Meta Description: Join Dr. Jeff Winkle and Dr. David Noe in Ad Navseam Episode 177 as they explore Sophocles’ The Women of Trachis, the guilt of Deianeira, and resources to master the Latin language.


Introduction: Onomastics and Smarchy Weather

Welcome back, classical gourmands, to Episode 177 of the Ad Navseam Podcast! Broadcasting directly from Vomitorium Central, your hosts, Dr. David Noe and Dr. Jeff Winkle, return to the microphones for another discussion of Greco-Roman civilization.

The episode opens with the hosts admiring their recording studio, dubbing it their personal Parnassus. This prompts some brief “navel-gazing,” as the hosts recall the famous omphalos stone at Delphi, describing the mythical belly button of the world as a large lump inscribed with pomegranates. Continuing with personal descriptors, the hosts examine their middle initials. Jeff decides the “T” in his name stands for “Tenacious,” while Dave admits the “C” in his name stands for “Clumsy,” noting he feels prone to tripping over his words.

Dave then shares a joke grounded in the study of onomastics, the science of naming. He proposes a marketing concept for a new sugar substitute designed with a rhythm and blues aesthetic: he would name the product “Stevia Wonder,” allowing the advertising copy to write itself.

The banter shifts to the volatile Michigan weather, which the hosts describe as a “Smarchy” day. Jeff recounts how his outdoorsy son stepped outside in shorts, expecting spring warmth, only to be met with a frozen mix of hail, rain, and giant snowflakes. The hosts commiserate with the boy, acknowledging that March frequently comes in like a lamb and goes out like a lion, a reality that listeners in warmer locations like Pasadena or Texas might struggle to understand. Speaking of warmer climates, the podcast issues an unsolicited birthday shout-out to a listener named Kelly in Florida. Known for tangling with alligators in her backyard and enjoying local gator jerky, Kelly receives a hearty Latin birthday greeting from the hosts: Felicissimum tibi sit natale.

The Heroic Temper and an Ignored Heroine

The primary academic focus of Episode 177 is a deep dive into Sophocles’ tragedy, The Women of Trachis (or Trachiniae). To frame the discussion, Dave references Bernard M.W. Knox’s renowned 1964 book, The Heroic Temper. Knox’s text examines the nature of heroes across the three great tragedians, specifically analyzing the role of suicide. Knox observes that in the seven surviving plays of Aeschylus, not a single character commits suicide on stage. In the eighteen surviving plays of Euripides, there are only four. However, in the seven surviving plays of Sophocles, there are no less than six: Ajax, Antigone, Haemon, Eurydice, Jocasta, and Deianeira. Despite listing Deianeira among these tragic figures, Dave points out a glaring omission. Looking through the index of Knox’s 180-page book, the name Deianeira appears only once, relegated to a single footnote. Knox gives the character no meaningful scholarly attention, confirming the hosts’ sentiment that The Women of Trachis remains a severely underappreciated entry in the classical canon.

Innocent Dupe or Machiavellian Murderess?

The narrative of the play centers entirely on Deianeira’s actions and motives. Jeff suggests that a reader’s appreciation of the tragedy hinges on how they view the protagonist: is she a weak wallflower and an innocent dupe, or is she a complex, Machiavellian murderess?

To explore this dichotomy, Jeff quotes from Edwin Carawan’s 2000 article, Deianeira’s Guilt. Carawan cites the legendary philologist Tycho von Wilamowitz-Moellendorff, who firmly assumed that Deianeira was entirely guiltless from the outset. Under this theory, she acts as a blameless instrument of the gods’ impenetrable design, slaying her husband Heracles unwittingly through the deceptive wiles of a centaur. Jeff notes that the Greek worldview typically assigns blame based on the wicked nature of an action, rather than the internal intent of the actor, complicating the modern desire to exonerate her.

The play opens with Deianeira waiting at home. She recounts her terrifying early courtship by the river god Achelous, who would appear to her as a bull, a writhing snake, or a creature with a man’s belly and a bull’s face. Though Heracles arrived to rescue her from this monster, Deianeira confesses she lives in constant anxiety, fearing that her own beauty is merely a source of pain. The hosts contrast her deep insecurity regarding fading youth with Homer’s depiction of Penelope, who seems unburdened by fears of aging while waiting for Odysseus.

Confusing Oracles and Dueling Messengers

A unique feature of this play is its structural ambiguity. Quoting from Charles Segal’s article on the oracles of Sophocles, Dave explains that the prophecies in The Women of Trachis are deliberately obscure, converging into true meaning only at the very end.

Segal outlines five distinct oracular statements scattered throughout the text. The first involves a tablet stating that if Heracles is absent for fifteen months, he will face terrible woe. The second specifies the location of Euboea as a critical element. The third adds the provenance of Dodona, while the fourth places the origin of the prophecy twelve years in the past. Finally, near the end, Heracles synthesizes these fragments with an ancient warning that no living creature could kill him, realizing his doom must come from the dead. This divine confusion is mirrored by human deception. An anonymous messenger arrives to tell Deianeira that Heracles is victorious and returning home. However, Heracles’ personal herald, Lichas, arrives soon after with a group of captive women. Lichas lies to Deianeira, claiming Heracles destroyed a city simply because he was insulted by its king. The anonymous messenger confronts Lichas, exposing the truth: Heracles sacked the city because he was consumed with lust for the king’s daughter, Iole, who now stands silently among the captives.

Deianeira initially expresses deep pity for the silent Iole, seeing her own traumatic past reflected in the younger woman’s captivity. However, this pity is laced with profound bitterness. Deianeira laments that Heracles wants to pluck new flowers while she is fading, making it difficult for the reader to maintain an image of her as a purely naive, innocent victim.

The Poisoned Robe and the Anti-Telemachus

In response to this betrayal, Deianeira retrieves a hidden box containing a robe smeared with the clotted blood of the centaur Nessus. Years earlier, Heracles shot Nessus with an arrow poisoned by the Hydra. As he died, the monster instructed Deianeira to save his tainted blood as a powerful love charm to secure Heracles’ loyalty.

Deianeira anoints the robe and sends it to Heracles. The hosts note a crucial “tell” in her dialogue; she explicitly states she does not want to know how to commit a crime, a defensive posture that heightens suspicions regarding her true intent.

Shortly after, her son Hyllus returns. Acting as the “anti-Telemachus,” Hyllus shows no domestic loyalty to his mother. He viciously condemns her, wishing she were dead and accusing her of a dastardly, calculated murder. Realizing the inescapable consequences of the poisoned robe, Deianeira quietly exits the stage and kills herself with a sword. The hosts note that dying by the sword is a distinctly heroic exit, elevating her final moments above a standard tragic hanging.

The play concludes with Heracles dying in excruciating agony. In his final moments, Heracles forces a reluctant, horrified Hyllus to promise to marry Iole. The tragedy closes on a harsh theological note, with the chorus observing the vast suffering and declaring that nothing in this entire sequence of events is apart from the design of Zeus.

Sponsors: Fueling the Classical Renaissance

Before sharing the parting shot, the hosts extend their gratitude to the sponsors keeping the podcast operational.

The Gustatory Parting Shot

To close out Episode 177, the hosts extend a special thanks to Mishka the sound engineer for her consistently fast turnaround times. Musical gratitude is directed to Scott Van Zen and Ken Tamplin, the talented gents behind the bumper music and the arpeggiated intro and outro guitar tracks. Next week, the podcast will feature an interview with Bram ten Berge from Hope College to discuss the prose of Tacitus.

Jeff then delivers a musical Gustatory Parting Shot, quoting from the title track of Supertramp’s 1979 album, Breakfast in America.

Reciting the classic rock lyric, Jeff asks:

“Can we have kippers for breakfast, mummy dear, mummy dear? They got to have ’em in Texas, ’cause everyone’s a millionaire.”

Check out the “Lurch with Merch” section on the website, beware of centaurs bearing gifts, and keep taking in the classics. Valete!

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