2 (page 14)p. 14The Etruscan language

Etruscan was not an Indo-European language; that is, it did not share the common inherited grammatical structures which most European languages have and which are usually thought to have spread in the Neolithic period along with farming techniques. That is what makes Etruscan difficult to understand. It is however perfectly possible to read Etruscan. From the 8th century on, the Etruscans used an alphabet which was derived from the Phoenicians and which was in use across the Mediterranean. The letter forms differ only slightly from those used by the Greeks at the same time, and although Etruscan maintains its alphabet so that by the 2nd century it looks very different from formal Greek alphabets, it is perfectly legible (Figure 3). (On the whole, Etruscan inscriptions are written right to left.)

This is the precise opposite of the decipherment of Linear B in Mycenaean Greece, where we did not understand the signs that were being used. When these were revealed to represent syllables we could see that the language was an early form of Greek, and the baked clay tablets were immediately more or less comprehensible. For Etruscan, we understand the alphabet but it spells out words we do not always recognize.

That said, we can make a decent stab at understanding most of what is written. Almost all Etruscan survives as inscriptions on (page 15)p. 15(page 16)p. 16stone or metal, or painted on pottery; and mostly as dedications, but there are some longer inscriptions, including three thin sheets of gold from Pyrgi (Figure 4), with a parallel Phoenician text, which relate the dedication of a temple or cult building. Two calendars of ritual also survive, one from Capua and the other the extraordinary linen book, 1,500 words long, which was torn up and used as the wrappings on a mummy, now to be found in Zagreb. But the vast majority of the words in Etruscan inscriptions are names. So, on a tomb at Volsinii, we read ‘mi aranθia flavienas’, which simply says ‘I (am the tomb of) Aranth Flavienas’. There are about 12,000 inscriptions in all, and the majority are short and completely transparent.

The prevalence of names in the inscriptions has encouraged a careful study of Etruscan onomastic practice, and comparisons with other parts of Italy. Until the 8th century bc, individuals are attested with only one name. After the 8th century, and the substantial move towards more urbanized foundations, two names become common in much of central Italy. Instead of saying ‘x, son of y’ we find names constructed as ‘x, of the family y’ and so (technically) the patronymic adjective becomes a gentilicial nomen. Why was it important for the Etruscans and others at this point to make a clear reference to their extended family? It is widely assumed that this relates to transmission of property and that suggests something very significant about the structure of the family and the relationship between the family and more complex social structures. Moreover, nomenclature also reveals slaves, who have only a personal name and a reference to their owner; from Chiusi we find ‘Antipater cicuσ’ (Antipater—a Greek name—belonging to [i.e. slave of] Cicu).

(page 17)p. 17(page 18)p. 18The Roman conquest placed pressure on Etruscan as a written language. There was no edict forbidding use of the language; rather the increasing influx of Latin-speaking settlers may have rendered the language less attractive, perhaps less comfortable to use; there is some evidence for Latin-speakers laughing at those who spoke either foreign languages or heavily accented Latin. At the same time, bilingualism was for a while an option.

We know of 28 Etruscan and Latin bilinguals, all from the late 2nd century bc into the 1st century ad, and they are not all elite. Lucius Scarpius, freedman of Scarpia and a priest’s assistant from Perugia, is an intriguing example. The inscription was on an urn with a travertine marble cover, decorated with a gorgon’s head on the body, and a rose and a bunch of grapes on the tympanum of the cover. The tomb included 15 urns and five funerary vessels; Scarpia’s urn was nearby. The Etruscan version is misspelt; the person who freed Lucius was a woman—or was she his wife?

The most famous however is the funerary monument found at Pisaurum. In beautifully inscribed Latin and Etruscan letters, the inscription reads:

[L ·CA]FATIUS· L ·F ·STE· HARUSPE[X]

FULGURIATOR

(Translation: Lucius Cafatius, son of Lucius, of the voting tribe Stellatina, haruspex, interpreter of lightning strikes)

[c]afates· lr· lr ·netσ’vis· trutnvt ·frontac

(Translation: Laris Cafates, (son of) Laris, haruspex, interpreter of lightning strikes)

The inscription shows someone, perhaps the deceased or someone who commissioned the inscription, at ease with his ritual activity in both languages.

(page 19)p. 19It is quite wrong therefore to say that we cannot read or understand Etruscan, but the inscriptions only get us so far. Certainly they could write at length—Etruscan books on ritual matters were consulted well outside Etruria, but alas none has survived.