Submissions + Interviews
Ad Vitam welcomes submissions from Classicists and aspiring-Classicists.
Here are some below!
Planets and the Gods: From Roman Myth to Planetary Science
BY SILIVIA KANG
Although their names are well known, few recall the reason we call five planets Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn. When were these universal names decided on? Why were these names given to the planets? The ancient Romans named the planets based on observable phenomena and the deities they resembled; for example, since Mars is red and sinister, it was named after the god of war. The reason these planets wound up with Roman names is because most astronomers in Europe wrote in Latin, and Latin was spoken in the Roman Empire. In this paper, we will explore how planets’ names reflect astronomical observations and how modern science builds upon those observations to discover the real physical nature of planets.
Ancient Roman astronomers effectively bridged mythology and astronomy, as they gave each planet a name based on observable physicalities: speed, color, and brightness. For example, Jupiter is the largest planet in the solar system and was named after the king of the Roman gods; Mercury only takes 88 Earth days to move around the Sun and was named after the speedy messenger of the Roman gods; Saturn is the solar system’s second-largest planet and takes 29 Earth years to move around the Sun and was named after the Roman god of agriculture and time due to its slow motion; Venus is the brightest planet and was named after the Roman goddess of beauty; since Mars has a reddish color and was named after the Roman god of war.
Since they didn’t have the advanced telescopes used by astronomers today, they differentiated planets from stars using retrograde motion, which is when a planet appears to be moving backward in relation to its surrounding stars. Ptolemaic astronomers explained this irregular retrograde motion in planets by creating epicycles, whereas modern science attributes it to different orbital positions. Either way, the detection of retrograde motion even before telescopes demonstrates the ancient Romans’ quantitative sky-watching.
Despite perceptions that ancient Roman myths regarding planets were random stories, they were early attempts to interpret the cosmos. The ancients connected visible traits to human experience because they lacked the tools to measure or explain them physically; the ancient Romans took command of their myths in order to describe real phenomena.
Currently, science provides the evidence and explanation for what myth tried to comprehend: spectroscopy has replaced symbolism; orbital mechanics have replaced divine will. Yet the human impulse is the same: to the true implications of outer space. Despite their lack of knowledge of atmospheres or albedo, the Romans’ curiosity mirrored our own, and their myths remind us that the desire to understand the universe is as old as humanity itself.
Generally, as our technology advances, our explanations change. The Romans looked upward seeking meaning; scientists today look outward seeking truth. No matter how advanced the astronomical tools, there is a pattern of humans taking advantage of the clues nature gives them in order to make sense of the unknown. Moreover, the evolution from myth to modern science suggests that imagination can be paired with evidence to be used as partners in discovery: even though the gods have been replaced with physics and data, both approaches express humans’ curiosity of the cosmos. The ancient Roman names for the planets in our solar system reflect a principle of human nature: our yearning to connect ourselves to the vast universe around us.
From Olympus to Appalachia: The Collapse and Reconstruction of Heroism
By Xinyue (Jessica) Xie
When my Latin teacher, Mr. Tomas, posed mid-seminar, “Was Orpheus a hero?” I
resolutely dismissed it as pointless. Orpheus, whose grief for his Eurydice had moved mountains
and stirred the natural world, perilously trekked through the Underworld for the sake of his wife.
Yet over the next few months, I found myself returning to that question, grappling with the ideals
of heroism and what truly constitutes as heroism. When I read Charles Frazier’s novel, Cold
Mountain, I was reminded of the same question as Frazier invoked ancient Greco-Roman
mythological references as he traced through both heroism and its absence in the protagonists’
lives amidst the Civil War.
In Homer’s Odyssey, Odysseus’ desire to return home to Penelope is the major driving
force of the story. However, in this rendition, Inman is a bitter Confederate deserter, disgusted
and disillusioned with the cause of the war. As he is retelling his tale from the Battle of Crater to
a blind man, he recalls how senselessly the Federals had perished, “marching by the thousands at
the wall all through the day, climbing the hill to be shot down” to the point where “Inman just
got to hating them for their clodpated determination to die” (Frazier, 11). As opposed to Homer’s
epics of glory and camaraderie for those who bravely fought in the Trojan War, Inman’s recount
draws a stark contemporary contrast to the slaughter of soldiers marching towards their deaths,
led by Major General Burnside, who, instead of remobilizing, continued to send even more
troops into the trap, resulting in over 3,800 Union casualties, and 1,500 Confederacy casualties.
In Frazier’s presentation of war, narrated closely in structure with that of The Odyssey, he is able
to contrast the romanticized, glorified depiction of war with the futile efforts of the realities of
the Civil War.
The role of women and how they move through the world of Cold Mountain, a
patriarchal society, displays a newfound heroism within these women during a time when men
are scarce, but also an ugliness in the social norms of the society in which they are continuously
suppressed. One of the most stark images of this is when Ruby is retelling a tale that her mother
passed down. Similar to the tale of Leda and the Swan, where Zeus, afflicted with lust, turns into
a swan and rapes Leda, Ruby’s mother claims that she got pregnant with Ruby in a similar way:
when “the heron strode up on its long back-hinged legs and looked her eye to eye...[s]he turned
and ran, but the heron chased her into the house, where... the heron came upon her from behind”
(Fazier, 194). Both the swan and the heron symbolize historically grounded themes of the sexual
abuse of women during this period. During the Civil War, around 400 men were prosecuted for
sexual crimes against women. We see this theme recurring again and again, with Veasey’s rape of
the girl from the village where he lived, and his dehumanizing treatment of the Black prostitute,
Tildey. Yet what makes these moments especially unsettling is not only their frequency, but their
normalization of how violence against women is absorbed into story, almost folkloric, as if the
repetition diminishes its horror. In this way, the heron is not only an aberration but a symbol of a
society that avoids naming sexist violence for what it is, and disguises it in myth.
Ultimately, Cold Mountain forces the reader to reconsider heroism through the lens of
both Greek myth and historical reality. The escape from death achieved by Homeric figures like
Orpheus finds no analogue in the world of Inman and his peers. Where Orpheus charismatically
charmed his way to the Underworld with his hypnotic lyre, Inman and his contemporaries faced
the humility of their precarious mortalities, and lived in a world where the courage to deviate
from societal conventions was perilous, moral clarity was scarce, and mere survival itself
became heroic. As I reflected on Mr. Tomas’ question about Orpheus, I realized that heroism is a
human quality measured against circumstance, adversity, and the moral weight of one’s choices.
Through the weaving of ancient myths, Cold Mountain compels us to ask: in a world without
divine order or romanticized narrations of glory, what does it truly mean to be heroic?
To explore how Classics is studied and shared today, I spoke with two people working in the field in very different ways. One is a Classics professor at the University of Pennsylvania whom I met after a lecture he performed in Philadelphia. The other is a young woman from England who runs a Classics magazine called the Aothen Magazine, while bringibg the ancient world to a modern audience.
Interview with Jeremy: The Value of Classics
1. Why do you think studying Classics is still important today?
Jeremy: “I think that when people think about education these days they have a very narrow idea about what a practicality is and decide to dismiss the idea of studying Classics because ‘it’s not practical.’ But Classics is really about expanding imagination and critical skills by engaging in a world less familiar and less like our own that we usually expect. It has the advantage of seeing the world with a different set of values.” For Jeremy, Classics is valuable precisely because it takes students outside of the world they already know. Through ancient texts and archaeology, students develop “very specific skills of close reading and analysis” while learning to approach unfamiliar cultures and perspectives.
2. Q: Why should we care about understanding people who lived thousands of years ago?
Jeremy: “One is that knowing the Greeks and Romans is getting to know your grandparents.” He believes that studying the ancient world helps us understand our own cultural identity. “We are connected to them and their cultural DNA. I don’t think you know who you are until you find out where you are.” At the same time, Jeremy believes it is important to study the ancient world honestly, including its flaws. “They are human beings who made mistakes,” he says, emphasizing that understanding both the good and bad qualities of ancient societies allows us to see them as complicated human beings rather than simply idealizing them.
3. Q: What skills does Classics give students that they can use outside of Classics?
Jeremy: “In college, learning to read very carefully and pay respect to detail in research is a skill set applicable anywhere. It’s something we nourish in Classical studies.” Jeremy points to one student who studied both pre-med and Classics. She considered Classics her “sanity major” because she found it straightforward, fixed, useful, and comforting. To Jeremy, her experience shows that Classics can complement almost any other field. “You do better when you challenge yourself on many different fronts.”
4. Q: What advice would you give to students who are interested in Classics?
Jeremy: “Try to find teachers who have a background in Classics to tutor you or explain the material” and help you explore special studies or electives. But his larger advice is to experiment with different subjects before college. “Try as many different disciplines and subjects and try to identify yourself: what are the things you’re good at or what are the things that challenge you?”
Interview with Samantha: Finding Your Way Into Classics
1. Q: What advice would you give to students who are interested in Classics but feel like they are behind?
Samantha: “As someone who grew up in Asia, and therefore very far from both the Mediterranean and classical education in general, my biggest piece of advice is to not be scared that you’re behind.” Rather than trying to read everything at once, Samantha recommends starting with whatever genuinely interests you. “I would go fishing around online or at your local library for topics that interest you. Politics, fashion, philosophy, mythology, art, etc.—there’s plenty of variety to explore.” She also recommends beginning with introductory books before jumping into ancient texts. “Overall, don’t worry about getting a bit of everything, just focus on what you’re drawn to, and with time you’re likely to find yourself branching out naturally.”
2. Q: How has learning an ancient language changed the way you think?
Samantha: “I always like to say that learning Greek opened up my world. Reading and writing in a different language compels you to think differently.” For Samantha, the value of learning Greek goes beyond simply being able to translate ancient texts. “Some words, grammatical structures, and ideas are simply untranslatable, and being exposed to them in the original allows students to exercise their critical thinking and imagination in a way that can’t be replicated with a translation.” She also found that studying Greek gave her “a really valuable grasp on grammatical principles that improves my understanding of languages in general.”
3. Q: Why is Classics relevant to the modern world?
Samantha: “It may not be obvious at first, but Classics are hugely relevant to modern Western politics.” She explained that ancient Greek and Roman imagery and ideas are frequently used today to support modern political arguments and identities.
“One example that comes to mind is the usage of Roman and Greek art as an example of Western supremacy.” Samantha argues that studying Classics critically is important because it allows students to recognize when the ancient world is being misrepresented or used to support harmful ideas. “Being able to study Classics and engage in critical readings of classical reception is crucial to counteracting the dissemination of these harmful narratives.”
4. Q: What is one surprising fact from the ancient world that has stuck with you?
Samantha: “My favorite fun fact is one that I learnt in the first year of my undergraduate degree—to the Romans, peppercorns were worth more than their weight in gold.” For Samantha, the fact is interesting not just because of its shock value, but because it shows how dramatically our relationship with everyday resources has changed. “It’s fascinating to me how humanity has gone from perceiving foods like pepper and salt as greatly valuable resources to having them in just about every supermarket.”
Please submit your articles and ideas for publication