Richard Marranca: Cultivating The Wisdom Of Ancient Greece

We sat down with Richard Marranca, writer, educator, and lifelong explorer of the arts and humanities. With a background that spans literature, history, philosophy, and even sociology, Richard brings a uniquely interdisciplinary perspective to everything he does. His work blends academic insight with a deeply personal, reflective approach inspired by thinkers like Carl Jung and Ralph Waldo Emerson, encouraging students and readers alike to ask not just what stories mean, but what they reveal about ourselves.

From his early travels to years of teaching and writing across diverse subjects, Richard Marranca has always been driven by creativity, connection, and a fascination with the ancient world. Whether he’s leading a classroom discussion, practicing meditation, or studying with organizations like the Egypt Exploration Society, he continues to explore how past civilizations can illuminate modern life.

Around here, in New Jersey where I live, "old" is relative. There are many Victorian homes in my neighbourhood, dating back to the late 19th century—which I love walking around—but that, or a 100-year-old pizzeria, is about as far back as the local history goes.

For me, the spark was partly pop culture. As a kid, we watched all the Greek and Roman films and the biblical epics at Easter. It’s interesting how these origins start so early in our lives. I received a book collection about the ancient world for Christmas one year—I still have it on my shelf—which covered everything from prehistoric times and Sumeria to Egypt, Greece, and Rome. It’s actually quite similar to what I teach now in my humanities surveys: a chronological journey from the earliest civilizations through to the Renaissance. In a way, I’ve been doing the same thing since I was ten years old.

Another major factor was the Metropolitan Museum of Art in Manhattan. I went there constantly as a child with neighbors and relatives. It’s one of the great museums for Greek, Roman, and Egyptian collections. Then, when I was seven, I took a formative trip to Italy with my mother, aunt, and grandmother. We visited relatives in Calabria and saw Greek ruins in Southern Italy. My relatives in Sicily live near Agrigento, the Valley of the Temples, and seeing those Greek temples made me feel different from my peers who just went to the Jersey Shore every summer. It made me realize this stuff was truly amazing.

I might have become an archaeologist or a historian if I had been more singularly focused, but in college, I was drawn to a variety of things, including creativity. I eventually studied at New York University and did a semester in Athens through their program.

So, it all started very young, around ages eight to ten. While the arts and humanities don't always offer the immediate economic payoff that STEM does, they provide a spiritual, humanistic, and artistic quality that is invaluable. In the end, it’s worth it because you find the energy in these places and you start connecting the dots.

There are so many great messages to be found. Studying the arts and humanities in Greece or Italy provides innumerable life lessons. Of course, the people you meet today are perhaps the most important part of any journey. You might go there to study Homer or Socrates, or to walk the Agora as Socrates did, and that is wonderful; but it’s often the spontaneous moments that stay with you, like having ice cream with an elderly couple you just met, or simply petting the local cats and dogs. There is a spiritual energy and a sense of inspiration there.

From the ancient world, I think we primarily gain the value of community and friendship. That is a very strong Greek value today, as it was in antiquity. Someone like Epicurus had such a profound message about friendship, while Aristotle gives us an amazing sense of curiosity; he was truly interested in everything.

Lately, I’ve been doing a lot with Socrates in my classes. I have my students watch videos and read short selections, even in my English courses. I ask them to form Socratic groups where they simply ask each other questions. I think this is vital today, with the far left and the far right constantly at each other's throats. It is important to see if people can sit in the same room and discuss politics or religion without anger. I love the way Socrates looked for contradictions in what people say, because people tend to generalize and manipulate. Clarifying statements and concepts in that way is fascinating.

I might be answering this in a somewhat academic way, but on a personal level, I just love the mix of old and new in Athens. That is something we simply don't have here. Last summer, I stayed at the Lord Byron Hotel; right across the street was where Byron stayed in a monastery, and just a few miles away was the Parthenon. To go up there in the morning, or to just sit on a roof watching the birds sail by with the Parthenon right above you; those moments are magical.

I can’t quite explain it eloquently, but I tell my students: "Imagine what the world would be like if we didn't have these places." It would be a different, lesser world. It’s almost like something out of science fiction because the existence of these places is so important. It’s an adventure, and honestly, getting lost in Athens is often even better than seeing the sites you're "supposed" to see.

Well, I see the humanities as "fertile soil." Whether you are studying philosophy, literature, or even watching modern adaptations, like the recent and upcoming films based on The Odyssey, the humanities provide a foundation for almost any endeavor. They inform psychology, religion, and especially creativity. Most artists I know strive to learn as much as possible about ancient cultures because those stories are built on universal symbols and archetypes.

I am particularly drawn to the Greek sense of balance and beauty. I love that their architecture and society were built on a human scale. By contrast, the Romans built on a massive scale, and America today feels like the Roman scale on steroids. I prefer the quality of small theaters and the lack of "giganticism." Aristotle even spoke about the ideal size for a city to remain functional and human-centric.

The humanities are like a Swiss Army knife; the tools they provide are useful for almost any situation. You never know where life will take you or which tools you'll need, especially now when the challenges we face are so vast. The East needs the West, and the West needs the East. Similarly, the modern world needs the ancient world to maintain a balancing act.

While you can study the ancient world for its battles and dates, you can also study it for its wisdom. The ancient essays on friendship and community are simply amazing. That has been my primary focus lately, learning about the depth of community and friendship through ancient works.

Over the last several years, I’ve spent a lot of time in Asia, but lately, I’ve been drawn back to Europe. I’ve realized that I want to experience living in all of these different places, and I’m trying to find a way to manage that. For instance, last summer I spoke at Sorsogon State University in the Philippines, then traveled through Asia and back to Europe. It was a lot of movement.

When it comes to my recommendations for travel, I think the most important thing is to get close to the people. I love just milling around different areas and sitting. I remember particularly enjoying the area near Hadrian’s Library in Athens: the sky, the broad expanse, and the people walking by. I love just watching and talking to people; it’s fun, surprising, and sometimes you end up with friends for life.

If someone is new to travel, I often suggest staying in hostels. They are much more popular in Europe than in America and are great for meeting others. It’s a cliché, but you really should view travel as a journey rather than a destination. Not every aspect of it is fun; sometimes the "rough points" are the ones that teach you the most.

Be spontaneous. Follow the locals. It is always more special when you actually get to know the people who live there instead of just being part of the "travel crowd" in a hotel that could be anywhere in the world, the same bed, the same breakfast. When I studied in Athens, I didn't want to stay in the student housing with my peers. I went off on my own and stayed in a youth hostel. It must have been 95 degrees the whole summer, but I was so excited just to be in that environment.

I also think traveling by yourself is great if you have the nerve for it, though you do have to be careful depending on the country. It makes me a bit sad to see how the world has changed; there are places I visited in the past that I wouldn't go to now because they’ve become more dangerous. Similarly, some places have become so crowded at certain times of the year that they lose their appeal. I love watching old movies like Roman Holiday and seeing how relatively empty Rome was back then, it feels like the lost world of my grandparents’ generation.

Initially, I was going to say Pythagoras, because I love his unique early advocacy for vegetarianism. That is quite special. However, I think I’ll stick with Socrates and his emphasis on conversation.

Specifically, I mean the art of true conversation: being genuinely interested in what people say and staying present. We shouldn't be fragmented, mentally moving ahead to the next task while a conversation is still happening. So much of that distraction happens now because of technology. We need to be mindful and situated, finding people important enough to give them not just our time, but "pure time" and pure interest. We need to truly hear them.

I sometimes realize that even after all these years, some of my relatives or friends hardly know anything about me, and it makes me wonder if the same is true in reverse. Do I really know them? Do I listen? My students, for instance, have so much to say. Just because I’m the teacher doesn't mean I have special insights into everything; in many ways, they know more than I do.

Everyone has a story. So, yes, I believe the message for now is communication: going around, asking people questions, genuinely listening, and building community.

Walking through the Agora and the museums, it undeniably changes your perspective. Seeing the actual devices they used for democracy, the mechanisms for counting votes, is profound. When you go back to the trial of Socrates or the very notion of people freely making a choice, it becomes incredibly vivid once you've stood where those events unfolded.

On my last trip, I finally made it to the site of Plato’s Academy. It is essentially a park now, and I believe there are plans for further work on it, but it was amazing to stand there and realize that, in many ways, this is where the Western university began. It is deeply inspiring to know you are carrying on a tradition that is still moving forward.

There is also a certain romantic allure to island hopping while reading Homer; it brings the text to life in a way a classroom never could. I’ve only mentioned the "big figures" so far, but I haven't even touched on my interest in Alexander the Great, or the incredible women of antiquity like Aspasia or the scholars of Alexandria. There is simply so much depth and so many dimensions to explore once you are there.

It’s actually a bit of a funny story. I was recently at a funeral home for a relative’s passing, and I found myself thinking I should interview the director for my book. He’s essentially doing the same thing the ancient Egyptian priests did: mummifying people. Nothing ever truly changes, does it?

I’m actually working on two books. The first is a collection of interviews, essays, and images centered on mummies. It started with Egyptian mummies, but as the project evolved, it became a comparative study. I’ve added sections on European bog bodies, the Capuchin crypts in Rome and Palermo, and the "Spirit Cave Man" from Nevada, one of the earliest natural mummies. I’ve even interviewed experts on Ötzi the Iceman.

This project was sparked by a lecture I attended by the wonderful Egyptologist Salima Ikram. I got to know her and interviewed her several times; she’s the first entry in the book. I’ve also included the great classicist Paul Cartledge, who discusses the funerary practices of Philip II and Alexander the Great. It’s nearly finished, and I’m just waiting on a few final pieces.

The second book is a bit of "goofy" fiction, likely for a teen audience but hopefully for adults too. It’s about a "mummy time traveler"—a kid finds a mummy case in an attic, thinks it’s a Halloween prop, but accidentally awakens a mummy and they go on adventures through time. It’s my usual mix of serious academic study and lighter, imaginative fun.

I have a few things in motion. I’m starting an essay on Saint Francis that I hope to publish by Easter, focusing on his messages of compassion, nature, and simple living. I’m trying to give it a modern tone. I also have an upcoming interview at the Museum of Natural History in New York regarding the 12,000-year-old Spirit Cave Man.

On a different note, I want to write an essay on friendship, and I recently published a vampire story where the vampires are actually humanists who met Mozart and Leonardo da Vinci. Whether I’m writing fiction or nonfiction, I find I’m often exploring the same subjects, it uses a different part of the brain.

I’d love to get back into writing about Asian philosophy and literature. I’ve practiced meditation with a group for years; I’m mediocre at it, but it has kept my life balanced. When I started doing this in high school, people found it "weird", the way people used to view yoga or jogging decades ago. Now, it’s everywhere.

I’m also deeply concerned about the environment and want to write more about that, especially with the news about melting ice sheets. In terms of psychology, I’m delving into consciousness through the lens of Carl Jung and evolutionary biology. I enjoy combining the humanities with science because academics often stay in their own "lanes," which can get boring. I’d rather be wide-ranging. And, of course, I’m still waiting for someone to invite me to help out at an archaeological dig in Egypt or Greece—I’d happily just pick up dirt!

Alexander the Great: His undaunted courage and vision. He was fearless and achieved things even the Romans couldn't replicate. He was a true genius of his time.

Plato: I have to go with his vision of clarity. His Allegory of the Cave is still the blueprint for modern stories like The Matrix. It’s that profound notion of moving from darkness to light and finding clarity even when you feel alone.

Pythagoras: He is such a mysterious, "East-meets-West" figure. At a time of war and repression, he came up with the idea of universal compassion through vegetarianism. He saw animals as "cousins." That perspective was singularly unique for his era.

Homer: Whether Homer was one person or a committee, the genius lies in the seamlessness of the storytelling. I value the theme of the Nostos, or the homecoming in the Odyssey. It’s the ultimate adventure, going out into the unknown, facing monsters, yet never forgetting the way back home.

Thank you so much, Richard, for sharing your insights, stories, and passion for the ancient world with us. Your perspective on blending history, creativity, and personal growth offers a refreshing and meaningful way to engage with the humanities!