In the Athenian criminal justice system, the people are represented by two separate yet equally important groups: the police, who investigate crime (and who didn't exist) and the district attorneys (there were none of these either), who prosecute the offenders. These are their stories. Dun dun.

This week the guys take a close look, complete with dramatic reading of a cross-examination, at the rough-and-tumble world of late 5th century Athens and her notorious cutthroat law courts. On the menu is Against Eratosthenes, the most famous oration of Lysias, a resident alien (metic), who became wealthy as a hired gun speechwriter (logographer). Following the end of the Peloponnesian War, Sparta installed a brief and brutal aristocratic regime known as the Thirty Tyrants. These ruffians proceeded to murder many metics, including Lysias' brother Polemarchus (their father Kephalus makes a favorable cameo in Plato's Republic). Now, Lysias impeaches one of those tyrants, Eratosthenes, in a bid to get justice for his dead brother. Can he use his lean, unadorned style, and brilliant character portrayal (ethopoeia) to balance the scales?

Also: Celebrate Rome's birthday today! Use coupon code ROME2779 at latinperdiem.com for 20% off any Latin class.

This week the guys dip back into Marrou, where the author pivots like Yaxel Lendeborg to the Roman side of things. H.I. takes up the "Old Roman Education". Immediately we notice realities that put the lie to the loose notion that the Romans just took from the Greeks and changed the names. While, yes, eventually much of Roman education merges with the Hellenistic ideals explored earlier (and later) tome-wise, at its root, Roman education was fundamentally a different enterprise. Much more than the Greeks, the Roman centered their approach around tradition, the state, and the family. Mos maiorum reigned supreme. The “noble peasant” ideal (even if later on you lived in a high-rise next to the Colosseum and sipped cocktails with your Greek besties) is there at the beginning and never fully disappears. The chief lesson? Even if you show up with an army of Volsci ready to overthrow the state, you still gotta listen to your momma.

This week the guys take another stab at Aristophanes, this time with his Clouds. Will they rain in their criticisms? Will their jokes float lazily over your head? Haven’t the foggiest, but tune in anyway. The episode begins with a discussion of Aristophanic comedy and its genre-bending mix of the lofty and the scatological. Following translator Meineck, exactly how many different ingredients did Aristophanes put in this soup? Is there anything like it today? Or, maybe it's too “localized” to properly translate? Well, step on the gas, and see what the guys find. Maybe you, too, can study with Socrates and learn how to dodge those Christmas credit card bills that recently came calling by making Inferior Argument - whoever that is - stronger. But first, try on these Persian paraffin wax booties and let’s see how far you can jump. 

This week, Jeff and Dave get back to the Aeneid after a brief, Tarzanian hiatus. As the epic nears its end, we witness the intense and interesting interplay between Turnus and the titular hero. Aeneas seems quite secure in his fate, but still he begins the move from representing civilization to savagery. Turnus, on the other hand, ricochets between the poles of Hector and Achilles: sometimes cruel and bloodthirsty, other times sympathetic and winsome. What does Vergil really want us to think about these hulking war machines? Why does Lavinia blush? What's gotten into Amata? And most importantly, why won't Jeff mow his lawn? These questions and more we will seek to answer over the course of 70 tedious, grueling minutes. Still, you might just find this episode the bees' knees.

This week Jeff and Dave wander back into the lush, crowded undergrowth of Edgar Rice Burroughs' prose, guided by the inimitable Erling B. "Jack" Holstmark. Does the vine-swinging, croc-wrestling, ape-aping Tarzan really have anything to do with Odysseus? Hercules? Neither? Or does Dave's late Prof. have a case of academicitis, "seeing what's not there"? Come along with us as we finish up looking at the abiding influence of Animals, Hero, and Themes, the final chapter of Holtsmark's 1981 monograph. And remember, "We live in a world of illusion, where everything's peaches and cream. We all face a scarlet conclusion, but we spend our time in a dream." You're going to (jungle) love this episode! Just make sure that crate of papaya doesn't wait all night by your door.

The guys are back, and this time they are taking a break from the Aeneid series to focus on the appearance of classical themes and inspiration in an unexpected place: the 20th century pulp fiction novels of Tarzan. Aided by the brilliant monograph of Dave's late grad school professor, Dr. Erling B. "Jack" Holtsmark, we examine such questions as, What standards should popular literature be held to? What makes for good diction and characterization? Is Tarzan in the mold of Achilles? Along the way we look at some structures of Greek and Latin style, including polarities, chiasmus, and parallels. If you enjoyed the Tarzan books or movies as a kid, this is a vine time to renew your interest as we burroughs deep into the jungle of Tarzaniana.

In this episode, Jeff and Dave finish off their tour through and analysis of the penultimate book of Vergil's masterpiece. Here we have the jazz-solo moment, the aristeia of the great warrior princess Camilla. She flies across the battlefield at breakneck speed, cutting down in her path every Trojan stooge who dares stand in her way – until she meets "Arruns the Dispatcher", ironically named after an Etruscan prince. But this fast-paced, high-octane action vignette raises some complex questions, the very kind academics love to dilate upon: how come Camilla never encounters Aeneas himself? Why is the erstwhile hero Turnus so passive throught this part of the story, not providing the kind of leadership expected of a protagonist? And most importantly, has anyone used double-blind, controlled studies to determine the real benefits and side effects of daily consumption of horse milk on female Volscian infants? Tune in.

Remember way back when the Trojans were “eating their tables”? Well, in Book 11 their tables seem to be turning. Seems like just yesterday Aeneas was raging as Rambo and Turnus was carrying himself with Hector-like respectability. Sed ecce!—Aeneas is handing out truces like sticks of Big Red and actually validating hurt Latin feelings, while Turnus’ allies are turning against him and blaming him for the whole mess. Even old Diomedes is once bitten, twice shy, telling the Latins there is no way he’s tangling with Venus or her son ever again. So that’s it? It’s over? Not quite—Turnus has a couple of aces up his sleeve, including a spear-swift, water-walking, grain-skipping warrior maiden who is juuuuuust over the horizon.

This week there’s more gore in store for shor as Aeneas gets his rage on and goes full Achilles.  The carnage reaches such a fever pitch that it raises a number of sticky questions: Is Aeneas just a puppet of Fate? If so, can we hold him culpable for the horrible things he perpetrates on the battlefield?  When does embossing your baldric with mythic scenes stop being a flex and start being a “bit much”? Keep your head down, dodge those flying body parts, and see if you can tell who’s who as Aeneas meets his possible doppelganger between spear chuckings. You know what they say—double your alter ego symbolic foreshadowing stand-ins, double your fun.

 

Check out Jeff's new "Peregrinatio" series (Google Earth Archaeological Virtual Tours):

Ancient Dodona (the Oracle of Zeus)

Ancient Epidauros (the healing sanctuary of Asklepios)

This week Jeff and Dave are back at the Aeneid, wading into some deep waters murky and redolent with the unfulfilled wishes of Jupiter. As full-scale war erupts on the Latian plain, Venus and Juno bring their high-pitched quarrel to the king of Olympus, whose own hands, it turns out, are tied by the Parcae. As the Fates roll around in their El Camino, cutting short the threads of numerous heroes Sarpedon-like, men are dying on the field of battle like a scene straight out of the Iliad. But it's not just questions of fate, of popsicle sticks, glue, and Fort Ticonderoga that occupy our sally into divine destiny. Along the way there is also room for Vergil's frowzy digression on Ascanius' lustral locks. What is he, a trichologist? Perhaps our poet was himself glabrous, and that explains his odd obsession with the young Iulus' quiffs and frisettes? We comb through the evidence, attempting to answer this, and more.

The guys take a brief break from Vergil this week to talk about some of Dave's recent translation work. The theme is Scottish divine Samuel Rutherford (1600-1661) and his Scholastic magnum opus Examen Arminianismi ('A Careful Review of Arminianism'). This is for a forthcoming publication by Reformation Heritage Books. After spending a little time on Rutherford's bio and background - including pedagogy of the 17th century - we get into some of the nuances and challenges of Scholastic Latin. Its plain, unadorned style, jawbreaking adverbs and abstruse, Thomistic constructions (indeclinabiliter, reduplicative, in facto esse, in fieri), and repetition for the sake of clarity, all come under the microscope. So if you're interested in the translator's task, in 17th century theological Latin, in some of the politics and controversy of the life of a famous Puritan, then be sure to tune in for this one!

Tune in this week as the guys wrap up Aeneid 9 and take a look at the fallout and aftermath of Nisus' and Euryalus' disastrous midnight raid. When the Rutulians wake to the bloody devastation, its off to besiege the city in which the Trojans, sans Aeneas, are hiding. In this "reverse Iliad", we find the foreign aggressors -- Aeneas and company -- besieged within a city by the invaded inhabitants on the plain. Along the way, we're met with an interesting digression in which Vergil honors motherhood with a threnody from Euryalus' otherwise anonymous mother. He also gives us another invocation of the muse, this time of Calliope, inspiratrix of epic poetry. As full-scale war breaks out, we see Turnus unleashed, and another little hero step forward: Ascanius, Aeneas' son. In his martial aristeia, he dispatches the Rutulian braggart Numanus, after a real, real long monologue. There may be some limericks and lighthearted moments along the way, but don't look for any spoilers here!

"Who drives us to outrageous action? Is it some god, or does each man make of his own desire a god, which then drives him furiously to a violent end"? This is the question we consider this week as we turn to the final quarter of the epic (books 9-12). And we are treated to two surprising events: first, how the ships of the Trojans are transformed into mermaids, shocking Turnus and his gathered Rutulians. Juno is up to her old tricks, and sends along Iris the messenger to tell him not to worry, the Trojans will be trapped in Italy where they can be easy prey for the indigenous hero and his assorted forces. Aeneas is off-scene, still wandering through the regions of Arcadia, securing alliances with Evander and company. The second episode is the midnight raid of Nisus and Euryalus. In a nod to – or perhaps improvement upon – Homer's Iliad 10 and the gruesome death of Dolon at the hands of Odysseus and Diomedes, Vergil here tells his own tragic story of two friends overtaken by greed and a desire for bloodlust. It's not all grim, however. Along the way you can spot silos of Pringles™, the grit of Fig Newtons™, a brief excursion to the admittedly grim Battle of the Little Big Horn, and some Uncrustables™. One might say that mixing the serious with the silly has become Jeff and Dave's ™. So tune in!  

Join the conversation this week as Jeff and Dave go back into the world of Henri-Irénée Marrou’s History of Education in Antiquity, Part II, Chapter XI. First up is philosophical conversion: when you read Plato or Aristotle for the first time, does a lightbulb go off in your mind? What's the wattage, and is it epiphanic? Should everyone study philosophy? The hosts carefully break down the three levels of philosophical instruction: confraternities with chosen heirs that dominated official city life, freelancing, roving lecturers, and the "tub-thumpers" who heckled and harangued innocent passersby. The rivalry could be fierce between the different philosophical sects, not to mention the ongoing feud they maintained with those practical intellectuals, the rhetors. Ancient schooling in philosophy was not so different than the modern variety, with immature pranks, grungy flannels (the tribon), and more. It's a deep dive, but someone's gotta do it. So grab some brew from your Ratio Four, pull up a chair, and join the classical gourmands for a feast of intellectual history. Also, tune in to learn how you can win a free set of the Hackett edition of the Collected Works of Aristotle, as the guys somehow finagled a second giveaway!

This week the guys wrap up Book VIII of Vergil's epic by discussing Aeneas' amazing shield. Wrought by the ignipotens fire-forger Vulcan at the lascivious behest of his sometime bride Venus, the shield is an ekphrasis of Roman history. But how does it compare to its predecessor, that of Achilles from Iliad XVIII? Is it, in Jeff's words, "too on the nose"? Or are there deeper meanings beneath the oxhide? And how does Aeneas compare to Odysseus in terms of plausible humanity? Should he tell some lies or bump some fists to seem more real? Come along for these questions and more — complete with tedious detours through Dante, supines, album covers, early Christian apologists, and Disney's Beauty and the Beast™! Did they leave out anything from this one? 

This week Jeff and Dave launch into the fascinating, often misunderstood world of Rome way, way back before there were Romans. As Aeneas readies for battle in the idyllic landscape, he needs some allies. So it's off a-paddlin' to Arcadia, where the rustic Greek king Evander and his momentous son Pallas make ready allies. While enjoying some old-fashioned hospitality, Evander tells our hero the long, digressive backstory of Greece's mightiest avenger: Hercules. On the way back from rustlin' Spanish cattle, Hercules got rustled himself by the smoke-belching Cacus. This troglodytic monster must be killed. But what does this mean for the epic as a whole and for Vergil's view of the Pax Augusta? Well to find out, warm up your jerri-can of coffee, chill your bucket of Diet Coke, and tuck in for a classical repast past its prime not at all.

In this Christmas-themed episode Jeff and Dave take a break from the Aeneid to look at Luke's Gospel, chapter 2:1-5, and the puzzling census of Quirinius. Drawing from half a dozen scholarly articles on the subject, we try to puzzle out the four major objections to Luke's reliability as a historian on the topic of the census:

“1. Apart from the gospel, history knows nothing of a general Imperial census in the time of Augustus. 2. There could have been no Roman census in Palestine during the time of Herod the Great, a rex socius. 3. Such a census at such a time could not have been carried out by Quirinius, for he was not governor in Syria then, nor till 10 years later, when he did make a census which gave rise to a revolt under Judas of Galilee.  4. Under a Roman census it would not have been necessary for Joseph to go to Bethlehem, or for Mary to accompany him.” - Alexander Balmain Bruce, D.D. (from Epxositor's Greek New Testament, W. Robertson Nicoll, 1897; p. 470) Can each of these objections be met? Was Publius Sulpicius Quirinius gov. of Syria twice, before the death of Herod the Great and again in 6-7 A.D. for the census mentioned in Acts 5? What about inscriptional evidence? Is Luke reliable as a historian?

You won't want to miss this thorough look at the subject, complete with some excellent intro. and outro. music generously provided by guitar wizard extraordinaire Jeff Scheetz.

The guys wrap up their look at Book 7 this week but not before transgressing a few more liminal spaces. When Latinus throws up his hands at the storm gathering around him and his neighbors, it is up to Juno herself to descend and open the Gates of War. While this is the moment in the epic where the Iliadic violence of the second half is officially unleashed, these Gates also point to a Roman reality—the Temple of Janus and the Gates of War in the Roman Forum. A (worthy, we think) digression takes us into the history of these gates and this strange, two-faced deity. We end with a breakdown of Turnus’ puzzling fashion choices on the battlefield, and a glimpse at the extraordinary swift-footed, wheat-sprinting, water-skipping warrioress, Camilla.  Keep an eye on this gal.

This week the guys move (nearer) to the end of Book VII and examine the role of that frightful, hair raising, blood-curdilng sister of Tisiphone and Megaera known as Allecto. Juno -- who knows she's lost but doesn't like being a one-trick villainess -- unleashes hell's wrath on Aeneas' nascent nuptial notions. Allecto's conjured up and down she goes into Amata to spread havoc across the Italian landscape. Along the way we investigate such questions as: is Ascanius' aristeia just riding his pony in the Trojan Games? Can such an innocuous, apparently inconsequential accident like killing a pet albino stag really lead, Gavrilo Princip style, to world war? Where exactly is Ampsanctus? And why doesn't Jeff know who Glenn Hughes is? So pull on your deep purple jumper, your sweats by Vanquished or Loser, and digress for success!

For a special Thanksgiving episode, this week the guys take a look at the "earliest surviving work of poetry about New England and the second oldest poem whose origins can be traced directly to the British American colonies." William Morrell (d. 1625), sometime Oxford Classics student, Anglican priest, and member of the failed Wessagusset Colony in Weymouth, MA, wrote a fascinating poem about Nova Anglia, its flora, fauna, and Native American inhabitants. Drawing on the work of Andrew Gaudio, Jeff and Dave share a lively discussion of the poetry's beauty, Morrell's fairmindedness, proselytizing spirit, and a few questions about colonialism. Lynxes, beavers, bears, and bobcats, this episode is stuffed like a turkey with unusual and recherche conversation. Plus, two more limericks during the ad read, and a special Thanksgiving Easter Egg at the end. Don't miss it!

Book VII! Aeneas and co. find themselves in the second half of the game and the stakes just keep getting higher and higher. Will they have the guts to get the glory? At first it seems like a cake walk—smooth sailing up the Tiber, a hearty welcome by the local king, even a swarm of bees seems to be down with it all on the local oracular BuzzFeed.  But is this all just the calm before the big storm? I mean, Latinus is Faun-ing all over Aeneas, but he also makes a rookie mistake—didn’t clear it with the wife. Uh oh, someone’s headed for the doghouse. So, pull up a chair to your (edible?) table and tuck in to the next part of the main course.

 

Time to leave behind the valley of souls, make our way out of Dis place and head back to the land of the living. As the guys wrap up this portion of the epic poem, it's hard to avoid a little bit of interpretive questioning: Why did Vergil couple Rome's glorious future with the tear-jerking, pathos-filled death of Marcellus? How did the man of Mantua really feel about Augustus? Is that lavish, spondaic poety sincere or is there some kowtowing to the guy who cuts his check? And perhaps most of all, why does Aeneas exit the Mall of Persephone through that gate of false dreams? Was it only to prevent the emergency-exit alarm from going off as he heads toward his Iliadic destiny? To get some answers, cast your anchor from the prow, face your sterns toward the shore, grab a bag of huggable portions, and tune in!

In this episode we find Aeneas getting closer to a reunion with Dad and maybe even an exit from this Hotel California. But, as we’ve seen throughout this epic, there’s no gain without a healthy dollop of pain. First, there’s a horribly awkward rendezvous with a departed Dido who goes all Ajax on Aeneas and ghosts him (literally!) Then we get a glimpse of Tartarus and hear the wretched cries of the damned under the whip of Tisiphone. Finally, the Blissful Groves and a veritable Who’s Who of who slew, made it through just to drink Lethe’s brew (whew!) All this plus a wrestling Jacob, Tolkien, and a jittery Dave steeling himself for another parade. Don't miss it.

Episode 100! Will the guys celebrate the century mark by digging even deeper into the Classics, finding hidden layers of erudite exegesis, philology, philosophy, and theology in yet another literary jewel from antiquity? Nope. Time to phone one in. C’mon, it can’t be Homer, Vergil, Ovid or the predicative dative all the time, right? So, join Dave and Jeff as they look through their fingers at some of the “best” of the last couple of years. Listen as the clips veer from the embarrassing, to the embarrasinger, to the embarrassingest! You’ll cringe! You’ll cringe again! (But, really, thanks for sticking with us this long).  Are we going to bring it for the next 100? You Cheddar believe it.

Porphyry, Isaac Casaubon, and Richard Rietzenstein walk into a bar. Well, that's not true, seeing that they were separated  from each other by hundreds of years. But if they did, they would be talking about the Corpus Hermeticum, that mysterious forged document that dates to the Hellenistic era, and claimed to have been written by "Hermes Thrice-great" (the Triple-decker). Thanks to the brilliant work of Guggenheim fellow and all-around savant Anthony Grafton, Jeff and Dave have the opportunity this week to tease out the differences between forgers and literary critics. Digging through chapter 3 of Grafton's 1990 work, the guys show how Porphyry (third century A.D.), Casaubon (16th century), and Reitzenstein (20th century) each tackle this forgery from a different angle, united in their quest for the truth and using some of the same tools. But as it turns out, are truth and falsehood more closely linked than at first they may appear? And do we have something to learn from the forgers and their methods? Tune in to find out.

This week’s fun-size offering tackles the mysterious, quasi-historical object known as the Palladium. Readers of myth might remember this as the talisman held in the Trojan citadel which protected the city until it was stolen away by Odysseus and Diomedes. But the story doesn’t end there. Rumor says it went to Athens or Sparta, and then maybe Rome. Is the Palladium something that makes the jump from mythic symbol to historical artifact? Was it something like the ξόανον the Athenians kept in the Erechtheion? Did Elagabalus move the Palladium into his Rumpus Room? Did Constantine bury it under his column? Could it still be there?

Tune in for Part 2 of our Gurgle on memorizing Latin. In this brief episode we look at selections from King David , Appendini, Verinus, Gatti, Wegeler, the Apostle John, and more. Add some famous Latin quips and bon mots to your memory storehouse and repertoire. If you want to join the project, become a LatinPerDiem patron (patreon.com/latinperdiem) for $1.99/mo or sign up for Dr. Noe's LLPSI class (latinperdiem.com/llpsi). This will get you the master document of the 20 sayings with translations, plus two high quality audio files (Latin only, and Latin with English translation).

The one who wants to give to others should not say: ‘Do you want it?’

             But he should simply state: Take this, sweet friend! - Wegeler Have at it!

There's no going back now—in this episode we follow along as Aeneas enters the Underworld proper. And if you were expecting a DMV-esque experience like Odysseus had in his jaunt, you’d be sadly mistaken. Turns out the Roman afterlife is more like the 7-story Macy’s on West 34th Street. Oh, you’re looking for the place where the souls of deceased children reside? Up the escalator past housewares and knick-knacks. The shades of warriors who were just “ok”? Hang a left at kitchen accessories and general appliances. Do we also see an Underworld that is literally becoming more “demonized” in Vergil’s hands? Why is the Roman Charon all skeletal and glowing-eyed, while his Greek counterpart is more like Joe Six-Pack? Well, whatever questions you have, get in that leaky boat, drop your obol in the bucket, and hang on for the ride (and don’t forget a Milkbone or two for Cerberus).  

Wait a minute…this sounds like rock and/or roll! Indeed, after some digging through attic boxes stuffed with 45s, 8-tracks, and cassettes, the guys sit down to puzzle over a number of classical allusions in pop songs from the ‘60s to the present day. The references are all over the place—from prog rock to new wave to folk to jazz-fusion to regrettable dabblings by Bob Dylan in cheese-ball ‘80s production. What purposes do these allusions serve? Is it just to make the singer look smart (looking at you, Sting)? To comment wryly on an ankle injury (sorry to hear about that, Mr. Plant)? To apply core themes of Plato’s Euthyphro to social commentary (Jay-Z and Kanye, really?)? So clean that wax out of your ears, strap yourself to that mast, and tune in as Jeff attempts to defend his title as “Johnny Pop” and Dave wrestles with jazz aversions and the over-cutesiness of folk.  

Do you smell that? Could it be the warm smell of colitas rising up through the air? Or did Dave over-microwave his gas station burrito again? Well, whatever the odor is, this path paved with good intentions (and a little cement) is leading Aeneas and company to you know where. Our Trojan exiles have finally reached the stillettoed boot of Italy. But before they can plant a flag and put up their feet, Aeneas has to take a detour down into the Underworld for one last chat with dad. But how to get there? As the Cumaean Sybil says, the gettin’ in is the easy part, it’s the leaving that’ll give you fits. So, keep your eye out for lost comrades, watch those birds, and “bough down”, ut dicunt. Such a lovely place, such a lovely face.

This week the guys close out their look at Book V with continued questions about the relevance of this break in the epic's main action. Are we really supposed to find deep meaning in flaming arrows? Is there coded symbolism when Dares starts flexing and popping his pecs like Schwarzeneggar auditioning for Conan: This Time He's Even More Greased Up? And what's with that "Trojan Game"? Maybe there's a reason it never translated to the board or video variety. Is its sole function to bring out Dave's grim loathing of parades? But hold tight--there's also some genuine, keel-smoldering pathos here. Juno's intent on barbecuing the Trojan fleet and there's poignant loss at the end.  So don't throw in the towel, go the full ten rounds.

Remember when you were a kid and eagerly waiting for that next episode of Family Ties, so you could pick up the continuing action of the Keaton family from the week before? But then they hit you with some weak-sauce clip show where nothing happens except Michael J. Fox getting some time off to film Teen Wolf VI? Well, many have suspected that Vergil is up to something similar in Book 5. We seem to go from the high drama and pathos of Book 4 to competitive paddling and “everybody gets a trophy” day. What happened to the “epic”? But maybe this isn’t just time-killing filler. Maybe Vergil is letting us catch our breath and setting up the next dark turn in these exiles’ fate.  Hang on to that rudder, keep an eye on those rocks, and be prepared to nudge your pilot into the brine if need be.

This week Jeff and Dave take a sustained look at an-oft discussed but ill-defined notion: what, if anything, gives people dignity? Drawing on the work of famous, late scholar Charles Trinkaus (The Scope of Renaissance Humanism), the guys trace this notion from Cicero through the Greek and Latin fathers and into the trecento. Thanks to the diligent spadery of Chuck T., you'll enjoy a who's who of what's what when it comes to key themes and ideas surrounding what separates man (and woman) from animal, the noble brute. In the end it all comes down to Petrarch, Ficino, Mirandola, and Peter 'Et' Cetera of Chicago fame. The jinx here may be lower than normal, but the substance is swole. Don't miss it!

This week we at last reach the grim, tragic climax of Book IV of the Aeneid, where the height of Dido’s madness is matched only by the depth of Aeneas’ strange indifference. When Jeff innocently pauses to comment on the “cinematic” nature of Vergil’s language and pacing, Dave pushes back, and the guys tussle over whether literary narratives are always superior to visual ones. Would Vergil be a Scorsese today? Or would that make him a lesser artist by default, if he set down his pen? Are there genres that are better served on he screen? At any rate, things are getting bleak in Carthage—Dido’s flirting with black magic, raving about the citadel, preparing for a grisly end - and what does Aeneas decide to do? Catch a nap on the poop deck. What is going on with this guy?

We’re getting to the “dessert” portion of this banquet of a book; sounds great, right? Well, dismiss those visions of truffles and gelato from your mind because these “afters” are more akin to lettuce-plated Jell-O replete with creepy, suspended fruits. Why? Because in this episode we get the big breakup scene and it is a doozy. Dido gets wind that Aeneas is trying to shuffle out the back door without so much as a text and corners him. Does Aeneas get the tongue-lashing he deserves or is her response so unhinged as to be completely irrational? Is Fate’s prodding of Aeneas toward Italy the ultimate get-out-of-the-relationship card or is he just this year’s C. Caddy McCadderson?  See if you agree with William Anderson’s hot take that Aeneas is actually “heroic” in his response. There’s a pyre on fire and baby it’s getting dire. More Jell-O, anyone?

 

Incipe, parve puer - "Get started, little boy..." These are the words Roman poet Vergil used in his famous Fourth Eclogue of 40 B.C., bidding the powerful child yet born, son of a divine father, and of a 'virgo', to usher in a new Golden Age after a time of warfare. But who precisely is this puer, who will make war to cease, cause the poisonous serpents to go docile, release draught animals from toilsome servitude, make the hillsides blossom verdant, rollback weeds and thorns, and generally seem to fulfill the vision of Isaiah 11? Come along as we investigate this fascinating question with the help of Constantine the Great, Ella Bourne, H.J. Rose, John Dryden, and more. Yes, there's some nonsense along the way, but this Ad Navseam seasonal epsiode will give you some profundities to ponder. And, stick around for a Christmas-themed outro thanks to the generosity of guitar virtuouso Paul Gilbert!

Finally, don't forget Aristotle: enter to win the brand-new collected works from Hackett Publishing, our generous sponsor. You can find it at this link.

It’s getting steamy in Carthage, as Aeneas and Dido find themselves alone in a cave, separated from the hunt, chased there by an Olympus-sent thunderstorm. But what exactly happens therein? Two lovers simply giving into their desires or is it, as Dido (and Juno) believes, an actual marriage? Is the worst part that Dido has forsaken her vows to her dead husband or that this wedding is shamwow by Roman standards? Where’s the overpriced DJ? Where’s Achates’ overlong and embarrassing “best man” toast? Where’s the can-shackled chariot with the off-kilter “Nuper Nupta!” sign? The guys (with a little help from Brooks Otis and William Anderson) spelunk their way to the answers. And don’t miss the special Princess Bride intro—fans of the movie might see where this is going, but don’t expect a fist bump from Dave. Mawage?

Jeff and Dave are back at it after a tiny hiatus and a southern-fried roadtrip. In this episode we seek to figure out, with the help of Brooks Otis, why Aeneas is such a passive character in Book IV. Why doesn't he show a little more chutzpah, temerity, and boldness as he traipses around Carthage? And why is Dido so darkly verklempt? Juno and Venus do some role-shifting as the darts of Cupid's passion work their way imperceptibly through Dido's cervine heart. A cave, an eloquent sister serving as matchmaker, the 70's hit Loveboat, and Dave's usual pedantry: this episode nearly has it all. And stay tuned for Jeff's signature exercise program so you can learn how to walk like a Classicist!

This week Dave and Jeff take a break from Vergil (well, kinda) and fast forward a few centuries to Augustine of Hippo. Now, here’s a guy that a lot of our audience should be able to relate to—openly hated learning grammar as a kid, beat his head against the wall trying to master Greek, pushed back against things his teachers forced him to do. But as an older man looking back through his life in his Confessions Augie feels guilt for loving the Aeneid so much and not appreciating, say, the foundational aspects of the dative of reference, as well as not weeping for his own flagrant dalliances. But were those tears for Dido really wasted? Can good art channel our emotions in a healthy direction or does it always take us off the path toward God? And why can’t Jeff just keep it together at the end of Pixar’s Cars? Tune in to find out.

Here's your chance, dear listener, to add some famous Latin quips and sayings to your memory storehouse and repertoire. In this Gurgle we teach you how to assimilate and regvrgitate some bon mots from Cicero, Solomon, Urbano Appendini, King David, Vergil, Terence, and more. If you want to join the project, become a LatinPerDiem patron (patreon.com/latinperdiem) for $1.99/mo or sign up for Dr. Noe's LLPSI class (latinperdiem.com/llpsi). This will get you the master document of the 20 sayings with translations, plus two high quality audio files (Latin only, and Latin with English translation). Quid expectatis?

In this episode the guys make their way through the rest of Book 3 where we find more regressive pulls back to the old Troy as well as Homeric tags and Odyssean cameos. At the first stop Aeneas is stunned to find a remarried Andromache still alive in Epirus, but also still obsessed with the past and her dear departed Hector. And even more things are off—she seems to be living in a low-rent, Euro Disney, knock-off “Tiny Troy” with a mini Simois, scant Scaean gates, and paltry Pergamum. It’s like we’ve entered Vergil’s version of the Upside-Down or some other referent to a show Dave hasn’t seen. Aeneas hightails it out of this creepy place and heads for (at last!) Italy, the land of murses and selfie-sticks. Now there's some solid Homeric “fan service”—crowd pleasing walk-ons by Scylla, Polyphemus, Achaemenides, and Bill Murray. Oh, and Aeneas’ dad dies. Blink and you'll miss it.  

At the urging of mom (Venus) Aeneas finally decides to bolt from Troy, but not before encountering a cowering Helen lurking in the shadows. His instinct is for bloody vengeance, but once again Fate has other ideas and dust brooms our hero out the gates. Aeneas is able to save his dad and son (and meet other haggard Trojans by the ol’ cypress tree) but discovers his wife as a ghost. Creusa tells him her heart will go on and then gives him the “Hesperia” prophecy (for about the zillionth time). Then its on to Book 3! Aeneas now has a vague kind of destiny but where will it lead? Hey, Thrace!  Let’s offramp here! NO. Delos? UH-UH. Oh Crete, then, right? TRY AGAIN. And is this Book killer or filler (like that 4th track on every Bon Jovi album)? As the Trojans slowly shed their past, brace yourself for the creepiest gardening you’ve ever encountered, stanky bird-women, and the culinary oddity of “eating one’s tables”. What is that, some kind of ancient bread bowl? Dardanian Flatizza?

As Dave and Jeff plow deeper into Book 2 it is clearly getting worse for the Trojans. They didn’t Sinon for this! Those wily Greeks have set the trap and now it begins to spring. First, coiled, creepy snakes come writhing out of the sea to put Laocoon and his two unlucky sons into a suplex and drag them to watery graves. The Trojans read this omen in exactly the wrong way, and think that this is the perfect time to slap some roller skates on that huge wooden equine  and surf it into the city. And, well, we all know what happens next. Greeks storm the citadel, horrors multiply. Pyrrhus murders old Priam at Minerva’s altar. Aeneas is frozen in indecision—what should he do? Go down swinging? Run for it? Take Dave to task for his irrational opposition to R.E.M. and Michael Stipe?

After a few parting remarks and summations to Book 1, Jeff and Dave wander through the dense undergrowth near the shores of Carthage and make their way to the palace of Dido and Book 2. Here we meet the big set piece, the longest account of the fall of Troy in Greco-Roman literature. How does Jupiter's promise of endless empire for the wolf-pelted Romans get started? How does it feel for Dido to wear that souvenir T-shirt, “I’m with Cupid”? How do we feel about ethnic profiling? Are all Greeks really as evil as the actor left on the shore, or is he just a Sinon the times? What kind of a sound should a spear make when it hits a horse? And finally, should Laocoön get some comeuppance for being the only one who sees the truth? These and more questions will be answered, and you will be treated to a lovely clip from that war on bureaucracy, the ’80s British comedy series Yes, Minister. And don’t miss the extended discussion of scrimshaw and relish.

Don't you just hate it when all you want is to have a nice visit with your mom, share some tea and a huggable portion or two, but then she decides to trick you by showing up as the goddess Artemis or some lace-booted Thracian huntress? Personally, I know that I've had it with that and in this episode Aeneas has too. We pick up the story where Aeneas and a few comrades are washed up on strange Libyan shores convinced they've lost most of their fleet and friends. But wait!  Venus appears in disguise and nudges her son and his disheveled band toward the rising city of Carthage just over that hill there. We get some intriguing backstory on Dido (Carthage's plucky queen), too, including what seems to be evidence for Aeneas' and Dido's perfect Tinder match--tragic loss of spouse? Check. Destined to found a new empire in the West? Check. Years of storm-tossed sea wanderings? Check. Let's get these kids together! But before that can happen a few matters need to be resolved: can dull, duty-bound Aeneas make an attractive impression on the queen? Can he get over his obvious "wall envy"? Will Dave ever find his way out of fog-bound Edinburgh? Bodotria!  

Well we have finally arrived at the full-scale treatment of the Aeneid. In this episode we take a close look at the first half of Book 1, the causes of the storm with King Aeolus, Roman pietas, and all that goes into Vergil's brilliant, epic tour de force. What made the gods so angry? Why did Paris choose Venus instead of Juno? What kind of a bribe will lull Aeolus out of his breezy cavern to stir up the placid sea? And what kind of a hero is Aeneas? Is he pale, wan, and uninspiring, or is there some divine purpose lurking beneath? Be sure to tune in for our brand-new, hot-popping sponsor, and make sure your floors are epoxied.

Back to Marrou, Part II Chapter X! This time it’s all about rhetoric (we’ll resist the temptation to go on and on). H. I. drops the bomb (boutade!) that in antiquity, rhetoric was the Queen of the Sciences, and Isocrates was a much more influential figure in terms of school training and life skills than Plato ever dared deam. Along the way, the guys break down the tension and attraction between rote preparation and improvisational skills, necessary hand gestures, and the pop phenomenon of funerary orations. Want to know how to send off your beloved in the proper, encomiastic fashion? Well, here’s the Rand McNally deluxe version to guide you toward your destination. And by the way, it’s never too early to think about what other names you’d have liked to have been known by. "Give me back a body and I will declaim again!"

 

And don't forget Aristotle: enter to win the brand-new collected works from Hackett Publishing, our generous sponsor. You can find it at this link.

In this burst of classical interest, Dave and Jeff discuss the graffito discovered on the Palatine Hill in 1857. Does it depict Christ Jesus crucified, mocked in the shape of a donkey? What is onolatry? Who was Alexamenos and why is he being ridiculed? What about the early evidence from apologists Tertullian and Minucius Felix? What can they tell us about how the Romans viewed their Christian and Jewish neighbors? Tune in as we discuss these questions and more, and don't forget to check the link for the image: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alexamenos_graffito

In this surprise premier, Jeff and Dave plow new ground with a 15 minute huggable portion, a bite-sized podcast for those on the go. Here's your chance to wolf down some Classics in a short, digestible format. In this episode we take apart the first seven lines of the Vergilian classic. So tuck in your napkin, pull up a chair, take out your fork - nah, forget it. Just shove your whole mouth in the dip and enjoy!

Many civilizations around the world have traditions in which the gods get upset with mankind and water the world back to square one. The Greeks and Romans were no exceptions. This week the guys wade into Ovid’s take on all this with a look at the Greco-Roman “Noah figures” Deucalion and Pyrrha. After humanity Teen Wolfs its way into Zeus’ disfavor, the couple find themselves on a skiff headed for a sea-swamped Parnassus. And even when they hit dry land they have to solve a riddle to repopulate the earth. Why?  Well, Themis the breaks, I’m afraid. So how do Deucalion’s and Pyrrha’s titanic parentage foreshadow the action? What does this story have to say about Roman views of human nature? Why so much rock chucking? And also stay tuned for Ad Navseam’s new coming attraction: “Gvrgle”!