning his lifeless body at the stake. A large crowd gathered in silence to watch the tragic end of a man who, quite literally, gave the world love.
History has largely forgotten William Tyndale because shortly after his death a monarch attached his own name to a collective work that was largely based on Tyndale’s: The King James Bible.
Daniel F. Harrington (danielfharrington@yahoo.com), a monthly contributor, is president of Chartwell Wealth Management in Rumford.
In 1525, William Tyndale, of Gloucestershire, England, translated the New Testament, and later, the Pentateuch, into English for the first time, and in so doing, unleashed the English language upon the world.
The time was the early Reformation. Europe was encased in the Latin of the ancient Vulgate and the Catholic Church had declared that translating — or even reading — Scripture was illegal.
Emboldened by Martin Luther’s German translation of the New Testament, the Oxford-educated Tyndale made it his life’s work to “cause a boy that drives the plough to know more of the Scripture than a Bishop.”
The scope of the challenge was immense. Consider: Of the 6,000 volumes in Oxford’s library in Tyndale’s day, only 30 were in English; the rest were in Latin. To the ears of the European elite, English was nothing more than the vulgar chirpings of the common man.
But Tyndale realized he had an advantage. A master of languages (he spoke eight), he quickly learned that the ancient Greek and Hebrew texts of the Bible translated far more naturally into English than Latin. The reason was simple. Latin tended to yield wordy (polysyllabic) translations while English favored simple (monosyllabic) words.
Thus Tyndale’s translation of “Let there be light” from the book of Genesis, for example, is striking in its simplicity yet wonderful in its rhythmic beauty. Similarly, “Ask and it shall be given you, seek and ye shall find,” from the New Testament, sparkles in its poetic cadence and elegance. It rolls off the tongue as each word clicks in its place, making it delightful to recite.
Tyndale established an almost musical pattern of language that would inspire English writers of every stripe and help define English literature as we know it. Be it Dickens (“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”), Shakespeare (“All that glitters is not gold”), Lincoln (“With malice toward none, with charity for all”), or President Kennedy (“Ask not what your country can do for you”), Tyndale echoes through them all.
Some even claim Tyndale’s stylistic brevity is responsible for that ubiquitous cultural icon known today as the newspaper headline. Perhaps.
Less appreciated are Tyndale’s clever marketing skills. Printing his Bibles while in exile in Germany, he ensured the texts were clear and easy to read, and that the books could fit in a person’s pocket. In fact, Tyndale’s Bibles were six inches long by three inches wide — intriguingly, the same size, give or take, as the latest Apple iPhone!
To say his work is controversial was an understatement. In particular, his changing of the Vulgate’s word for “church” to “congregation” and “priest” to “elder” helped redefine Christianity. His greatest offense? Replacing the word “charity” with “love,” instantly lifting the power and influence of the ancient texts.
By 1534, church and state officials had had enough of the brilliant priest and he was arrested for the crime of heresy.
Tyndale lingered in a Brussels dungeon for a year and a half. Only one letter from his time in captivity survives. In it, he begs his captors for the return of his night cap and woven shirt to battle the cold. He also pleads for his Hebrew manuscripts so he can begin translating the glorious Book of Psalms into English.
Countless scholars have longed to hear the Psalms as filtered through Tyndale’s marvelous brain, but it was not to be.
Tyndale was executed on a cold morning in October 1536. In what was considered an act of mercy, his executioner strangled him before burning his lifeless body at the stake. A large crowd gathered in silence to watch the tragic end of a man who, quite literally, gave the world love.
History has largely forgotten William Tyndale because shortly after his death a monarch attached his own name to a collective work that was largely based on Tyndale’s: The King James Bible.
Daniel F. Harrington (danielfharrington@yahoo.com), a monthly contributor, is president of Chartwell Wealth Management in Rumford.
Labels: Daniel F. Harrington, New Testament, Providence Journal, William Tyndale
posted by Juliana L'Heureux at 4:56 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home