Meta Description: Join Dr. Jeff Winkle and Dr. David Noe in Ad Navseam Episode 145 as they welcome legendary translator Stanley Lombardo to the Vomitorium! Discover how The rhythmic beat of a hand drum and the performative power of the Latin and Greek languages shaped Lombardo’s brilliant translations of Homer, Ovid, and Virgil. Plus, the Sled Poet Society and Uncle Caveman.


Introduction: The Three-Piece Thrift Store Suit and the Mystery Mint

Welcome back, classical gourmands, to Episode 145 of the Ad Navseam Podcast! Broadcasting from the subterranean bunker of the Vomitorium, your hosts, Dr. Jeff Winkle and Dr. David Noe, kick off the episode with some highly questionable sartorial and dietary choices.

Dr. Winkle notices that Dr. Noe has descended into the bunker wearing a slightly mismatched three-piece suit. Dave admits that he purchased the coat, pants, and button-up vest from a local thrift store. While questioning if the purchase was a good bargain, Dave was rummaging through the vest pocket and discovered a stray, vintage tin of Altoids breath mints. Demonstrating an appalling lack of self-preservation, Dave decided to eat one of the mysterious thrift store mints. Miraculously, he survived the experience, declaring the mint to be quite good and the candies to be good in-vest-mints.

Jeff, meanwhile, is recovering from a long illness, noting that he finally feels like he is “out of the rain.” This naturally prompts a mandatory string of lyrical puns referencing America’s classic song, A Horse with No Name, proving that even when recovering from illness, the hosts’ dad-joke game remains incredibly strong.

The Australian Correspondent: Ron Henley and Clara’s Chaos

Before bringing out their highly esteemed guest, the hosts share a dispatch from their favorite Australian correspondent, Ron Henley. Ron has been on a pedagogical mission to prove the enduring relevance of the Latin language to his students. Instead of just beating a drum in the classroom to maintain their attention, Ron compiled an exhaustive list of 2,443 English words derived directly from Latin.

Ron tasked his students with using these classical derivatives to compose creative English paragraphs. He shared a submission from a student named Hazel, titled “Clara’s Chaos.” The story begins innocently enough, with two friends, Clara and Camilla, deciding to skip their history class to test drive Camilla’s car. However, the narrative takes an unexpectedly dark, incredibly abrupt turn: they immediately get into a terrible car crash, and Clara is left in a coma. The hosts applaud the student’s highly creative use of vocabulary, even if the sudden tragedy left them with a severe case of literary whiplash.

The Main Event: Enter Stanley Lombardo

The hosts are absolutely thrilled to welcome a true titan of classical translation to the program: Stanley Lombardo. Dr. Winkle notes that he has used Stan’s translation of the Odyssey in his mythology classes for years, praising it as the definitive version that finally makes the epic accessible, engaging, and thrilling for intimidated college students.

Stan graciously shares the origins of his intellectual journey. Born and raised in New Orleans, Louisiana, he attended Catholic schools operated by the Sisters of Christian Charity, the Christian Brothers, and the Jesuit priests. It was the rigorous intellectual formation provided by the Jesuits that truly shaped his academic foundation and sparked his early interest in poetry.

Interestingly, his deep, instinctual connection to the Latin language did not begin in a dusty classroom; it began at the altar. Stan served as an altar boy for six years. Participating in the Latin Mass, funerals, and weddings, the sound, rhythm, and weight of the language poured directly into his ears on a weekly basis. This early, immersive auditory experience profoundly shaped his understanding of classical languages. By his junior year of college, he was already reading Homeric Greek and the poetry of Vergil in the original text.

Translating for the Ear: The Performative Voice

Stan emphasizes a foundational philosophy that drives his entire body of work: ancient poetry was always meant to be performed. In antiquity, audiences did not sit silently in a room reading books; they listened to trained performers bring the text to life.

Because of this historical reality, Stan translates strictly for performance. His process involves translating a few pages, reading them out loud to himself, and revising the text based entirely on how it sounds. He notes that the ear is far less forgiving than the eye; if a line doesn’t work when spoken, it must be rewritten. He frequently attempts to channel the voice of his old graduate school professor, Gareth Morgan, a Welshman who read Greek aloud more beautifully than anyone Stan had ever heard.

Stan also credits listening to a recording of Christopher Logue reciting his highly free, vernacular translation of Iliad Book 16 (the death of Patroclus). This taught him how to maintain a dynamic, performative tension—staying committed to the original text while freeing it to sing organically in modern English. When composing his own translations, Stan deliberately avoids looking at previous translations (like those by Richmond Lattimore or Samuel Butler) to ensure his own poetic voice remains unclouded by archaic phrasings.

Beyond Greece and Rome: Akkadian and Sanskrit

While famous for his mastery of the Greek and Latin language, Stan’s bibliography is staggering in its cultural breadth. He has translated works by pre-Socratic philosophers like Parmenides and Empedocles, and even the Chinese Tao Te Ching (collaborating closely with scholar Stephen Addis).

Stan tells a hilarious story about how he came to translate the ancient Mesopotamian Epic of Gilgamesh. While dining at a very fancy restaurant in Boston with his Hackett Publishing editor, Brian Rak, they made their way through a second bottle of wine. Rak casually asked Stan to translate Gilgamesh. Stan replied, “Well, I don’t know the language” (Akkadian). Rak didn’t miss a beat: “Well, how long would it take for you to learn it?” Armed with an old, literal word-for-word interlinear translation and his foundational knowledge of Semitic languages like Hebrew, Stan successfully tackled the epic. He utilized a similar interlinear method when translating the Sanskrit of the Bhagavad Gita.

Ovid vs. Vergil: The Poet at Play

Dr. Winkle asks Stan if he has a favorite ancient author to translate. Stan immediately points to the brilliant Roman poet Ovid.

Ovid, he explains, is “the poet at play.” Translating the Metamorphoses is a joyful, engaging experience because the author’s playful spirit is infectious; the translator feels as though Ovid will be forgiving of creative liberties.

Vergil, however, is a completely different beast. Stan notes that when translating the Aeneid, “you’re on the spot.” The rigorous, highly structured perfection of Vergil’s poetry leaves little room for error or casual play. Meanwhile, translating Homer requires a deep sense of humility. Homer’s mind is so vast and his genius so unreachable that Stan feels the ancient bard looks down on his translators with a grandfatherly grace, essentially saying, “It’s okay, my boy, nobody can come close to what I’m doing.”

The Beat of the Drum: Bringing the Meter to Life

Dr. Noe brings up a fascinating piece of Stan’s performance history: his use of a hand drum.

When performing his translations across the country, Stan frequently accompanies himself with a small hand drum (similar to a tambourine with the metal jingles removed). Striking it with a stick, he uses the percussion to highlight the rhythms of the verse, much like the modernist poet Ezra Pound.

Stan recounts a memorable event at the University of Virginia, where a massive group of scholars gathered to read the entire Iliad straight through in a single day. Stan read the first and last books, and he was the only performer who utilized a drum. The rhythmic accompaniment immediately set his performance apart, proving the visceral, primal power of oral poetry.

Currently, Stan has a new translation of Euripides in press, co-translated with Melina McClure, an incredibly talented scholar he met after receiving a phone call from her father explaining she had broken her leg and was devastated to miss his performance. While some have suggested he translate Vergil’s agricultural poem, the Georgics, Stan humorously admits he doesn’t even know half the farming vocabulary and intends to give it a hard pass.

Advice to Students and The Sled Poet Society

When asked for a final piece of advice for students studying the classics, Stan’s answer is profound yet simple: “Whatever author you’re reading, read it out loud to yourself. Make it come alive… You will have a much deeper appreciation of the poem or the prose.”

As the interview concludes, the hosts hear a loud thumping from the floorboards above Vomitorium South. Dr. Noe theorizes it is the dreaded “Sled Poet Society”—a bizarre group dedicated to writing winter verse about lost mittens and frozen tongues. This prompts a nostalgic, hilarious reflection on the brutal winter conveyances of their youth in Michigan, including the “Ziffy Whomper” (which always filled with snow and ground to an immediate halt) and the completely undignified plastic saucer (which operated much like sliding down a hill on a yogurt container lid).

Sponsors: Fuel for the Classical Renaissance

Before escaping the Sled Poets, the hosts thank the team and sponsors that keep the bunker operational:

The Gustatory Parting Shot

We conclude Episode 145 with a classic piece of comedic wisdom. Dr. Winkle delivers a Gustatory Parting Shot from the legendary Jack Handy’s Deep Thoughts:

“My favorite uncle was Uncle Caveman. We called him that because he lived in a cave. And every once in a while, he’d eat one of us. Later on, we found out he was a bear.”Whether you’re dodging thrift store Altoids or bears in caves, keep taking in the classics and keeping them down. Valete!

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