Hello
everyone –
Happy
December 1st! :) Lots of things are
happening the sky right now. Yesterday, November 30th, the Sun
entered the constellation Ophiuchus (sometimes referred to as the “13th
sign of the Zodiac”) and will traverse the southern extremity of this
constellation until December 17th, when it enters Sagittarius. Also,
on Sunday the 3rd, we will have the first and only Full Supermoon of
2017! And of course, the holiday season has begun – so here are some
reflections and poems about Ophiuchus, the Moon, and the month of December, all
rolled into one Quotemail!
“Meet
Dr. Imhotep: History’s First Polymath”
By
Rob Chappell, M.A., Assistant to the Honors Dean
Adapted
& Condensed from Cursus Honorum VIII: 9 (May/June 2008)
[Editor’s
Note: The ancient Egyptian physician Imhotep was the precursor to the legendary
Greek physician Asclepius, and the constellation Ophiuchus is a celestial
portrait of Asclepius.]
According to Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary, a polymath is a person of
encyclopedic learning, and the first polymath in recorded history is Imhotep
(fl. 27th century BCE), an Egyptian scientist who was greatly revered both
during and after his lifetime. Born a commoner, he rose through the ranks of
Egyptian society through his profound learning in many fields of study until he
was appointed Grand Vizier (prime minister) to Pharaoh Djoser, the best-known
king of Egypt’s Third Dynasty. Djoser commissioned Imhotep to build a splendid
royal tomb, and what resulted was the first Egyptian pyramid – the Step Pyramid
at Saqqara. It was the largest building on Earth at that time and served as a
prototype for all subsequent pyramid construction throughout Egypt’s long
history.
Imhotep was not only an innovative architect; he also served as High Priest of
Heliopolis, a chief city of the realm. A major aspect of his priestly
occupation was the practice of medicine, which included herbal remedies as well
as highly advanced surgical techniques. Imhotep recorded his vast knowledge of
the surgical arts in a treatise contained on the Edwin Smith Papyrus, thus
preserving his knowledge for future generations.
Imhotep’s dedication to the healing arts led to a profound reverence for his
memory among the Egyptian populace. He became the first mortal added to the
Egyptian pantheon within a few centuries of his death, and he served as the
prototype for the Greek demigod Asclepius – who, like Imhotep, was regarded as
a divine patron of medical science. As Asclepius, Imhotep also appeared in the
Hermetic literature of late antiquity, which preserved Egyptian esoteric
traditions about the origin of the cosmos and humankind’s place within it. In
these treatises, Imhotep is a dialogue partner of Hermes Trismegistus (the
Greek version of the Egyptian deity Thoth), a legendary alchemist, physician,
and astronomer who transmitted his knowledge to Asclepius/Imhotep for the
benefit of human beings.
Imhotep, history’s first known polymath, is a superb role model for today’s
budding young scientists. Unwilling to lock himself up in an ivory tower or to
hoard knowledge solely for its own sake, he freely shared his wisdom with
others so that their lives could be enriched through architecture, education,
government, medicine, and science. Imhotep’s example also serves to remind us
that no matter what field of study we may choose to specialize in, it is
important to acquire a good working knowledge of several subjects so that we
can wear many hats throughout our lifetime and be as useful as possible to our
society. As long as we read his books and follow his example, Imhotep will live
on in human memory as our history continues to unfold – even though his tomb
remains undiscovered to this very day.
Recommended
Reading
“The
Man In The Moon Came Down Too Soon” (1954)
By
J. R. R. Tolkien (1892-1973)
There
is an inn, a merry old inn
beneath an old grey hill,
And
there they brew a beer so brown
That
the Man in the Moon himself came down
one night to drink his fill.
The
ostler has a tipsy cat
that plays a five-stringed fiddle;
And
up and down he saws his bow
Now
squeaking high, now purring low,
now sawing in the middle.
The
landlord keeps a little dog
that is mighty fond of jokes;
When
there's good cheer among the guests,
He
cocks an ear at all the jests
and laughs until he chokes.
They
also keep a hornéd cow
as proud as any queen;
But
music turns her head like ale,
And
makes her wave her tufted tail
and dance upon the green.
And
O! the rows of silver dishes
and the store of silver spoons!
For
Sunday there's a special pair,
And
these they polish up with care
on Saturday afternoons.
The
Man in the Moon was drinking deep,
and the cat began to wail;
A
dish and a spoon on the table danced,
The
cow in the garden madly pranced
and the little dog chased his tail.
The
Man in the Moon took another mug,
and then rolled beneath his chair;
And
there he dozed and dreamed of ale,
Till
in the sky the stars were pale,
and dawn was in the air.
Then
the ostler said to his tipsy cat:
'The white horses of the Moon,
They
neigh and champ their silver bits;
But
their master's been and drowned his wits,
and the Sun'll be rising soon!'
So
the cat on the fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle,
a jig that would wake the dead:
He
squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune,
While
the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:
'It's after three!' he said.
They
rolled the Man slowly up the hill
and bundled him into the Moon,
While
his horses galloped up in rear,
And
the cow came capering like a deer,
and a dish ran up with the spoon.
Now
quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle;
the dog began to roar,
The
cow and the horses stood on their heads;
The
guests all bounded from their beds
and danced upon the floor.
With
a ping and a pang the fiddle-strings broke!
the cow jumped over the Moon,
And
the little dog laughed to see such fun,
And
the Saturday dish went off at a run
with the silver Sunday spoon.
The
round Moon rolled behind the hill,
as
the Sun raised up her head.
She*
hardly believed her fiery eyes;
For
though it was day, to her surprise
they all went back to bed!
“Winter”
by Walter de la Mare (1873-1958)
Clouded
with snow
The
cold winds blow,
And
shrill on leafless bough
The
robin with its burning breast
Alone
sings now.
The
rayless sun,
Day's
journey done,
Sheds
its last ebbing light
On
fields in leagues of beauty spread
Unearthly
white.
Thick
draws the dark,
And
spark by spark,
The
frost-fires kindle, and soon
Over
that sea of frozen foam
Floats
the white moon.
Quotemail
will be broadcast weekly, on the first four Fridays of December, before taking
a short hiatus during the Yuletide hollydaze.
Rob
