Meta Description: Join Dr. David Noe and Dr. Jeff Winkle in Ad Navseam Episode 59 as they tackle two famous Ovidian vignettes from the Metamorphoses. From the “deodorant arrow” of Cupid to the tragic “dogalog” of Actaeon, explore how Ovid turns the epic genre on its head. Plus, discover why the Latin language is the perfect vehicle for stories of transformation and terror.
Introduction: An “Octoberal” Evening in the Vomitorium
Welcome back to the “Vomitorium,” listeners! It is Episode 59 of the Ad Navseam Podcast. The atmosphere is crisp, cool, and distinctly autumn. Your hosts, Dr. David Noe and Dr. Jeff Winkle, are broadcasting on what Dr. Noe coins a “crisp Octoberal evening”. While “Octoberal” might not be in the dictionary yet, it fits the mood perfectly. The temperature has dropped to a brisk 52 degrees Fahrenheit, which Dr. Noe notes is “way colder” in metric (a scientific fact we are too cold to dispute). It is the perfect weather for curling up with a hot drink and diving into the shifting, sliding world of Roman mythology.
Tonight, the hosts are tackling Ovid’s Metamorphoses. But rather than trying to swallow the entire 15-book whole, they are focusing on two specific “vignettes”: the chase of Apollo and Daphne and the tragedy of Diana and Actaeon. It’s a night of gods behaving badly, mortals suffering unjustly, and the Latin language stretching the boundaries of epic poetry.
Shout-Out: The $5 Philosophy Notes
Before the transformations begin, we have a shout-out to a long-time friend and listener: Dan Vootberg. Dan teaches 8th-grade English, History, and Bible at Grand Rapids Christian Middle School. He has deep roots with the hosts—he was in high school Latin class with Dr. Winkle and took a Philosophy of Aesthetics class with Dr. Noe at Calvin University.
Dr. Noe shares a hilarious confession: in that philosophy class, he paid a classmate $5 for her “perfect class notes” because his own note-taking skills were lacking. That classmate is now a PhD in Philosophy, so it was clearly a good investment. Dan was also known for his thespian skills and his Latin catchphrase: Hic non est culeus meus (“This is not my bag”). To Dan, keeping the classics alive for 8th graders: Macte virtute!
Defining the Terms: What is a Vignette?
Dr. Noe insists on calling tonight’s stories “vignettes,” a word Dr. Winkle finds a bit pretentious (“I put the ‘I’ in irascible”). But the etymology is fascinating. The word comes from the French for “vineyard” or “little vine.” Originally, it referred to the decorative vine tendrils drawn in the margins of a book page. Eventually, the meaning transferred from the border decoration to the literary sketch itself . It implies a snapshot—a contained story within a larger frame. And that is exactly what Ovid does. He links 250 myths together in a massive “pastiche,” moving from creation to Julius Caesar with very loose connections.
Is Ovid an Epic?
The hosts debate the nature of Epic Poetry. They cite Torquato Tasso (1594), who defined epic as “an imitation of noble action… narrated in the loftiest verse”. They cite C.M. Bowra (1945), who added that it must deal with “violent action such as war” and the “dignity and nobility of man”.
Does Ovid fit? Not really.
Sure, he writes in dactylic hexameter (the meter of Homer and Vergil). But his subject matter isn’t the “dignity of man”; it’s the chaos of passion. He invokes the gods not with reverence, but with a wink. As Dr. Noe’s own translation of the opening lines puts it:
“To my own time, my song sublime, extend in rhythmic pounding.” It’s epic in form, but comedy (and sometimes horror) in spirit.
Vignette 1: Apollo, Daphne, and the Deodorant Arrow
The first story is Apollo and Daphne (Book 1). It starts with a dispute between Apollo (fresh from killing the Python) and Cupid. Apollo mocks Cupid for playing with “a man’s weapons”. Cupid, not one to take an insult lying down, flies to Mount Parnassus and draws two arrows:
- The Golden Arrow: Sharp and glistening. It impels love (The “Odorant”).
- The Lead Arrow: Blunt and heavy. It dispels love (The “Deodorant”).
Dr. Winkle jokes that the lead arrow is the “deodorant” arrow—it repels people, much like a bad body spray. Cupid shoots Apollo with the gold (Odorant) and Daphne with the lead (Deodorant). The result is a chase scene that Dr. Noe compares to Pepe Le Pew. Apollo chases Daphne through the woods, shouting his resume: “I am Lord of Delphi! Jove is my father! I invented medicine!” Like the cartoon skunk, he won’t shut up. He thinks if she just knew who was chasing her, she’d stop running. But Daphne isn’t running because she’s confused; she’s running because she’s terrified. The story ends with her transformation into the Laurel tree. Apollo, unable to marry her, decides to wear her leaves forever. It’s a disturbing mix of violence and etiology, wrapped in beautiful Latin verse.
Vignette 2: Diana, Actaeon, and the Dogalog
The second vignette is Diana and Actaeon (Book 3). Actaeon is the grandson of Cadmus. He is a good hunter who exercises moderation, telling his men to “call it a day” at noon. But he commits a fatal Error (mistake), not a Scelus (crime).
“What crime is there in an error?” Dr. Noe suggests Ovid is alluding to his own exile, which he famously blamed on “carmen et error” (a poem and a mistake).
Actaeon stumbles into a Locus Amoenus (a “pleasant place”)—a natural grotto where the goddess Diana is bathing. The nymphs scream. Diana, who is “head and shoulders taller” than the others, splashes water on Actaeon. The punishment is instant: he transforms into a stag. The horror begins when he tries to speak. He tries to say “Oh no,” but only a groan comes out. Dr. Noe notes that Ovid can’t resist the comedy even here—imagining a deer trying to talk.
Then comes the “Dogalog.”
Ovid lists the names of Actaeon’s dogs—all 27+ of them.
- Blackfoot
- Tracker
- Spot
- Tigress
- Grinder
- Grasper Dr. Noe calls this a “Dogalog”—a parody of the Homeric “Catalog of Ships.” Instead of listing great warships, we are listing dogs named “Spot.” It is ridiculous, yet it leads to a brutal conclusion where Actaeon is torn apart by his own pack.
The Caesar Theory: Dr. Winkle offers a brilliant “hot take.” Could this scene be an allegory for the Assassination of Julius Caesar? Actaeon is surrounded by his own “friends” (the dogs/senators). There are about 27 dogs; there were 23 stab wounds (and many more conspirators). Actaeon tries to speak but cannot; Caesar famously covered his face or fell silent. It is a compelling reading that adds a layer of political danger to the myth.
Sponsors: Fuel for Your Metamorphosis
This journey through the woods of Ovid is supported by:
- Hackett Publishing: Hackett has generously provided copies of the Metamorphoses for a giveaway! Check the social media for details. And to buy your own, use the code.
- The Deal: Visit hackettpublishing.com and use code AN2021 for 20% off and free shipping.
- The Moss Method: Want to read the Latin language of Ovid’s “Dogalog” in the original? Or perhaps the Greek of the New Testament? Dr. Noe’s self-paced courses are expert and accessible.
- The Deal: Visit latinpediem.com to start your journey.
- Ratio Coffee: Dr. Winkle loves his Ratio 6, and Dr. Noe loves his Ratio 8. They brew with a “bloom and brew” cycle that eliminates the “brackish tang.”
- The Deal: Visit ratiocoffee.com and use code ANCO for 15% off.
The Gustatory Parting Shot
We wrap up this episode with a quote from Janet Clarkson’s Pie: A Global History. After the horrors of being turned into a tree or a deer, we need some comfort food.
“The strangely marvelous thing is that we refuse to relinquish the Pie. We cling to the idea of it with some fervor in spite of its fading reality on our tables.”
Why is it so? We may never know. But like Ovid’s myths, the Pie endures.
Valete! (And watch out for the deodorant arrow).
Resources for the Latin and Greek Learner:MossMethod and LLPSI: Ready to tackle the Latin language and read Ovid’s Metamorphoses in the original, or read Greek? Visit latinperdiem.com to start your journey today!
