Meta Description: Join Dr. David Noe and Dr. Jeff Winkle in Ad Navseam Episode 40 for the “Rerun You Never Heard.” Special guest Dr. Mike Fontaine of Cornell University joins the Vomitorium to discuss his new book, How to Tell a Joke. Explore the Latin language of laughter, why Romans loved “salty” wit, and whether humor can actually be taught.


Introduction: We Can Rebuild Him

Welcome back to the “Vomitorium,” listeners! It is Episode 40 of the Ad Navseam Podcast, and your hosts, Dr. David Noe and Dr. Jeff Winkle, are feeling a mix of relief and triumph. Why? Because today’s episode is legally known as “The Rerun You Never Heard.”

The first time the team attempted to record this interview with their distinguished guest, the technology gods frowned upon them. The audio crashed, the files were corrupted, and the brilliant insights were lost to the ether. But, channeling the spirit of the Six Million Dollar Man, Dr. Noe declared: “We can rebuild him. We have the technology.” And so, like a digital Lazarus, Dr. Michael Fontaine returns to the microphone for take two .

Dr. Fontaine is a Professor of Classics at Cornell University (home of the “Big Red,” though Dr. Noe admits he’s unsure of the mascot’s actual biological form). He is a titan in the field of the Latin language, known not just for reading it, but for speaking it. He organizes “Latinitas” conferences where scholars gather to banter in the tongue of Cicero, keeping the language alive and vibrant. Today, however, he is speaking English to discuss his delightful new book: How to Tell a Joke: An Ancient Guide to the Art of Humor.

Shout-Out: A Delayed Tribute

Before we get to the punchlines, we have a shout-out that Dr. Winkle admits is “a little bit overdue”. This week, we salute Michael Krogh.

Michael is a 2006 graduate of Calvin University (back when it was Calvin College) with a B.A. in Latin education. He went on to earn an M.A. from the University of Florida and currently teaches at the Montrose School in Medfield, Massachusetts, an all-girls school where he undoubtedly navigates the perilous waters of teenage humor daily. To Michael and all the magistri keeping the classics alive: Salvete!.

The Book: How to Tell a Joke

Dr. Fontaine’s book is part of the “Ancient Wisdom for Modern Readers” series by Princeton University Press. If you’ve seen those lovely, pocket-sized hardcovers (like How to Die or How to Win an Argument), you know the aesthetic.

But How to Tell a Joke is unique. It isn’t a straight translation of a single text. Instead, Dr. Fontaine has curated and translated the best parts of Quintilian’s Education of the Orator (Book 6, Chapter 3), sprinkled with gems from Cicero and Macrobius. It is a handbook on the theory and practice of Roman wit.

Dr. Noe asks the million-denarii question right off the bat: Can humor be taught? Quintilian, the great Roman educator, was skeptical. He believed humor was largely a matter of natura (nature). You either have the “funny bone” or you don’t. However, Dr. Fontaine argues—and Quintilian eventually concedes—that while you can’t teach someone to be naturally funny, you can teach them the “theory of the joke.” You can teach them when to joke, how to joke, and crucially, when not to joke.

The Vocabulary of Laughter: Salt, Vinegar, and the City

One of the most fascinating aspects of the interview is the deep dive into the Latin language of humor. Romans didn’t just say “that’s funny.” They had a rich culinary vocabulary for wit.

Dr. Fontaine points out that for the Romans, humor was a weapon of social exclusion. If you didn’t “get” the joke, or if your jokes were too “rustic,” you didn’t belong in the elite circle. It was a way of policing the boundaries of the res publica.

The Danger of the Joke: Dignity vs. Buffoonery

Why did Romans need a guide on how to joke? Because joking was dangerous.

Dr. Fontaine explains that for a Roman senator or orator, dignitas (dignity) was everything. If you tell a joke, you risk looking like a scurra (a buffoon or professional clown).

“The main anxiety… is that you’re going to demean yourself. You’re going to look like a clown.”

If you slip on a banana peel, people laugh, but you lose respect. The trick, according to Cicero and Quintilian, is to make others look ridiculous while maintaining your own gravity. You want to be the one laughing, not the one being laughed at.

Dr. Noe notes that this anxiety is still present today. We all know that person who tries too hard to be funny at a dinner party and ends up just being awkward. The Romans codified that awkwardness and warned against it.

Cicero: The Stand-Up Consul

The hero of Roman humor is undoubtedly Cicero. Dr. Fontaine describes him as a “stand-up consul.” He couldn’t stop himself.

Cicero was famous—and feared—for his sharp tongue. He would roast anyone, friend or foe, if the setup was right.

The Monkey Joke:

Dr. Fontaine shares a classic Cicero zinger. Cicero’s brother, Quintus, was a very short man. One day, Cicero saw a giant statue of a warrior, but someone had painted Quintus’s face on it (or perhaps it was a bust of Quintus on a huge shield).

Cicero looked at it and quipped:

“Who tied my brother to that sword?”

It’s a sick burn. It implies his brother is so small he looks like an accessory to the weapon.

The “Tie Him Up” Joke:

Another favorite involves a politician named Domitius Ahenobarbus (an ancestor of Nero). Domitius was known for being dark, brooding, and terrifyingly serious.

Cicero said: “It’s not enough to set up a statue of him. You have to tie it up to keep it from hurting someone.”

The Romans loved this kind of acetum—biting, slightly cruel, but undeniably clever.

Dad Jokes and Puns

Did the Romans like Dad Jokes? Absolutely. Dr. Fontaine reveals that Romans were obsessed with puns (ambiguitas). Cicero loved wordplay, even though later critics like Quintilian found it a bit cheap. A pun requires a mastery of the Latin language. You have to know the double meanings of words to twist them. For example, the word tollere can mean “to raise up/exalt” or “to remove/kill.” So when Cicero said, “We must praise the young man, honor him, and tollere him,” everyone froze. Did he mean “exalt him” or “take him out”? The ambiguity was the joke.

Macrobius: The Vault of Jokes

Dr. Fontaine also introduces listeners to Macrobius, a writer from late antiquity (c. 400 AD). Macrobius wrote a book called the Saturnalia, which is essentially a transcript of a drunken dinner party where pagan intellectuals gathered to preserve the old culture before Christianity took over completely.

Book 2 of the Saturnalia is a “vault of jokes.” It is a collection of all the best zingers from the classical age, preserved like mosquitoes in amber. Without Macrobius, we wouldn’t know half of Cicero’s punchlines. It is a treasure trove for anyone interested in the Latin language of laughter.

Sponsors: Fuel for Your Wit

This deep dive into the ancient art of the joke is brought to you by three sponsors who take their craft seriously:

Conclusion: Mysteries of Mithras

As the laughter dies down, Dr. Noe and Dr. Winkle look ahead to next week. They are leaving the comedy club and heading into the dark, smoky caves of religion. Next Week: The Mysteries of Mithras. What is Mithras? As Dr. Winkle explains, it was a “mystery cult” popular among Roman soldiers. It involved bulls, caves, secret handshakes, and a theology that rivaled Christianity for centuries. It is mysterious in every sense of the word, and Dr. Winkle (who has some expertise here) will be taking the lead.

The Gustatory Parting Shot

We wrap up this episode with a quote from the realm of pop music, specifically Pink Floyd. It is a line that Dr. Winkle identifies with, perhaps remembering his own childhood dinner table battles:

“If you don’t eat your meat, you can’t have any pudding! How can you have any pudding if you don’t eat your meat?”

A fitting end for a podcast that serves up the “meat” of classical history with the “pudding” of humor.

Valete!


Resources for the Latin Learner:The Moss Method: Want to read Cicero’s jokes in the original Latin? Or perhaps the New Testament in Greek? Dr. Noe’s self-paced courses take you from “Neophyte to Erudite.” Visit latinperdiem.com to start your journey .

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