Happy December 1st!

Hello everyone –

Happy December 1^st! :) Lots of things are happening the sky right now. Yesterday, November 30^th, the Sun entered the constellation Ophiuchus (sometimes referred to as the “13^th sign of the Zodiac”) and will traverse the southern extremity of this constellation until December 17^th, when it enters Sagittarius. Also, on Sunday the 3^rd, 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

·        http://www.sacred-texts.com/egy/woe/index.htm à The Wisdom of the Egyptians by Brian Brown (1923) provides an introductory overview of Egyptian history, mythology, philosophy, and science.

“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