Meta Description: Join Dr. Jeff Winkle and Dr. David Noe in Ad Navseam Episode 114 as they explore Aeneid Book 10. Discover the rage of Aeneas, the tragedy of Pallas, AI limericks, and resources to master the Latin language.
Introduction: Spring Break and Virtual Pilgrimages
Welcome back, classical gourmands, to Episode 114 of our classically-themed gustatory podcast, Ad Navseam! Broadcasting directly from the subterranean depths of Vomitorium South, your hosts, Dr. David Noe (the ‘C’ stands for crotchety) and Dr. Jeff Winkle (the ‘T’ stands for tremendous or trepidatious), return to the microphones for another delectable discussion of Greco-Roman civilization.
The episode opens with the hosts catching up on their respective university schedules. Jeff is currently enjoying his spring break, though he notes that a Michigan spring break typically involves dealing with ten feet of solid ice. Unbothered by the frozen tundra, Jeff has spent his time working on a fascinating personal project: creating virtual Google Earth tours of ancient archaeological sites under the banner of Peregrinatio (pilgrimage). He has meticulously mapped out virtual fly-throughs of Dodona (the Oracle of Zeus) and the Healing Sanctuary of Asclepius at Epidaurus. Dave jokes that the tours must be highly advanced, asking if they feature “scratch and sniff” technology so viewers can smell the ancient incense. Jeff laughs, admitting the tech isn’t quite there yet, but he plans to link his droll, witty narrations on the podcast’s website.
Killing the Double: The Death of Lausus
The core academic focus of Episode 114 pushes into the back half of Vergil’s Aeneid Book 10. The hosts warn that the narrative takes a dark, highly Iliadic turn, featuring one bloody, grueling death after another.
To frame the discussion, Jeff reads a quote from Tim Stover’s 2011 Phoenix article entitled Aeneas and Lausus, Killing the Double and Civil War in Aeneid 10. Stover argues that when the young, innocent Etruscan warrior Lausus steps onto the battlefield to save his cruel father, Mezentius, Aeneas is forced to kill his own doppelganger. Dave jokingly connects this concept of “doubles” to the classic Doublemint gum commercials featuring strolling twins, but he deeply appreciates the German term doppelganger.
When Aeneas strikes the fatal blow, he looks at Lausus’s pale face and groans in pity. He recognizes the young man’s pietas (filial loyalty), a virtue that Aeneas famously possesses regarding his own father, Anchises. In this incredibly tragic moment, Aeneas even refers to himself as “Aeneas, the true”. Dave astutely points out that this trope—where the hero reluctantly dispatches a foe who mirrors his own virtues—forces the hero to realize, “there but for the grace of God, go I”.
The hosts compare this flash of battlefield humanity to Achilles in the Iliad. Achilles only recovers his profound human empathy inside his tent when he gazes upon King Priam in Book 24. Dave suggests that because Aeneas’s primary task is to establish the Roman people and build civilization, his humanity must break through directly on the battlefield. Achilles, on the other hand, is a pure force of destructive nature designed to prove that natural superiority easily beats the artificial customs of men like Agamemnon. Aeneas, while briefly operating as a brutal puppet of fate to achieve his destined ends, is never completely surrendered to endless bloodlust.
The Aristeia of Pallas and Macabre Masterpieces
Before Lausus falls, Evander’s young son, Pallas, takes center stage. Sick of watching his Arcadian allies panic and run from the Rutulians, Pallas delivers a blistering rallying speech, reminding them that honor demands they fight where the battle line is thickest.
Fired up, Pallas rushes headlong into the fray and executes a spectacular aristeia (a momentary spotlight of unmatched battlefield skill). During this killing spree, he encounters the twin brothers Larides and Thymber. Vergil explicitly notes that their parents found their identical faces a sweet perplexity, but Pallas makes them incredibly easy to tell apart: he lops off Thymber’s head with a sword. Meanwhile, Larides’s severed hand drops to the dirt, its dying fingers violently twitching as they continuously shift their grip on the sword hilt. Jeff and Dave marvel at Vergil’s macabre genius, arguing that forcing a reader’s imagination to construct the image of a twitching, severed hand is vastly more disturbing and evocative than any modern Hollywood CGI sequence.
The Duel, the Belt, and Unspeakable Crime
The battle’s momentum swings back and forth like a chaotic soccer or lacrosse match until the inevitable duel between Pallas and Turnus occurs.
Realizing he is entirely outmatched, Pallas desperately prays to Hercules for assistance. The narrative zooms up to Mount Olympus, where Hercules hears the prayer but can only stifle a heavy groan and shed useless tears because he knows Pallas is fated to die. Jupiter comforts his weeping son with philosophical platitudes, reminding him that “each has his own day,” and that even mighty Sarpedon fell at Troy. Jupiter also offers a chilling bit of consolation: fate calls Turnus soon as well, meaning Pallas’s death will not go unavenged.
Turnus subsequently slaughters Pallas. In a horrific display of hubris, Turnus plants his foot on the corpse and rips away Pallas’s massive sword belt (balteus or baldric) to wear as a trophy. Vergil painstakingly describes the belt’s intricate engraving: the fifty daughters of Danaus murdering their Egyptian bridegrooms on their nuptial night, an act described as an unspeakable crime (nefas). Jeff theorizes that the brutal wedding imagery intentionally foreshadows Turnus’s own looming doom. Aeneas has effectively arrived in Italy to play the role of Paris, stealing Lavinia away and ruining Turnus’s wedding. By glorying in the blood-soaked prize, Turnus practically begs for cosmic nemesis to swoop down and crush him.
The Berserker Rage of Aeneas
When news of Pallas’s death reaches Aeneas, he flies into a terrifying, berserker rage. Acting entirely like Achilles, Aeneas wildly rounds up live captives to serve as human sacrifices on Pallas’s funeral pyre, an act that Dave and Jeff agree is completely beyond the pale.
Aeneas’s total loss of humanity is best highlighted when he encounters Magus. Magus falls in supplication, desperately grabbing Aeneas’s knees and begging for mercy by the ghosts of Aeneas’s own father and son. Magus promises buried talents of chaste silver and unwrought gold as a ransom. Aeneas coldly rejects the sordid bribe, violently bends back the suppliant’s neck, and buries his sword up to the hilt. The hosts compare this merciless execution to Odysseus violently decapitating the soothsayer Leodes in the Odyssey. Aeneas reaches his absolute lowest moral point when he slaughters Tarquitus, cruelly denying the man a burial by promising his corpse will be left for vultures and hungry fish to nibble at.
Phantom Aeneas and Drum Solos
While the slaughter rages, Jupiter casually needles Juno on Olympus, mocking her by claiming Venus is solely responsible for the Trojan success. Enraged, Juno exploits a divine loophole. She crafts a phantom replica of Aeneas to trick Turnus into chasing the apparition onto a moored ship. Juno then violently severs the cable, sending Turnus drifting safely down the coast. Trapped on the boat and robbed of his heroic glory, a miserable Turnus actively contemplates suicide.
With Turnus absent, Mezentius enters the fray to execute his own aristeia. The hosts humorously compare an aristeia to an overindulgent, six-minute rock drum solo where the musician finally shows off decades of practice while the rest of the band steps aside. Jeff admits that whenever a band launches into a drum or bass solo, he immediately abandons the concert to wait in the lobby.
The drum solo abruptly ends when Aeneas spears Mezentius’s horse, pinning the Etruscan king to the dirt. Aeneas cruelly taunts the trapped man. Having already watched his son Lausus die, Mezentius begs for no truce, asking only that his body be buried alongside his boy to guard it from the hatred of his own people. Aeneas offers no comforting words; he simply remains completely silent as he drives his blade through the king’s throat, sending a sluice of blood streaming into the dirt to close the book.
Sponsors: Coffee, Books, and AI Failures
Before the parting shot, Dave and Jeff thank the sponsors keeping the bunker operational.
- Ratio Coffee: Banish bad coffee with the Ratio 8 and Ratio 6 machines, which execute a perfect automated pour-over utilizing a metal cone for an optimal bloom and brew. Dave recently asked the AI program ChatGPT to write a limerick about coffee, and the generative transformer spit out a pathetic rhyme pairing “wake” with “awake” and ending with the atrocious line, “Coffee, my love, give me a break”. Save yourself from bad AI poetry and bad coffee by visiting ratiocoffee.com and using the promo code ANCO9Y (the ‘Y’ stands for Yankovic) to receive 15% off your entire order.
- Hackett Publishing: Celebrating over 51 years of business out of Cambridge, MA and Indianapolis, IN, Hackett provides phenomenal, highly affordable translations. Jeff notes his students love Stanley Lombardo’s translations so much that they frequently read five books ahead of the syllabus. Dave asked ChatGPT to write a second limerick about books, yielding another horrifying poem describing a reader who “devoured them like tasty cooks”. Stick to human translation by visiting hackettpublishing.com and entering AN2023 to receive 20% off and free shipping.
- LatinPerDiem & MossMethod: Dave offers unparalleled online courses to help students master the Latin language and ancient Greek. The Moss Method takes students from neophyte to erudite through 40 video lessons and weekly live office hours. Alternatively, visit latinperdiem.com/llpsi to learn Latin via Hans Ørberg’s Lingua Latina Per Se Illustrata.
The Gustatory Parting Shot
To officially wrap up Episode 114, Dave delivers a Gustatory Parting Shot courtesy of Michael Pollan’s 2007 book, The Omnivore’s Dilemma.
Pollan highlights a strange cultural hypocrisy regarding our treatment of animals:
“Half the dogs in America will receive Christmas presents this year. Yet few of us ever pause to consider the life of the pig, an animal easily as intelligent as a dog that becomes the Christmas ham.”
Dave is immediately highly suspicious of Pollan’s unverified dog statistics, but he fully agrees that pigs, having grown up on a hog farm himself, are brilliant creatures. However, Jeff stubbornly concludes that he is unwilling to give up eating bacon just so a pig can get a Christmas present.A special thanks goes out to Mishka the sound engineer, and to Scott Van Zen and Ken Tamplin for providing the blistering guitar riffs. Check out the “Lurch with Merch” section on the website, beware of AI-generated limericks, and keep taking in the classics. Valete!
