Meta Description: Join Dr. Jeff Winkle and Dr. David Noe in Ad Navseam Episode 96 as they tackle the second half of Vergil’s Aeneid Book V. Discover the dark comedy of the foot race, the brutal boxing match of Entellus, the Ludi Troiani, and the tragic fall of Palinurus. Plus, mastering the Latin language and a classic Seinfeld parting shot.


Introduction: The Alympics and Armchair Poets

Welcome back, classical gourmands, to Episode 96 of the Ad Navseam Podcast! Broadcasting from the familiar confines of the Vomitorium, your hosts, Dr. Jeff Winkle and Dr. David Noe, are skipping the listener shout-outs to dive headfirst into the action of Roman epic poetry.

Dr. Noe admits he is feeling a bit stressed, describing himself as being stretched like an old rubber band you find lingering in the back of a tool drawer. Dr. Winkle, conversely, is feeling thoroughly energized after a long day of teaching mythology and enthusiastically spitting out Homeric hexameters to his students.

The primary agenda for today is tackling the second half of Vergil’s Aeneid Book V. Searching for a title that accurately encapsulates the athletic contests and fiery destruction found within the text, Jeff pitches a few working concepts. He offers up “Games and Flames,” before sheepishly suggesting “The Alympics”—a pun so terrible it nearly derails the episode before it even begins.

Jeff admits he was initially skeptical about this half of the book, wrestling with the pervasive academic idea that Book V is little more than trivial filler between the high drama of Dido in Book IV and the Underworld descent in Book VI. Dave happily steps into the role of the “good cop,” setting out to prove that Vergil’s athletic interludes are brimming with deep thematic significance.

To set the academic stage, Dave reads from a 1968 American Journal of Philology article by G. Carl Galinsky. Galinsky quotes an older, highly arrogant 19th-century scholar named Horatius Nettleship, who boldly claimed that placing Book V where it is was a structural mistake that Vergil never originally intended. Dave vigorously defends Vergil’s genius against this armchair-poet critique, arguing that the games serve perfectly as the necessary “lull before the storm”—much like a movie hero grabbing a coffee before the climactic battle scene.

The Foot Race: Dark Comedy and Sacrificial Slime

The first major event on the docket is the foot race. Aeneas gathers the competitors in a grassy, natural stadium, promising that everyone who enters will walk away with a prize (a “participation ribbon” approach that slightly undercuts the stakes). The clear frontrunner is a swift young man named Nisus, followed closely by Salius, and then Nisus’ dear friend, Euryalus.

The race takes a sharp turn into the grotesque during the final stretch. Unbeknownst to the runners, someone left the bloody, dung-mixed remains of slaughtered oxen rotting directly on the track. Nisus, celebrating his impending victory, slips on the sacrificial gore and wipes out face-first into the filth.

Dr. Winkle cannot help but see the dark, slapstick comedy in the moment, comparing it to a hot-dogging football player fumbling the ball just before crossing the goal line. However, Dr. Noe points out the grim foreshadowing: slipping in sacrificial blood directly anticipates the gruesome doom that awaits Nisus and Euryalus in a botched midnight raid later in Book IX.

In a controversial move of pure loyalty, the fallen Nisus deliberately sticks his leg out into the slime, tripping Salius so that his younger friend Euryalus can secure the victory. Salius cries foul, but Aeneas the peacemaker placates him by handing over a massive Gaetulian lion skin as a consolation prize.

The Boxing Match: The Power of the Mos Maiorum

Next up is the boxing match, a scene so dramatic Dave insists on playing a snippet of the Rocky training montage music to set the mood.

The young, arrogant Trojan fighter Dares steps into the ring. Dares is a pure showman, flexing his pecs, shadowboxing, and demanding the first-place prize—a magnificent bull with gilded horns—when no one immediately steps up to challenge him.

Urged on by the local king Acestes, an elderly champion named Entellus finally answers the call. Entellus was trained by the legendary demigod Eryx, but he initially hesitates, lamenting that he is old, slow, and lacks the fiery juice of his youth. However, when his pride is sufficiently provoked, he hurls Eryx’s massive, brain-spattered lead boxing gloves into the ring to lay down the gauntlet.

When the fight begins, youth appears to have the definitive upper hand. Dares dances around the older man, letting Entellus exhaust himself. Entellus throws a massive, downward haymaker, misses completely, and falls to the earth like an uprooted pine tree.

But this embarrassment only ignites the old man’s fury. Entellus rises and absolutely pummels Dares, driving him across the arena with a relentless hail of left and right hooks. Aeneas is forced to step in and stop the fight before Entellus commits murder. Dares is dragged away by his friends, his “ragdoll head” lolling as he spits out clotted gore and teeth.

Dr. Noe insightfully points out that this scene reinforces the deeply held Roman value of mos maiorum (the reverence for the customs and wisdom of the ancestors). Experience and age ultimately triumph over youthful bravado. To cement his victory, Entellus steps up to his prize bull, pulls back his lead-lined glove, and smashes the beast between the horns, instantly shattering its skull. He sacrifices the animal to Eryx in place of Dares’ life, announcing his permanent retirement from the sport in the most dominant way imaginable.

Archery and The Trojan Parade

The archery contest follows, though Jeff finds it slightly anticlimactic. The target is a dove tied to a mast with a cord. A contestant named Eurytion expertly shoots the dove, but the true spectacle belongs to Acestes. When Acestes fires his arrow into the sky, it miraculously bursts into flames and vanishes—a divine omen that prompts Aeneas to award him the first-place prize (an elaborate chased bowl).

The games officially conclude with the Ludi Troiani (the Trojan Game). Aeneas’s young son, Ascanius (also known as Iulus), leads a highly choreographed equestrian parade and mock battle. Dave  expresses his profound distaste for parades, comparing this sequence to a Soviet military display of tanks in Red Square or a frustrating game of Apples to Apples where there are no clear winners or losers. Ultimately, however, this sequence serves as a piece of dynastic “fan service,” allowing Vergil to connect the historic Roman aristocratic families directly back to these ancient Trojan youths.

The Flames and the Fall of Palinurus

The fun abruptly ends when the goddess Juno decides to meddle. Desperate to keep the Trojans away from Italy, she sends Iris (the goddess of the rainbow) down to the ships. Disguising herself as an old mortal woman named Beroe, Iris taps into the very real exhaustion of the Trojan women, complaining about the endless travel and inciting them to burn the fleet so they can settle permanently in Sicily.

The women set the ships ablaze, horrifying the men. Aeneas prays to Jupiter, who responds with a pluvia ex machina (a miraculous, torrential rainstorm) that douses the flames, saving all but four ships. Guided by a vision of his deceased father Anchises, Aeneas realizes he must leave the weak and weary behind to found a new city, taking only his most resilient people onward to Italy.

The book ends on a surprisingly dark, grim note. As the fleet finally sails toward Italy, the loyal helmsman Palinurus is supernaturally put to sleep by the gods and tossed overboard into the dark ocean. His unburied body is lost to the waves—a tragic, necessary blood sacrifice demanded by Neptune to guarantee the fleet’s safe passage.

Sponsors: Fuel for the Classical Renaissance

Before the cleaning crew arrives to vacuum the “brackish tang” out of the Vomitorium, the hosts thank the loyal sponsors who make the show possible:

The Gustatory Parting Shot

To close out Episode 96, Jeff delivers a highly entertaining Gustatory Parting Shot from the legendary comedian Jerry Seinfeld:

“How about that seedless watermelon? What an invention. Scientists are working on this. Other scientists devote their lives to fighting cancer, AIDS, heart disease. These guys go, ‘No, I’m focusing on melon. Oh sure, thousands of people are dying needlessly, but all this seed spitting has got to stop. Have you ever tried to pick a wet one up off the floor? It’s almost impossible. I’m devoting my life to that.’ So I guess if they can get rid of the seeds, the rind is going next. What do we need that rind for? Get rid of the rind. They’re not going to stop until they’re making in the ground, ready-to-eat fruit cups growing right out of the ground.”

Whether you are enjoying a ready-to-eat fruit cup or throwing down the gauntlet in a boxing ring, keep your eyes on the horizon. Next week, the boys tackle the Underworld in Book VI. Valete!

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