Second only to Aristotle, Gaius Plinius Secundus, known as Pliny the Elder, was probably the most influential scholar of Antiquity, and the only one for whom the eponymous cult favorite Double IPA of the Russian River Brewing Company was named (more about that later). Former cavalry officer, advisor to emperors, holder of numerous official positions, and author of at least seventy-five books plus 160 volumes of unpublished notebooks, Pliny, clearly an over-the-top workaholic, is remembered for just one of those books (and the only one to survive): the thirty-seven volume Historia Naturalis—Natural History.
A man with a voracious hunger for knowledge of all kinds, Pliny had as his stated ambition for Historia Naturalis “to set forth in detail all the contents of the entire world.” As a Roman citizen, he had reason to believe that the world was encompassed by the empire to which he belonged. Thus Rome, through Pliny, gave us the world’s collection of “encyclic culture” or enkyklios paedia: the first encyclopedia, a fascinating window into life in ancient Rome and the worldview of his fellow Romans.
In Volume 1, just the Table of Contents and a preface dedicated to Emperor Titus totaled seventy pages when translated to English. Volumes 2–6 covered cosmology, astronomy, and geography; Volume 7, man (as a general topic); Volumes 8–11, zoology; Volumes 12–19, botany; Volumes 20–27, the medicinal use of plants; Volume 28–32, medicines derived from animals; and Volumes 33–37, rocks, metals, precious stones and their use in art. The importance of his work lay in how he carefully observed, identified, and organized previously random facts, patterns, and important details missed by others—especially in fields like botany and agriculture. For example, he described an ox-driven grain harvester in Gaul that was considered fantasy until a 1958 discovery of a 2nd-century relief depicting its use. His volumes on plants and their medicinal use shaped scientific and medical theory up through the Middle Ages and contain much of the beginnings of today’s herbal medicine.
Given the limited historiographic and fact-checking resources of the time (such as the difficulty of going to Africa; and as for libraries on the natural history of the continent his book was the first and only one anyway), accuracy wasn’t always his work’s strongest suit. Some of the Historia Naturalis stretched nature quite a bit, based on secondhand accounts of faraway lands that were, to say the least, fanciful. Plus, to put it mildly, he was ecumenical and eclectic in his philosophy of what facts he wanted to report: he stated Aliena memoria salutamus, aliena vivimus opera, alienis oculis agnostimus (“We welcome unfamiliar memories, we preserve unfamiliar work, we observe with unfamiliar eyes”).
And so he wrote of the real and fantastic: dog-headed people who bark, snakes that propel themselves skyward to catch birds, evil-eyed Illyrians, bear cubs born as shapeless lumps that had to be licked into shape by their mother, monsters from places like India and Ethiopia. He described the origin of cinnabar as the blending of elephant and dragon blood resulting from a vicious battle between the two. Magic and superstition were all over the Natural History and would influence much subsequent pseudoscientific thinking. Modern science historian Brian Cummings has described Pliny as “endearingly batty.” However, he must have possessed a modicum of skepticism—he qualified much information with “some say” or “so the story goes,” which certainly made him a lot less “batty” than many writers on the Internet today.
His history of his own culture is far more accurate and useful. Much of what we know of day-to-day Roman life and specific events comes from Pliny, including cities that have long since ceased to exist. We owe to him the first recording of the location of notable sites and detailed descriptions of ancient Roman works of art, and his writings became incredibly helpful during the Renaissance as a combination map and interpretive guide for scholars and artists who revered ancient Rome and wanted to cull as much information about the city as possible.
Pliny is, of course, no longer the authority he was up to the sixteenth century when his errors became increasingly, even comically, obvious. But he’s remembered as first of all a relentless reporter of a world both real and imaginary, always accompanied on his walks by someone taking his dictation. He was also the Ben Franklin of his day, as many quotes from his work attest:
In wine there is truth (In vino veritas).
In all matters, the only certainty is that nothing is certain.
Home is where the heart is.
The happier the moment, the shorter.
From the end springs new beginnings.
Lead by example; example is the softest and least invidious way of commanding.
An object in possession seldom retains the same charm that it had in pursuit.
It is generally more shameful to lose a good reputation than to never have acquired it.
There is always something new out of Africa.
The most valuable discoveries have found their origin in the most trivial accidents.
Nature is to be found in her entirety nowhere more than in her smallest creatures.
But he also, as a Roman and Italian, exemplified the combination of ornery courage and curiosity that would fuel so much intellectual discovery on the peninsula and in the Western world in later centuries. That natural curiosity compelled him, while commanding a fleet in the Bay of Naples, to seek to get close to Vesuvius while it was exploding in August of 79 CE. He went out into the Bay of Naples in a boat to examine and document the volcano’s smoke cloud and died of asphyxiation; his body was later found on the beach, a martyr to the natural science he helped to create.
So, you are still wondering … what’s the beer connection? As noted, Pliny was deeply into plants, with Volumes 12– 19 of his Historia Naturalis covering botany. It was none other than Pliny the Elder who created the botanical name, or at least wrote about, Lupus Salictarius, or hops, currently known as Humulus Lupulus, the marquee ingredient behind most craft beers and any Double IPA. About 20 years ago, brewmaster Vinnie Cilurzo learned of Pliny when he was in the process of developing the recipe for the now cult classic beer and named it in his honor. And there’s more: Pliny the Elder was survived by Pliny the Younger, his nephew who carried on his uncle’s work. And so too does the Triple IPA seasonal release Pliny the Younger, a higher alcohol and hoppier version of its “Uncle.”
So, raise your glass to the scholar, historian, officer, writer, Roman naturalist and inspiration to the world of craft beers: Pliny the Elder. Salute!
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