Meta Description: Join Dr. Jeff Winkle and Dr. David Noe in Ad Navseam Episode 93 as they close out the tragic finale of Virgil’s Aeneid Book IV. Discover the significance of Dido’s funeral pyre, the psychological need for break-up bonfires, and the performative power of the Latin language. Plus, a dive into the Bonfire of the Vanities and an Amy Tan parting shot.
Introduction: Late Summer Rhythms and Ziggy Stardust
Welcome back, classical gourmands, to Episode 93 of the Ad Navseam Podcast! Broadcasting from the cool depths of Vomitorium South (affectionately known as the bunker), your hosts, Dr. David Noe and Dr. Jeff Winkle, are soaking in a balmy mid-August morning in West Michigan. Jeff recently returned from a relaxing week in the beautiful northern country of the state and is feeling completely ready for the predictable, contemplative rhythms of the upcoming academic semester.
There is talk of establishing a more regular, once-a-week podcast release schedule moving forward, though Jeff notes that Dave’s incredibly busy schedule makes him rather hard to pin down. Dave has his hands (and surprisingly, his feet) in many different projects, leading to a highly comical mix-up of idioms involving pies. This transitional summer season prompts Jeff to drop a pop-culture reference to the song “Changes” by David Bowie—specifically referencing the late artist’s alter ego, Ziggy Stardust. With the initial banter out of the way, the hosts turn their attention to what they describe as the fastigium (the apex or high point) of Roman epic poetry.
The Shout-Out: Father Pellican and the Latin Language
This week features an exceptionally thoughtful shout-out from a super-fan of the show, Father David Pellican, a Catholic priest serving at the Divine Child parish and school in Dearborn, Michigan. Father Pellican recently attended a cenaculum where he spoke the Latin language exclusively for an entire week. He champions a robust Latin program at his high school and periodically celebrates the mass in Latin for interested students, skillfully bridging his ecclesiastical tradition with a deep, abiding love for classical antiquity.
Dave uses this wonderful piece of correspondence to tease an upcoming episode based on Carl Richard’s book about the golden era of classics in the United States. In nineteenth-century pedagogy, an intense debate raged between those who believed the sole purpose of studying ancient texts was mastering strict grammar, and visionaries like Basil Gildersleeve who argued that the language must be completely subservient to understanding the people, the culture, and the deeply human failings of the ancients. Father Pelican perfectly embodies this holistic appreciation of the ancient world.
The Opening Quote: Why a Funeral Pyre?
The main event of Episode 93 is the tragic conclusion of Vergil’s Aeneid Book IV. To set the scholarly stage, Jeff reads an opening quote from a mid-1970s Classical Journal article by R.T. Edgeworth titled “The Death of Dido”.
Edgeworth asks a fascinating, highly specific question regarding the text: Why does Dido choose to meet her demise atop a blazing funeral pyre? The author points out the apparent incongruity of this choice. In classical literature, the canonical mode of suicide for tragic heroines and queens is death by hanging—as seen with Antigone, Jocasta, Phaedra, and later Amata in Book XII of the Aeneid. Dr. Winkle also points out that Arachne is another famous figure who hung herself, though her tragedy stemmed from simple hubris against the gods rather than a complex romantic betrayal.
Alternatively, Edgeworth argues that death by poison would have been an unmistakable historical reference to Cleopatra. While Ariadne and Medea serve as primary literary models for the abandoned Carthaginian queen, neither of them actually commits suicide. So why does Vergil script this fiery, dramatic exit for Dido? The hosts promise to unpack this intriguing literary decision as they navigate the final lines of the text.
The Great Purge and the Bonfire of the Vanities
To recap the narrative: Aeneas, spurred by a second divine intervention from the messenger god Mercury, is actively preparing his fleet to leave the shores of North Africa. Dido, consumed by grief and rage, deceives her sister Anna. She claims she needs to construct a pyre to enact a magical ritual—either to cure her of her love or to effectively curse the Trojan hero. She commands Anna to gather all the weapons, clothing, and the very bed Aeneas left behind, intending to burn them in a fiery purge.
This ancient coping mechanism sparks a relatable, entertaining modern digression. Jeff compares Dido’s ritual to an episode of the 1990s sitcom Friends, where the main characters conduct a ceremonial burning of a bad ex-boyfriend’s belongings to help a friend move on. Dave asks if Jeff is a “purger” when it comes to old academic notes and past relationships. Jeff admits he is a total pack rat, keeping undergraduate notebooks simply for the doodles he made in the margins. Dave, conversely, is a ruthless purger who loves to jettison physical objects to clear his mental space. Dave questions if getting rid of the physical objects actually effaces the memory. He argues that you cannot burn a memory, but the physical destruction provides a deeply vicarious satisfaction—a way of returning to ‘square one’ physically when you cannot do so mentally.
This leads to a discussion of the ultimate historical purge: Girolamo Savonarola’s “Bonfire of the Vanities” in late-fifteenth-century Florence. Citizens threw their luxuries, books, and art into the piazza flames. Dave admits he still tosses and turns in a cold sweat thinking about the painter Sandro Botticelli willingly tossing some of his own masterpieces into the fire out of a sense of moral rectitude. As Dave notes, burning an offensive cloak or a bad pair of socks is fine, but destroying a Botticelli painting is an absolute tragedy.
The Flames of Carthage: A Visual Curse
Returning to the epic, Dave highlights Vergil’s superb Latin language describing the dark magic of the scene, pointing out the specific phrase lacte veneni (the milk of black poison). Dido mounts the pyre and falls upon the sword of Aeneas.
But this brings the discussion back to Edgeworth’s opening question: why a pyre?
The answer is profoundly cinematic. Dido chooses to die on a towering pyre located at the highest point of the city’s citadel because she wants Aeneas to see the flames. As the Trojan fleet sails out into the Mediterranean, the blazing fire illuminates the night sky. Even though Aeneas does not know exactly what is burning, the sight of the flames fills the Trojans with a deep, dark sense of foreboding. Dido’s death is not just a tragic end; it is a highly calculated, visual curse cast across the water. It ensures that the guilt of his departure will literally light up the horizon as he sails away.
The Golden Lock: Iris and the Release of Dido
The episode concludes with one of the most poignant, beautifully constructed scenes in the entire epic. Because Dido’s death was premature and driven by madness rather than fate, the queen of the underworld, Proserpina, had not yet clipped the golden lock of hair from Dido’s head—a necessary ritual to release her soul to the afterlife.
Taking pity on Dido’s agonizing, lingering death, Juno dispatches the rainbow goddess Iris. Sweeping down from Mount Olympus, Iris hovers over Dido and delivers a final, solemn declaration: “This offering I consecrate to the underworld, and release you from your body”.
As soon as the lock is cut, all of the queen’s warmth ebbs away, and her life completely withdraws into the winds. Jeff notes the structural genius of this moment: the final lines of Book IV are strikingly similar to the very last lines of the entire epic regarding the death of Turnus in Book XII. This architectural parallel proves the meticulous, finished quality of Vergil’s masterpiece.
Sponsors: Fuel for the Classical Renaissance
Before exiting the bunker, the hosts thank the loyal sponsors who make the show possible:
- Hackett Publishing: Mentioned directly in Father Pellican’s shout-out, Hackett is the premier destination for classical literature. They offer Stanley Lombardo’s superb translations of the Odyssey and the Aeneid. Build your library by visiting hackettpublishing.com and entering the coupon code AN2022 for 20% off and free shipping.
- Latin Per Diem: Want to read Vergil’s epic poetry or Homer’s heroic verse in the original text? Go to latinperdiem.com/llpsi to sign up for Dr. Noe’s Lingua Latina Per Se Illustrata course for only $199.
- The Rapid Response Team: Huge thanks to the audio engineer Mishka for consistently working miracles on compressed schedules, and to the incredibly talented musicians Scott Van Zen and Ken Tamplin for the energetic guitar arpeggios that open and close the show.
The Gustatory Parting Shot
Episode 93 wraps up with a look ahead to next week, where the hosts will take a brief break from the Aeneid to explore a famous article by Renaissance scholar Charles Trinkaus regarding the dignity of man.
To send the listeners off, Dave delivers an amusing Gustatory Parting Shot from the acclaimed Chinese-American novelist Amy Tan:
“I am a miserable cook, but an extremely talented eater.”
It is a sentiment perfectly suited for classical gourmands everywhere. Until next week, Valete!
