Championing Odysseus, part one: an interview with Cath Mayo

Cath Mayo and David Hair are New Zealand authors whose fascination with ancient culture led them to a shared goal.  They’ve both written young adult novels with classical twists.  Cath’s Young Adult novels, Murder at Mykenai and The Bow (written under the name Catherine Mayo) explore the life of a young Odysseus.  The Bow is analysed on the Our Mythical Childhood survey here.   Cath and David have just released their first co-written novelAthena’s ChampionIt’s the first in their ‘Olympus Trilogy,’ and marks a new venture for these two writers.  

Athena’s Champion is not aimed at youth audiences, but will likely cross over, and it seems timely to interview them both about their work bringing classical antiquity to modern youth audiences.  I’m beginning by interviewing Cath, and will post my interview with David in the next couple of weeks.  

Cath is an author, fiddle-player, violin-maker, sailor, mountain-climber, gardener and more (see her bio here on her website), who dreamed as a child of being Odysseus, and as an adult is writing his life from different angles.  Here, I asked her a few questions, about what drew her to working in this field, and where her work is taking her…  

Cath Mayo

 

What drew you to writing/working with Classical Antiquity and what challenges did you face in selecting, representing, or adapting particular myths or stories?

My mum read Barbara Leonie Picard’s retelling of Homer’s Odyssey to me when I was only seven or eight years old, and I’ve been fascinated with Ancient Greece ever since – and with the complex character of Odysseus in particular. So choosing to write about a teenage Odysseus in my first two YA novels, Murder at Mykenai and The Bow, was a no-brainer.

My current collaboration with David Hair has flowed on seamlessly from that – we’re co-writing a series of adult fantasy novels called Olympus, which are also set in Ancient Greece with Odysseus once again as the main character. The first one, Athena’s Champion (Canelo UK), comes out this November.

My YA novels were built up from scraps of myth – the murder of Atreus by his brother, for the first book, and the brief account in the Odyssey about how Odysseus came to own his great bow “when he was still a boy”, for the second.

In our current series, David and I are using some more substantial myths which closely pre-date the Trojan War, to show how Odysseus’s skills develop as he matures into the fully-formed hero of the Iliad and the Odyssey. Some are famous, like the Judgement of Paris, the sack of Thebes by the sons of the Seven, and the marriage of Helen. Others are less well-known – for example, the abduction of Helen by Theseus, the madness of Alcmaeon and the invasion of the Peloponnese by Hyllus, son of Heracles.

In the original tellings of these myths, Odysseus didn’t always play an active part, so the challenge has been to weave him in, so that he’s not just a bit player but takes a substantial role.

Why do you think classical / ancient myths, history, and literature continue to resonate with audiences?

They’re wonderful stories, first and foremost, covering the gamut of human experience and emotion, especially for the people who feel the tales are embedded in their ancestry, and in their spiritual legacy. In a recent BBC poll of “The 100 stories that Shaped the World”, Homer’s Odyssey was voted Number One.

In New Zealand, we’re blessed with two main traditions, our European background and our Maori heritage. Through these we can identify strongly with our origins, both here in the Pacific and back in Europe. And now we have a much more mixed society, we are becoming more aware of the internationality of myth.

Do you have a background in classical education (Latin or Greek at school or classes at the University?) What sources are you using? Scholarly work? Wikipedia? Are there any books that made an impact on you in this respect? 

I studied Latin for five years at school and – rather to my surprise – used it at University where I majored in History, focusing particularly on early Medieval history, from the late Roman Empire and the rise of Christianity through to the 12th century intellectual renaissance.

Later, I went back to university for three years to learn Ancient Greek, with an emphasis on Homeric Greek, so I could read the epic poems in the original and get a sense of the Greek psyche through their own use of words and ideas. This has turned out to be hugely useful – not only did I gain a very detailed knowledge of the Odyssey, I can go back to the Greek text and look at the original words. There are some great translations around, but each scholar comes to the text with their own interpretations and agenda.

I also immersed myself, for quite a number of years, in studying the archaeological evidence for the Greek and Aegean Late Bronze Age, right through from the various datings of the Trojan War to the analysis of food residues on the insides of temple pots…

This led to several fruitful correspondences with archaeologists, whose patience and generosity never fails to amaze me.

When I can, I like to go back to the original Greek and Latin texts for the mythological content, and I like to use earlier, Greek versions of myths – once you get into the Roman mythographers, from Virgil onwards, there’s usually an anti-Greek political agenda in there somewhere!

Timothy Gantz’s Early Greek Myth is an excellent portal for this – it’s a tough read, but Gantz outlines the evolution of each myth strand chronologically and gives impeccable source references. Robert Graves’s Greek Myths is a bit hit and miss in that regard.

Wikipedia is okay, especially for geographical overviews, but its entries vary hugely in reliability. The online Greek mythology site I really love is www.theoi.com and for the grittier stuff http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/ and the online Loeb library https://www.loebclassics.com/

An inspirational text for Catherine: Barbara Leonie Picard's The Odyssey of Homer
An inspirational text for Catherine: Barbara Leonie Picard’s The Odyssey of Homer

How concerned were you with ‘accuracy’ or ‘fidelity’ to the original?  (another way of saying that might be—that I think writers are often more ‘faithful’ to originals in adapting its spirit rather than being tied down at the level of detail—is this something you thought about?)

There are two aspects to this issue – the myths as stories on the one hand, and the social and physical settings of the myths on the other.

In terms of the myths, David and I both begin by working closely with the earlier versions of the stories we’ve chosen, but as we get deeper into the writing process, the finer details tend to get distorted, as we pursue our story and the characters we’re developing.

To start with, I felt bad about doing this, but Prof Anne MacKay at Auckland University reassured me. She explained that myths aren’t static entities – even in the earliest versions there’s quite a bit of variation, and none of it is “right” or “wrong”. Modern story tellers are also part of the myth-making process, so our own interpretations and variations occur within the tradition.

David and I were confronted with a particularly thorny example of myth variation in action when we were planning Oracle’s War, the second book in our Olympus series. The last part of the book deals with the sacking of Thebes by the Epigoni, the sons of the Seven, and it fell to me ( I get all the best jobs!) to work out not only who the Seven and the Epigoni were, but how they were all related. There are any number of lists, and none of them agree – one even includes Eteocles among the Seven, even though he was the enemy king of Thebes at the time!

And the Seven and the Epigoni had the nasty habit of marrying their aunts, which makes familial relations curious, to say the least. It took me a week to create lists that were coherent, and to draw up a useful family tree.

All this, of course, needs to be next-to-invisible in the final narrative, but it has to be done so that at least we, the authors, understand what’s going on…

Both David and I are also very keen on setting the physical aspects of the books in the Late Bronze Age, rather than the “Heroic Age”, an invented fantasy world that evolved, along with the myths, over the centuries.

The Iliad and the Odyssey are early examples of this “Heroic Age” setting. They have their roots in the Bronze Age but over many lifetimes of retelling, the bards of the Homeric tradition introduced elements from their own eras. So the “Heroic Age” is a huge amorphous potpourri of cultural elements spanning between five hundred and a thousand years or so, depending on the myth and who is telling it. Scholars have lots of fun deciding which elements in the Iliad or the Odysseus date from which era – Bronze Age, Dark Age or early Archaic period.

“Historical” accuracy is more difficult to achieve – Greece in the Late Bronze Age is described as “prehistoric”. For most people, this suggests something pretty crude, like “Stone Age” or “Neanderthal”. But LBA Greece was a highly sophisticated society. In fact, “prehistoric” in this context is a technical term, meaning that their society didn’t keep written commentaries on political events.

Although Greece at that time did use writing, what has survived was employed very differently. The Linear B tablets – at least those that survived the great palace conflagrations at the end of the period – record things like food rations for female slaves, or the number of chariot wheels the palace owned, or the amount of perfumed oil a deity would be given.

Fortunately other contemporaneous societies – the Egyptians and the Hittites – did record such things as treaties and diplomatic correspondence. So, through their eyes, we occasionally glimpse the Ahhiyawa or Achaeans – the term used by the Hittites for the Ancient Greeks of the time. This gives us an external historical context, which we can match up with the archaeological findings to some degree.

You have written young adult fiction before this project.  What would you say are the differences or similarities in writing for young adults vs writing for adults?

I find there’s not that much difference – both my YA books and our Olympus series are action adventure stories, so they have the same imperatives. The story needs to keep moving, cliff-hangers keep the reader hooked, the language needs to be vivid and uncluttered, and there’s plenty of contrast between the “talkie” sections and the action scenes.

Because of the older readership age, the Olympus series can deal with more complex ideas. And it can take the depiction of violence and sex up a notch – though both David and I hate being gratuitous. The word count is longer with adult fiction, which gives the story more room to expand, and the characters – especially the bad guys – swear more often and more pungently. I think it’s the swearing that provides the biggest demarcation.

Could you talk a little about your joint project–how it came about, how you work together …?

 

David and I met during a Storylines day a few years ago – we’d been selected as YA authors and took part in the same events. Between times, we chatted a lot about writing and about Ancient Greece, which we both love. That led to shared dinners and a thriving friendship.

Then David sprung the idea of co-writing the Olympus series. I’d played in bands for years, so the idea of improvising with someone else wasn’t new. But I had no idea how that might work with words, rather than music. Scary!

We plan a lot. David was about to head off to Bangkok to live, so after a first, pretty intensive weekend face-to-face, we brainstormed our way through a string of Storyboards on Skype, searching out how the story would feel, the way the gods and magic would work, and the overall shape of each plot. We also set up an Excel timeline spreadsheet, and wrote countless background documents about characters and settings and places.

This sounds a bit nerdy. But all that hard work behind the scenes should be invisible, so readers get a fast-moving adventure story and compelling characters who leap off the page.

I’d read a few collaborative novels before and they mostly have each author writing their own main character, so you get two alternating narrations. But we’ve got one main character and one point of view, so that wasn’t going to work for us.

David is a fulltime writer, while I run a busy violin repair business, so he does the first drafts – he’s brilliant at getting the guts of the story down fast. I love character-building and creating physical settings, and feeling the book growing and filling out under my fingers, so I work on the second draft.

Crucially, we’ve found the same voice. Either of us can chuck out or add in any number of words or ideas – we’re both pretty ruthless like that – but by the end of the process, I often don’t know which words or ideas are David’s and which are mine.

Thank you!

-Cath Mayo in conversation with Elizabeth Hale

 

 

 

 

 

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Adventuring with Aeneas: Julian Barr and The Way Home

In which Queensland novelist and historian Julian Barr discusses his take on the Aeneid in his young adult novel, The Way Home, which explores ideas of exile and homelessness through the eyes of a young Aeneas.  I asked Julian about process, adaptation, reception and how the Aeneid plays out in a Young Adult context.  

The Way Home was published this year by Odyssey Books.  What drew you to writing/working with Classical Antiquity and what challenges did you face in selecting, representing, or adapting particular myths or stories?

Virgil’s writing resonated with me in my late teens and I felt an urge to engage with the Aeneid creatively. I adored the sense of adventure. It was a classic quest with monsters, gods and epic battles. More than that, I loved the sensitivity of Virgil’s characterisation, particularly of Dido. After a failed attempt to translate the story from Latin into prose similar to an historical thriller, I thought this was the end of the idea. Silly me! In 2013 I attended the Classical Association conference at the University of Reading and saw many panels on classical reception in YA literature. Yet the key moment came on my way home. At Heathrow I met with a lady from Bosnia. Listening to her harrowing story of tragedy and exile, everything came together: the Aeneid is a refugee’s story from a world of gods and magic. It’s about people who yearn for a place to belong. Even now this theme is all too relevant. This idea connected with the YA panels and The Way Home was born.

There are many challenges in adapting Virgil’s writing for YA readers, not least of which is crossing genres. For example, the poem’s lengthy exposition-filled prologue lacks the immediacy and pace you need for YA. It’s better to convey such information organically. Show, don’t tell!

Making Aeneas relatable for YA readers presented a further challenge. He is a husband and a father, not a modern teenager. I dealt with it by making Aeneas as young as possible—nineteen. In his bronze-age society it was normal to be married by the mid-teens, so it made sense for Kreusa and Aeneas to have a child of three or four. I also drew on personal experiences as a young dad. Some readers raise their eyebrows at the hero as a teenage parent, but most are happy to accept it as historically authentic.

How to deal with marginalisation of women in myth? Aside from Aeneas all my viewpoint characters are female. You’ll find goddesses, queens, Amazons, healers and fisherwomen in the story. As a social historian, I’m interested in how women can exert power in a patriarchal society. It felt right to explore this in the novel. Foregrounding female viewpoints necessitates looking beyond a military context to define heroism. Rape and violence against women are also prevalent in classical myth. Glossing over confronting subjects insults young readers, who can process such things when handled sensitively. That said, you won’t find rape scenes or graphic violence in The Way Home. Instead I focus on psychological repercussions of violence, dealing with horrible things in an emotionally authentic way.

The Way Home, cover image

 

Why do you think classical / ancient myths, history, and literature continue to resonate with young audiences?​

For YA readers, the cultural value of classical antiquity matters less than the visceral thrill of journeying with heroes and villains and monsters. They want to go on an adventure in a strange world with amazing characters.

Do you have a background in classical education (Latin or Greek at school or classes at the University?) What sources are you using? Are there any books that made an impact on you in this respect?  

I have a PhD in Classics from the University of Queensland, where I taught ancient history and languages. As an education officer at the R.D. Milns Antiquities Museum, I helped design the education program.

Though Virgil is my major primary source, you’ll also find elements of Homer, Herodotus, Ovid, tragedies, and even medieval romances. I drew upon too many secondary sources to name and consulted numerous translations and commentaries. I owe a debt to Michael Paschalis for his 1997 commentary considering the etymology of proper names in Virgil. If there was a quick detail or name I needed to check, I did consult Wikipedia. Guilty!

How do you think working with the Aeneid affected/affects your storytelling?

Reading the Aeneid aloud in Latin taught me that the weight of a syllable can affect readers on a subconscious level. The steady rhythm of dactylic hexameter gives the story an almost military clip. The Aeneid belongs to a society where war equals honour and glory. The metre informs my thinking about pace, keeping the story marching forward.

Aeneas and Anchises, illustrated by Matt Wolf for The Way Home
Aeneas and Anchises, illustrated by Matt Wolf for The Way Home (copyright Matt Wolf).

Aeneas is an intriguing hero, not cunning like Odysseus or invincible like Achilles. His strength is endurance. For a displaced people, that is everything. He is also unusual among epic heroes because Virgil seldom calls him a king, reflecting Roman skittishness about monarchy. Yet Virgil’s literary patron was the first emperor of Rome. The tension between abhorrence of kingship and adherence to authoritarianism colours my portrayal of Aeneas’s leadership style. My Aeneas is not a king, but a prince—one step removed from princeps.

Did you think about how Classical Antiquity would translate for young readers?

While many YA readers love mythology, the writing must be vivid from page one. Nothing bores young readers more than a dry, dusty retelling which is more monument than story. Characters should live and breathe in a way that marble statues can’t. Being emotionally authentic means digging deep into my own experience—scary, but worth it!

Since visual literacy is vital in the age of the graphic novel, I invited illustrator Matt Wolf to enrich the story with nine comic book style illustrations. Maps are another fantasy staple. Linc Morse exquisitely charted Aeneas’s travels. Readers get a thrill connecting modern and ancient place names. The map also serves as a story-telling device to draw readers into the world of the Middle Sea, so it is rendered in an antiquarian style complete with sea monsters.

Because YA readers tend to be interested in self-discovery, I didn’t lay out Aeneas’s heritage at the outset. He is on a journey toward adulthood. This distinguishes my Aeneas from Virgil’s. The Aeneas of the epic is fully formed from line one. He knows himself and his purpose, while my Aeneas must figure it out.

Many YA readers are passionate about racial diversity and don’t want another story about a white male conquering his enemies. That story has been told a bazillion times. Diversity is a challenge when working with a text whose opening line is: ‘I sing of arms and a great man.’ Hate groups sometimes co-opt antiquity to justify prejudice and bigotry. The last thing I want is for my book to celebrate unexamined privilege, but also don’t want representation to feel tokenistic. Digging a little deeper into primary sources, there is ample room to represent racial diversity. It’s not tokenism so much as realism. The heroes come from Western Asia, finding their way to North Africa via the Greek Islands. It isn’t difficult to make the diversity of the Mediterranean feel authentic, because it is.

Queer representation is more complex. How to include queer perspectives when the concept of sexual identity didn’t exist in antiquity? Nor did the concept of romantic love, even between men and women. If it did, it ideally developed during marriage. Infatuation was often viewed as a contagion. This is particularly difficult, as young readers are so invested in forming relationships. Though same-sex attraction was never an issue for ancient Greeks, I don’t envisage Greco-Roman antiquity as a utopia which celebrated all forms of love. It had its own restrictions and social norms. Speaking broadly, sexuality was conceptualised in terms of power dynamics—the idea being that partners had complementary but unequal roles. It’s complicated. I’m uncomfortable depicting relationships in terms of unequal distribution of power in a YA novel. Nobody wants to portray abusive relationships as normal. So I compromised. My characters form romantic relationships with people their own age much like today. Some are attracted to their own sex. It’s just part of who they are and nobody bats an eyelid.

How concerned were you with ‘accuracy’ or ‘fidelity’ to the original?  (another way of saying that might be—that I think writers are often more ‘faithful’ to originals in adapting its spirit rather than being tied down at the level of detail—is this something you thought about?)

As the project evolved from translation to adaptation, I had to tell the story in my own voice. It’s an original work which captures what makes the story significant to me. My goal is to entertain rather than educate. Every generation has reinterpreted the Aeneid. Therefore I had no qualms about changing certain details, so long as the world-building was consistent. However, I do ensure the story remains recognisable, so I avoid inventing things for its own sake. The changes I make are hopefully sympathetic to the poem, if not a carbon copy. Sometimes I’m not bucking against the poem but traditional adaptations of myth. For example, Zeus is more antagonistic than you might expect. In many adaptations Zeus becomes a whimsical benefactor, but my version of Zeus is as deceitful, violent, and manipulative as he is in many myths.

The secondary characters of The Way Home are also more fleshed out. Trojans fill the Aeneid, but they are little more than names pushed into the background to make the great man appear greater. I wanted to show Aeneas isn’t the only one contributing to the Trojans’ survival. For this I drew upon Book 5 of the Aeneid. In the funeral games and descent within the Trojan ranks, Virgil allows his secondary characters a rare moment to shine. I extrapolated their personalities and relationships from their behaviour. Sometimes I had little choice but to change the characters’ names or combine them. Fans of the Aeneid may find Akhates noticeable by his absence—readers kept getting him confused with Ankhises! So he became Mnestheos.

Readers may also notice structural differences between the Aeneid and The Way Home. The story progresses in linear order as it is easier to follow. I also write in third person throughout, avoiding Virgil’s technique of having Aeneas narrate portions of the story. This allows me to alternate between Aeneas’s viewpoint and those of the gods. Shifting viewpoints increases tension and widens the scope of the narrative.

I expanded the role of Pyrrhos, making him a main antagonist. In the Aeneid Pyrrhos shows up, murders the royal family, then departs. Ancient readers would know that Pyrrhos gets his comeuppance off stage. Yet this doesn’t feel right for the novel because I can’t count on the reader’s prior knowledge of Greek myth. Introducing a villain and leaving him unvanquished would break a promise to the reader. Given that most of the antagonists are immortal, it feels dramatically satisfying for Aeneas to have an adversary he can overcome. Also, it would have been a little dull to follow the Trojans wandering aimlessly from island to island, so having a Greek warlord pursuing them escalates the tension nicely.

There are other, pretty big changes… But I won’t spoil those!

Julian Barr
Julian Barr

Are you planning any further forays into classical material?​

The sequel, The Ivory Gate, will be released in 2019. I’m also querying agents with another classically inspired fantasy set in a world like Roman Britain, only with talking animals and giant automatons. Plus I’m translating Byzantine sources on St Nicholas with Dr Amelia Brown. The project is due for completion next year. Most of my stories deal with classical material, but not all. The world is full of amazing stories that want to be told. I’ll never find time for them all, but I’ll take my best crack at it!

–Julian Barr, in conversation with Elizabeth Hale.  Julian has a lively blog, which you can read here.

Learning Latin through Lego: Legonium

How better to learn Latin than through a series of Lego-based adventures?  Anthony Gibbins, Latin Master at Sydney Grammar, is taking the internet by storm with his terrific Legonium site, which provides simple story-based approaches to Latin, and featuring the adventures of different lego characters.  It’s a superb example of the kinds of creative work that classics teachers are doing to communicate the delights of Latin to new generations.  

I was curious about how he came to have such a great idea, and admiring of the dedication and creativity that goes into maintaining it.  Anthony also has a very lively Twitter feed at @tutubuslatinus and so I’m thrilled that he was able to take the time to answer a few questions. It looks like there’s many more fascinating episodes ahead, so Latin-learners have some great things ahead of them.

Where did your ideas come from?  Why Lego?

The scope of Legonium has grown over time, and will hopefully continue to grow. The first aspect of Legonium was the fabulae.

I enjoy writing stories in Latin, but have always wanted these stories to be illustrated. An early example is the Gilbo series that can be found at the Tar Heel Reader website. A few years ago I was reflecting on the many wonderful novellas that were then being published in Latin and feeling that I was missing out. I began to think once more about how I could illustrate a story book.

I had recently began collecting Lego kits. I started with Star Wars, then crossed to the Modular Series, the large detailed buildings that make up Legonium. It suddenly occurred to me that I could very easily create detailed illustrations by setting up and photographing scenes with these Lego sets. The idea was born from there. I set up a website and began posting daily blogs, which I promoted with Twitter. I had only a rough idea where the story was going, and as I bought new buildings the story continued to develop.

 

Screenshot 2018-09-12 21.17.02

Totally by chance, one of the characters, Claudia, had been identified as having an interest in ancient history early in the story.

Screenshot 2018-09-12 21.16.48

 It occurred to me that perhaps she could visit Pompeii. I contacted the Nicholson Museum, (which houses an elaborate Lego reproduction of Pompeii) and they were very enthusiastic about the model being used for such a project. So that is how Claudia managed to get to Pompeii in episode 7 of series 1.  It later occurred to me that it would be a good place to finish the first story too. Fortunately, the museum allowed me to return, and the climactic final showdown was set in the ancient city as well.

I am now working on the second series of the fabulae, which is more of a love story. It is proving to be a much slower process, but I have 3 episodes completed (http://www.legonium.com/tertia-decima/) and an entire 12 ‘episode’ series planned out. It is really just a matter of me writing and photographing the stories. Perhaps in the next holidays…

Roll on the holidays!  Why did you use modern Lego, rather than ancient?  Did this shape your storytelling?  

Legonium itself – the buildings available in the Modular series – dictated that the stories be set is something like the modern world – you may notice that no one has a mobile phone. I was happy with this restriction, as I have spent quite a lot of time in Latin immersion environments, and this gave me an opportunity to write stories about the types of things I was discussing in my conversations; tall buildings, busses, aeroplanes, suitcases et cetera. However, on Twitter I do take the opportunity to engage with the ancient world. I regularly post announcements of Roman festivals and religious holidays (http://www.legonium.com/ianuarius/) . There are also posts of quotes from ancient authors, illustrated of course with Lego. Much of this can now be found on the website.

Screenshot 2018-09-12 21.17.19
http://www.legonium.com/

 Do you use Legonium in your own classroom?

I do use it in my own classroom, but not as much as some other teachers I have heard of. But when there is time, I might read through parts of stories with Year 9, 10 and 11 classes. I am currently working on a grammar reference series, beginning with the uses of the cases. I can certainly see myself using this with classes once it is complete.

 What made you use the Harry Potter figures and stories? 

I worked very very hard to be able to read Harrius Potter. It is not simple Latin, and there was a lot on unfamiliar vocabulary within. But now that I can pick it up (the first book at least) and read any given page, I am glad that I put in the work. I decided that a series of Tweets on Harrius Potter would allow other people to read it a little bit faster than I could (http://www.legonium.com/harrius-150/). I also secretly hoped that it might catch the attention of J.K. Rowling, although that did not happen. Harry Potter gave a lot of my earliest students a genuine curiosity for Latin, and I think the subject owes a great deal to their author. When I got to the end of the first chapter, there was little enthusiasm from the Twitter audience to continue, so I decided to hang it up there. I could always go back to it at some time – I would probably skip a few chapters and sink my teeth into something towards the end.

Maybe J. K. Rowling is a secret fan!  How concerned are you with ‘accuracy’ (i.e. fidelity to ancient Roman culture, fidelity to smaller nuances of language)?

I am very concerned with accuracy. I do make occasional mistakes but I make every effort not to. If I don’t know how to say something, I will try to find out – I figure that’s a hole in my knowledge that I can fill. I have a good selection of books to help me, as well as a an extremely knowledgeable and generous department at the school where I teach. If I can’t figure it out, I won’t guess at it. I just think of something else to say. I don’t want to be responsible for spreading bad Latin. I do, however, still make mistakes. The Latin community is very gentle in their corrections, and I appreciate it that people are looking out for errors.

The one exception I make is for issues of gender. The word poeta – for example – is a masculine noun. But I have no qualms using it to describe a woman, and pairing it with a feminine adjective. I do get a little pushback on that, but not a lot.

What other projects are you working on that you’re willing to share with us?

I’m currently working on two other projects. I am building a Roman villa out of Lego, which I will upload to Lego Ideas. Lego Ideas is a great platform, which allows Lego fans to propose Lego kits. If the Roman villa can gain ‘support’ from 10,000 people, Lego will consider producing it as a kit. Supporters only have to click on a button on the ideas website and answer three questions, but they do have to have a Lego web-account.

 The second project is a card game called Bellum Sacrum. This is a battle-royal between two teams of Roman gods and goddesses. The game is working very well and we are currently working on card layout. I hope to have it ready to playtest more broadly soon.

–Anthony Gibbins in conversation with Liz Hale