After having read and savored Fagles' translation not too long ago, I made the decision to join a group that was reading a new translation by Emily Wilson. She is the first woman to undertake this task in English, and it has truly proven to be an outstanding decision. I have always held a deep respect for those who translate literature, but now I understand even more profoundly how seemingly minute and insignificant details can completely transform one's perception of a classic. Or at least, it can cause you to reevaluate long-held beliefs about characters or events, whether they are historical or mythical. Wilson's translation has achieved precisely that for me. Her lean style, in my opinion, serves to accentuate even more the humanity of the humans and the human-like behavior of the gods who shape the action.

There is so much to explore and appreciate here. However, I firmly believe that my response largely stems from Wilson's chosen style and word selection. While I am enamored with Fagles' translation for its poetic beauty and vivid imagery, I am equally drawn to Wilson's for the new perspectives and thoughts it has inspired in me. For this, credit must also be given to our remarkable group.

...to be continued

The Odyssey is a famous epic that is not only a mandatory reading for any lover of literature but also an essential element of classical culture.

Homer, the glorified Greek poet to this day, bequeathed to us in this case the unprecedented adventure of the valiant Ulysses - also known as Odysseus - after the Trojan War in an attempt to return to Ithaca, his homeland. The anger awakened in Poseidon and directed towards our protagonist leads to the extension and complication of the hero's journey, plaguing it with vicissitudes and encounters with multiple deities or mythological beings. These will rise as allies or terrible elements as the work progresses.

The Odyssey is, without a doubt, an interesting, brutal, and eventful story, full of action and mythology. It functions as a great exponent of the Greek vision of the world, value, integrity, and the deities. It also offers astute, intriguing, and brave characters as well as others possessed of an abominable meanness. Its lyrical language envelops all these elements with an exquisite rigor that makes it the crucial literary piece that it is but also makes it a text not necessarily accessible due to its abundance of descriptions, repetitions, and its extravagant language. If one can overcome this barrier or adapt to it, the Odyssey is enormously enjoyable, if not, it can be tedious.

Odysseus having a mental breakdown in every single chapter is truly the most relatable part of this epic poem.

We can imagine the countless challenges and hardships he faced during his long journey home. The constant battles, the loss of his comrades, and the uncertainty of his future must have taken a toll on his mental state.

Each breakdown serves as a reminder of the vulnerability and humanity within Odysseus. It shows that even the greatest heroes have their moments of weakness and doubt.

As readers, we can empathize with his struggles and understand the emotional turmoil he experiences.

Perhaps we have also faced difficult situations in our own lives that have pushed us to the brink of a breakdown.

Odysseus' story becomes a mirror through which we can reflect on our own experiences and find strength in the face of adversity.

His ability to persevere and ultimately overcome his mental breakdowns is an inspiration to us all.

It teaches us that no matter how tough the going gets, we can always find the inner strength to keep going.

In conclusion, Odysseus' mental breakdowns add depth and authenticity to his character, making him a truly relatable and unforgettable hero.

Okay, here's a more detailed account of what went down. I left work and headed out with the guys. We found a really nice bar to hang out in. There was this chick who was really hitting on me, but I just blew her off. Well, as the night went on, we got really drunk. I'm not entirely sure, but we might have smoked something in the bathroom. After that, this huge one-eyed bouncer kicked us out. Somehow, we ended up at a strip club. The other guys were being total pigs, but not me, seriously. That's not glitter on my neck. Then we drove right past these hookers without even stopping. And here I am now, only a little bit late. Oh, by the way, I crashed the car and six of the guys are in jail. You can ask for Officer Scylla.

Eh... Homer was right. Odysseus' version is definitely better.

P.S. Please don't attempt this story at home unless, when you get there, you're still able to shoot your arrow into a narrow aperture.

Fagles' translation is truly excellent - it's the new standard. And Bernard Knox's enormous introduction is the best Homeric essay I've ever come across.

A great companion read is Hal Roth's We Followed Odysseus. Maybe it's not the most beautifully written book, but the idea of him retracing Odysseus's voyage (as best he can) in his sailboat is really cool. I even recreated his route as a Google map, with notes on each of the stops. I also wrote summaries of each book of the Odyssey for a book club discussion, which I've pasted in the comments thread below if you're interested.

I don't think the world or the Goodreads user base will gain much from my "review" of The Odyssey.

Everything that needs to be said about this wonderful epic has been said throughout the ages, again and again, by people much more capable than me.

All I can say is that I LOVED it, and I didn't expect to. The Odyssey was a much quicker, more thrilling, and fun read than I could have ever imagined. Fagles' translation ignited my love for ancient texts and removed all my fears about such lectures.

They aren't as scary or hard to understand as I thought. They're actually quite fun, bloody, preposterous, heart-warming, and more.

So instead of rambling about my love for Penelope, my admiration for Helen, my love-hate relationship with Odysseus and Telemachus, or my wrath for the Gods, I'll share 10 tips on how to tackle this tome.

#1 Read the verse version, not the prose ones. The Odyssey was written in verse, and it flows much more nicely and makes more sense in verse.

#2 Find the right translator. There are many translations to choose from, and I recommend Fagles' translation for its modern tone and simplicity.

#3 Manage your expectations. I had many misconceptions about The Odyssey, and I was wrong about most of them.

#4 Read it quickly. The pacing of this epic is amazing, and reading it continuously will hit you right in the feels.

#5 Do your research. Get a book with a good introduction, notes, and chronology, or find other sources online.

#6 Listen to podcasts. The Close Reads podcast and the Literature and History podcast are both great resources for understanding The Odyssey.

#7 Watch YouTube videos. Ted-Ed, CrashCourse, and Moan Inc.'s videos are all helpful for getting a better understanding of the epic.

#8 Focus on what's most interesting to you. On your first read, you won't be able to get it all, so focus on what interests you the most.

#9 Find modern influences. The Odyssey has influenced many artists throughout the centuries, so pay attention to modern texts that may be influenced by it.

#10 Don't let a modern judgment cloud your vision. Keep in mind the values of Homer's time and try to understand the epic in its historical context.

The salt-encrusted reader has finally completed his long and arduous voyage.

He has encountered a plethora of mythical figures, both men and gods, and even some women. There was the cunning Aegisthus, the divine Calypso, the powerful Sun God, the savage Cyclops who feasted on human flesh, the enchanting Circe with her braided hair, the wise prophet Tiresias, the fearsome Scylla barking and howling, and the terrifying Charybdis that sucks down black water. There was also the owl-eyed Athena, the silver-bowed Apollo, Artemis, Aphrodite, and the Harpies.

He has witnessed the beauty of the vernal dawn touching the sky with flowers, seen her fingers bloom, and heard the sound of the purple sea rushing around the stern and the pure Zephyr whistling on the wine-dark sea. He has sailed over the watery waves, seen the darkness drench the eyes of a suitor in desperate pain as an arrow pierces his liver, and beheld a sky of bronze.

He has been in awe of Odysseus, a complex and adaptable man who visited Hades while still alive, the master of plots and plans, the lying Odysseus who ruined his wife's suitors, the wanderer who finally returned home after years of war. Long-suffering Odysseus, crafty Odysseus, unflappable Odysseus, the strategist, the master of deception, the trickster, the master liar who can smile in scornful rage. Lord Odysseus, weathered Odysseus, warlike Odysseus.

He has also marveled at Penelope, who speaks shrewdly and tests her husband, melting the reader's heart.

He has read of so much weeping, especially by men. Greece seems to be a land of weepers.

Like Odysseus, he too has come home.

He wishes to express his gratitude to Kris for the invitation to this perfectly paced group read, to the other readers for their useful comments, and especially to Emily Wilson for her wonderful translation, great summaries of the books, informative notes, and outstanding Introduction to The Odyssey.

If he were to review "2018 on Goodreads", this would surely be a highlight.

When you stop and really think about it, a significant portion of classic literature seems to convey the message that getting on a boat is a rather bad idea. This book serves as a detailed list of reasons why boating might not be such a great choice. You could argue that it worked out for Odysseus, but did it really? If he isn't constantly haunted by the screams of his crew, it's perhaps only because the sheer horrors of being on that boat have overshadowed everything else. The entire Trojan War could have been avoided if Helen had simply stayed off that one fateful boat.

So, if you ever find yourself as a character in a novel (you'll recognize it by the delightful smell of freshly printed pages on the breeze), I implore you, do not get on a boat. You won't experience that "one fine day" that Gatsby hopes for in the famous line about the futility of boats (among other things). Just look at Moby Dick – surely the crew of the Pequod were all regretting their decision to set sail right before the whale doomed them all. You know what isn't trying to drown you? The solid ground beneath your feet. Ahab might have made a great baker or candlestick maker, but boats led him astray. It's more like Moby DEAD, am I right?

The danger of literary boats is very real, my friends. Poe's only novel was centered around this very theme. Heart of Darkness? It might as well be called Boats are the Heart of the Problem. Consider what happened to that old man in the sea, who almost starved to death! And there's The Open Boat by Stephen Crane, which serves as a reminder that the sea is more like an open grave. 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea was like a misguided experiment – what if we go under the water? Surely that'll work out great? Wrong. Jim Hawkins and Robinson Crusoe could have avoided countless troubles if they had stayed off boats. That movie with Jeff Bridges and his school boat was all fun and games until Ryan Phillippe met a tragic end. And watch out for Theseus' ship – we don't even know if it can still be considered the same ship! Boats are tricky like that. Just ask the orcas, they know the score.

Now, in the realm of science fiction, spaceships are essentially just space boats. And look at what happened to Paul Atreides when he took that space boat to Arrakis: it led to literal space genocide. Nobody wants that. Heck, the Death Star is just a really, really big genocide boat, and that didn't end well for anyone. 2001 A Space Odyssey features a space boat that goes on a murderous rampage and blames the crew.

So, beware of boats, you landlubbers. Leave the pirating to me.

"Percy Jackson Did It Better"

Percy Jackson is a fictional character who has captured the hearts of many readers. The story of Percy Jackson is filled with adventure, magic, and excitement.

One of the things that makes Percy Jackson stand out is his relatable personality. He is a normal kid who just happens to discover that he is a demigod. This makes him easy for readers to connect with and root for.

Another aspect that makes Percy Jackson better is the unique world-building. The author has created a rich and detailed universe filled with gods, goddesses, monsters, and heroes. This world is both familiar and strange, which adds to its appeal.

In addition, the adventures that Percy goes on are thrilling and engaging. He faces many challenges and obstacles along the way, but he always manages to overcome them with his wit and courage.

Overall, Percy Jackson is a great character and his story is one that will continue to be loved by readers of all ages.

I have a deep affection for reading The Iliad. Given that everyone has been saying that The Odyssey is even better, I had high expectations and was fully anticipating to fall in love with it. However, that wasn't the case. I did like The Odyssey, but I found it to be far less captivating than The Iliad, both in terms of its narrative and its thematic exploration. This is rather strange because I usually have a preference for adventure tales over war stories. But The Odyssey simply didn't possess the grandeur, the atmosphere of despair, the philosophical undertones, or even the literary beauty that The Iliad had.

The Odyssey reads almost like a long folk tale rather than an epic. Every translation of The Odyssey that I looked at was significantly simpler and less eloquent compared to the same translator's edition of The Iliad. I had highlighted numerous similes and beautiful lines in The Iliad, but in The Odyssey, my highlights were very few indeed.

Of course, there were parts of it that I enjoyed. The adventures are fun to read and they bring to light interesting details about the ancient myths of the Bronze Age Greek-speaking world and its surrounding lands. The sections about Odysseus' adventures (which, unfortunately, are only a very short part of the poem from books IX to XII, told in a flashback by Odysseus himself) are filled with wonder, whimsy, and excitement. I would have enjoyed The Odyssey a great deal more if those parts hadn't been overshadowed and had occupied a larger portion of the book. Everyone praises the mythical creatures and the whimsy and wonder in the book, but they forget to mention that those interesting creatures are only present in a very short section of the book. The second half only focuses on how Odysseus plans to kill all 118 of his wife's suitors and regain his "masculine prowess".

This leads me back to my usual issue with ancient texts: I have to suspend my entire system of moral judgment (based on modern standards) in order to engage with these stories. This was much easier to do in The Iliad because the setting was a battlefield, and war is never "nice and moral". But in The Odyssey, the most violent parts occur in Odysseus' own home, during times of peace, and at least partly out of sheer lust for vengeance (in contrast to the sense of duty in warriors). In this regard, The Odyssey was more difficult for me to tolerate. Every problem I had with The Iliad is also present here, just harder to overlook.

There's a scene where Telemachus hangs twelve slave women (who had slept with the suitors, thus "dishonoring" Odysseus and his family). He says he doesn't want to grant them an easy death by stabbing them but make them suffer to death. To me, this abhorrent act sounds excessive even within the context. Misogyny in The Odyssey is expressed in different ways than in The Iliad, but it's still very much present and is even more unsettling. Slavery is also much more visible and taken for granted in The Odyssey. Even so, I won't make a fuss about it because of the obvious reason of context. The Odyssey demands to be read, enjoyed, and understood within its ancient, alien context, and I recognize that.

Now, that doesn't mean that I won't give the book the credit it deserves. Many parts of it are interesting, such as the intricate details. For example, the fingers of women weaving carpets are described as "quick rustling poplar leaves". The scene where Odysseus suddenly aims his bow at Antinous describes the latter as "mindlessly twirling the wine in his goblet", ignorant of what's about to happen. There are many such examples of meticulous attention to detail that make the book astonishing.

Another downside of The Odyssey is that the gods, who were so comic, irreverent, and hilarious in The Iliad, don't get the spotlight they deserve. Athena is present throughout, and we catch glimpses of Zeus, Poseidon, and Hermes, but there are none of the stupid bickerings on top of Olympus that gave The Iliad a comical edge. The absence of the dear old "ox-eyed Lady Hera" and her hilarious scheming is quite unfortunate.

Interestingly, Odysseus is an unreliable narrator. Contrary to what is often assumed about ancient heroes, he's not black or white but a complex man, "a man of many ways" who is capable of bravery, resilience, and love as well as deceit, vengeance, and pure evil. His quick wits allow him to lie to everyone and make up interesting stories (which are completely false). It seems that most people assume he's telling the truth when he recounts his adventures, but they could just as easily be fabrications like the rest of his lies. The "narrator" never vouches for his stories. He says he encountered the Sirens and the sea monsters Charybdis and Scylla, but when have we ever seen Odysseus tell the truth? I think this aspect of the unreliability of Odysseus makes the whole story a lot more fascinating. The entire story is open to interpretation, and you can take from it whatever you will.

There are many other interesting themes and details in The Odyssey, but I want to focus on my ongoing preoccupation with translations. I have an obsessive dedication to comparing translations. I enjoyed reading everyone's introduction, translator's notes, and commentaries far more than I enjoyed the actual story. Like what I did with The Iliad, I read The Odyssey from five different English translations: two from cover to cover (Fitzgerald and Emily Wilson), most of Lattimore, and only occasionally consulted the other two (Rieu and Fagles). I read everyone's introductions in full.

First, I will quote the same lines from each of these translations so you can get an idea of what they're like. (IV. 561-67)

  Emily Wilson:
  
“Gods will carry you
off to the world’s end, to Elysium.
Those fields are ruled by tawny Rhadamanthus
and life is there the easiest for humans.
There is no snow, no heavy storms or rain,
but Ocean always sends up gentle breezes
of Zephyr to refresh the people there.”

  Fitzgerald:
  
“The gods intend you for Elysion
with golden Rhadamanthos at the world’s end,
where all existence is a dream of ease.
Snowfall is never known there, neither long
frost of winter, nor torrential rain,
but only mild and lulling airs from Ocean
bearing refreshment for the souls of men—
the West Wind always blowing.”

  Lattimore:
  
“The immortals will convoy you to the Elysian Field, and the limits of the earth, where fair-haired Rhadamanthys
is, and where there is made the easiest life for mortals,
for there is no snow, nor much winter there, nor is there ever
rain, but always the stream of the Ocean sends up breezes
of the West Wind blowing briskly for the refreshment of mortals.”

  Fagles:
  
“The deathless ones will sweep you off to the world’s end,
the Elysian Fields, where gold-haired Rhadamanthys waits,
where life glides on in immortal ease for mortal man;
no snow, no winter onslaught, never a downpour there
but night and day the Ocean River sends up breezes,
singing winds of the West refreshing all mankind.”

  Rieu:
  
“The immortals will send you to the Elysian Fields at the world’s end, to join auburn-haired Rhadamanthus in the land where living is made easy for mankind, where no snow falls, no strong winds blow and there is never any rain, but day after day the West Wind’s tuneful breeze comes in from the Ocean to refresh its people.”

The Emily Wilson Translation

I will write more about this one because it's the most interesting. Wilson's new (2017) translation (the first ever by a woman!) has a magnificent 90-page introduction in which she goes into great detail about the history and context of the epic, the origin and making of it, the Homeric question (whether a single person called Homer ever existed or not), the qualities of Homeric verse and epics, its deep roots in traditions of oral performance, the influence of myths and beliefs from inside and outside Greece on these poems, the debates and studies that scholars have focused on, each major character in the story, themes, and the topic of translation itself. Her introduction is so informative and insightful that it deserves five stars on its own.

Her comments on translations of Homer throughout the centuries are very interesting. She says that each translation is closely connected with the translator's individual interpretation of the poem and with the norms of the society in which it was produced. For example, Chapman (1615) presents Odysseus "as a true soldier and gentleman, a proto-Christian, and proto-Stoic whose greatest virtue is his ability to endure suffering and control his impulses." Alexander Pope's 18th-century translation "makes the Odyssey into a text about those essentially 18th-century preoccupations: proper manners and good government."

Wilson argues that each translation is as much a product of its own time as it is an ancient text. She continues that the "elevated, grandiloquent" language used in many translations is not accurate: all translations are "modern" compared to Homer. 18th-century English is no closer to Homer than 21st-century English is. Therefore, her translation is written in a modern language, which makes it a fast-paced and easy read but also (in my opinion) takes away some of the charm. It reads almost like a'simplified' synopsis.

She also says she's avoided importing contemporary types of sexism into the text. Other translators have used derogatory language (such as calling the slave women "sluts"), and she claims this labeling isn't present in the original Greek. Since I can't check the original, I'll take her word for it.

She claims to look at The Odyssey through a female lens and tries hard to make a case for the female characters (especially Penelope). While I appreciate her effort, I still can't think of The Odyssey as anything but misogynistic. Penelope does not have the agency and assertiveness that Wilson and many others would like to think she has. Trying to force assertiveness on female characters who are really just victimized in a patriarchal context is a bit counterproductive. I'd rather just accept that fact and move on.

Overall, I highly recommend this wonderful edition (with emphasis on the amazing intro). Her translation is readable and simple, but I would suggest you also take a quick look at one of those more "elevated" translations if you enjoy some lyricism and eloquent phrases.

The Lattimore Translation

This is by far the most literary and eloquent (which Wilson considers a negative), but I really enjoyed reading it because his writing is simply beautiful. It also relatively avoids unnecessary sexist or charged language.

- It has an introduction in which Lattimore explores the main themes, the narrative, and the characters, and also compares The Odyssey with The Iliad.

- It provides line numbers (from the original) and doesn't miss any details.

- It uses the Greek form of the names (i.e. Kirke not Circe).

I loved this translation and definitely recommend it.

The Fitzgerald Translation

This is the one I enjoyed reading the most. Its language is not as elevated as Lattimore's; it's still very eloquent and poetic but in a very readable and fluid way. It doesn't make the poem too difficult or incomprehensible, but I still like the beauty and lyricism that it provides. Its rhythm is more noticeable than Wilson's attempted iambic pentameter, and on a few occasions (whenever Hermes is speaking and the song of the Sirens), it actually rhymes. This one is my preferred edition for reading the actual poem.

- It has an afterword in which the poetic qualities of the original poem are explored, and he tries his best to show how he's tried to stay true to the meaning while also paying a lot of attention to rhythm and lyricism. He provides many lines in Greek (which I couldn't read) and elaborates on his examples.

- It uses the Greek versions of the names.

- Provides a list of further reading and critical texts about Homer and has a glossary.

- The only problem with it is that it doesn't provide line numbers. (Not a problem for a casual read, but if you're trying to compare translations, the lack of line numbers can be frustrating.)

Still, I definitely recommend it.

The Fagles Translation

This one is easy to read, it's pretty straightforward, but it uses some modern slangs and language that feel a bit out of place. I didn't connect with it that much, and it didn't stand out, so I only consulted it on certain interesting phrases.

- It has an introduction by Bernard Knox which is almost a repetition of his introduction to The Iliad but is still interesting.

- It uses the more familiar Romanized names (i.e. Telemachus and not Telemakhos).

On the plus side:

- It provides line numbers, offers maps, genealogy charts, suggestions on further reading, and a pronunciation glossary, which are all great.

The Rieu Translation

This is the only prose version that I consulted. It's fine if you like prose. It's easy to understand and straightforward (but I only consulted it occasionally). It uses what Wilson called unnecessary sexist language.

- It has a nice and long 40-page introduction in which he explores the history of Homeric poems, reading Homer, problems with The Odyssey, themes and individual characters, and also the problems and limitations of translation itself. It has a note on its previous 1964 edition too.

- It uses Romanized names.

- Provides the original line numbers within the prose (sometimes mid-sentence).

- Has maps, many endnotes, and a list of suggestions for further reading (similar to Fagles' suggestions).

Final Rating

I give five stars for everyone's introductions (especially Wilson's), three stars for the story (compared to The Iliad, whose rating I upgraded to 5), and 3.5 stars as my final rating. I might come back and round it down in the future.

In the end, I feel like I enjoyed the introductions and commentaries more than the story itself. Even though I still like The Iliad more, I certainly loved immersing myself in the world of The Odyssey and learning a great deal from it.

The Odyssey is a captivating epic that explores a plethora of themes. The Guest-Host Code of Conduct is a prominent one, highlighting the importance of proper hospitality in ancient Greek society. In contrast to modern times, hosts in Homer's poem were expected to bathe, anoint, and clothe their guests, and offer them parting gifts. The lack of such treatment in the modern world shows how far we have strayed from this important code.

Loyalty and faithfulness are also central themes, with Penelope serving as the ultimate example. Despite the advances of 108 suitors, she remains faithful to Odysseus for 20 years, waiting for his return. Odysseus, on the other hand, has his own share of adventures and dalliances on his journey home, but his determination and cunning ultimately lead him back to his wife and son.

Resilience and perseverance are another major theme, as Odysseus and his crew face numerous challenges and setbacks on their journey. Despite their hardships, they continue to push forward, never giving up hope of returning home. The Odyssey also showcases the importance of cunning and deceitfulness, which are seen as positive attributes in Homer's world. Odysseus uses his wits to outsmart his enemies and overcome obstacles, proving that sometimes a little bit of trickery can go a long way.

Robert Fagles' translation of The Odyssey is highly readable and accessible, capturing the essence of the original text while also making it relevant to modern readers. His non-rhyming verse translation with varying line lengths sounds traditional and maintains the fast-paced and energetic tone of Homer's work. Overall, The Odyssey is a must-read for anyone interested in ancient Greek mythology, adventure stories, or the human condition. It is a timeless classic that continues to captivate readers with its rich characters, exciting plot, and profound themes.

5 ⭐

“… I would walk sail 500 [nautical] miles
and I would walk sail 500 more,
just to be the man who walked sailed a thousand [nautical] miles
to fall down slay the suitors at your door.”
- Odysseus the Proclaimer


I’ve been under the weather the last week or so, feeling about as upbeat as Uranus’ following his castration at the hands of his own Son Cronus; or as joyous as Pasiphae recovering her senses and grasping the full extent of her dalliance with the snow-white bull. Alas, I’m better now and am pleased to finally get a chance to “review” this beauty! In keeping with my self-enforced regulation on bringing an unparalleled level of sophistication and succinctness to my analyses of these illustrious cornerstones of Western Mythology, I’ll be covering the themes that stood out most prominently to me and strictly in the most intellectual and earnest fashion.


\\"Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest!\\"
The Guest-Host Code of Conduct is a constant throughout Homer’s poem and, when compared to the state of modern hospitality, it becomes clear that we’ve lost our way; By the river Styx, woe be us, we have lost our way! Not once do I recall a host ever offering to have me bathed, rubbed down with oil and dressed in a fine robe when I've deigned to visit their abode. What has come of us?! Has Zeus, being the God this most concerns, lost his zeal for the divine enforcement of the etiquette of hospitality? For the love of the Gods, lather me! And forget not to bestow upon me a parting gift!
In general, a host is most likely to be at fault in the interaction between guest and host if they don’t properly cater to any wayward soul that stumbles upon their palace but the opposite can also be seen in the 108 suitors who, in attempting to court the absent Odysseus’ wife, Penelope, in a brutish, non-ritualistic manner, take advantage of their host’s hospitality, consuming their reserves of food and wine and ravishing their female servants.
If the domestic settings of Homer's epics are at all reflective of Ancient Greek society in the time they were written, there is an interesting parallel regarding ritual propriety and even, to a lesser degree, filial piety with Chinese culture in the time of Confucius, several hundred years later.


”The fame of her great virtue will never die.
The immortal gods will lift a song for all mankind,
A glorious song in praise of self-possessed Penelope” - Agamemnon
Loyalty and faithfulness, in all their forms are a big one and nobody embodies these more than Odysseus’ wife, Penelope, the soul of loyalty! (Besides maybe Argos, the loyal dog) Despite Odysseus advising her to wed the man she likes as soon as she sees hair on, their son, Telemachus’ face, she holds out for 20 years despite 108 oily degenerates attempting to court her when it is presumed Odysseus dies at Troy. What a woman! Gents, find yourself a Penelope! Ladies, if the men in this book are anything to go by, I’m afraid you’ll probably have to settle for a Pepé Le Pew.
It’s probably worth noting that Hesiod, Homer's contemporary, states, in his Theogony of the Gods, that Odysseus sired 4 children on his 10-year journey home; 2 with Calypso and 2 with Circe. So, while Penelope was faithfully waiting for him at home, he was gettin’ down with 2 Nymph Goddesses (that we know of)! Ok, I’m being a little flippant here; at least one of these was totally against his will *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*. One notices a distinct lack of detail when Odysseus recounts his adventures to his wife.


”When a man cries, it’s the last thing he wants to do… He will do anything but cry. He will stop himself crying no matter how tragic it is. And he would do everything, and only when he’s completely defeated emotionally will he start to cry properly.” - Michael Caine
Michael Caine obviously never read ‘The Odyssey’ ‘cos while resilience/perseverance are another major theme of ‘The Odyssey’, there is also A LOT of grown ass men crying! There’s nothing wrong with that and, in context, I should mention that Caine made that comment in an acting masterclass BUT these are battle-hardened soldiers who are returning home from a 10-year war and have absolutely no qualms raping and pillaging as they go. I hardly think they are the super-sentimental types. I’m not talking a tear trickling down the cheek either; we’re talking platoons of soldiers in a communal sob session, wailing, shrieking, going full Timberlake-cry-me-a-river at the slightest provocation! However, once the tears have abated, our characters always push on, particularly Odysseus and “what good can come of grief?” appears a recurring rhetorical query and the message appears to be, dust yourself off and carry on!


Odysseus is not a great guy really, but his determination and ability to will himself on in the face of great odds is endearing, regardless of his shortcomings. He is the hero of the story and held in high esteem for possessing many of the typical Homeric heroes attributes: Strength, bravery, godly physique, and also diplomacy, tactfulness, cunning and deceitfulness (also seen as a positive attribute). I couldn’t help having a bit of a chuckle when Odysseus and a small number of his crew are stuck in, the Cyclops, Polyphemus’ cave and trying to deduce a means of escape. Homer is really trying to drive home Odysseus’ cunning— ”My wits kept weaving, weaving cunning schemes… till this plan struck my mind as best” and then:
\\n  \\n
”Hey, hey, guys, GUYS! Hide yourselves beneath the sheep! Two sheep to a man; except me, I’ll take this large one. He’ll never see us! Oh, Gods be praised, I’m so cunning; a real clever sausage!”

Odysseus at his finest! A man endowed with the God’s own wisdom; foxy, ingenious!.... Anyone who thinks Homer didn’t have a sense of humour is kidding themselves.


Following a positive experience with Robert Fagles’ translation of ‘The Iliad’, I opted for the deluxe edition of his Odyssey translation for the ‘Penguin Classics’ line and, once again, I thought it was very readable. It’s a non-rhyming verse translation with varying line length. I think it succeeds in sounding traditional while also being absolutely accessible to the modern reader. Fagles mentions something along the lines of Homer’s works being quite fast paced and energetic and, without any knowledge of the original, it seems to me that he's succeeded in maintaining this high level of rapidity and excitement. There was only one example of, what I thought was, a poor translation when, at one point, Fagles uses the phrase ”cramping my style”. I’m being knit-picky but it doesn’t fit with the overall tone of the rest of the text and feels too modern. Bernard Knox’s introduction and notes are also, once again, fascinating and illuminating regarding the origins and the nature of the poem, particularly a discussion on the more prominent (read:existent) role of women in the Odyssey when compared with the sausage-fest that is the Iliad.


More than anything, for me, ‘The Odyssey’ is just a rollicking good adventure! If you’re perhaps someone who tried the Iliad and didn’t enjoy it (what is wrong with you?!) but really love Mythology retellings, you may very well still love this one which has an entirely different thematic focus and overall tone; less relentless war, more of combination of treachorous journey and domestic affair! I really can’t recommend it highly enough.
It's as glorious as the young dawn with her rose-red fingers!

Really enjoyed this translation by Emily Wilson!

It was easy to understand and didn't refer to women in derogatory terms like "bitch", "whore" or "slut" as some other translations of this work do. This makes it a far more enjoyable read.

Due to the oral nature of how these stories were originally told, many things do repeat themselves. A significant portion of this book is about hospitality, food, and an excessive amount of wine. I wonder how Odysseus managed to get anything done as I would have been too drunk and passed out.

I liked Odysseus' adventure home, but for some reason, I thought there would be more adventures or they would be longer. In fact, a large part of this was actually about Telemachus (his son), the suitors, and hospitality rather than the adventure and action that I was expecting.

However, this was a fantastic translation and I truly loved this version. It offers a fresh perspective on the classic tale and makes it accessible to a wider audience. The attention to detail and the avoidance of offensive language add to the overall quality of the translation. I would highly recommend this version to anyone interested in Greek mythology or literature.

"Volver, con la frente marchita, las nieves del tiempo platearon mi sien. Sentir, que es un soplo la vida, que veinte años no es nada, que febril la mirada, errante en las sombras, te busca y te nombra. Vivir, con el alma aferrada, a un dulce recuerdo que lloro otra vez." This beautiful and poignant quote sets the tone for our exploration of Homer's "Odyssey".

I wholeheartedly agree with the journalist and translator Joan Casas. In the prologue of this edition, he states that if themes and songs were to be assembled for a soundtrack of this book, "Volver" would have been the main theme. This immortal tango by Gardel and Le Pera is the most odyssean of all times, as its heartfelt stanzas resonate with the story of our hero, Laertíada, the son of Zeus, the astute Ulysses. However, I would add a caveat: Ulysses never returns with a withered brow. Instead, he holds his head high,超越了他在返乡途中十年所遭受的苦难、耻辱和损失，在特洛伊战争十年后，他终于踏上了他深爱的伊萨卡岛。

I have always believed that to read the "Odyssey", it is essential to first finish the "Iliad". Although, in reality, the correct order would be to first read Hesiod's "Theogony", where the poet tells the origin of the world until the appearance of all the gods of Olympus, which Homer and the rest of the most important Greek poets will later take as part of their epic and tragic tales.

Then comes the Trojan War as told to us in the "Iliad", and later, the books that narrate the returns, on the one hand, of Ulysses in the "Odyssey", and that of Aeneas in the "Aeneid" after the destruction of Troy (this narrated by the Latin poet Virgil but which has a direct connection with the other epic poems), along with the return of Agamemnon to his home, narrated by Aeschylus, with a completely opposite result to that of Ulysses. For, unlike Penelope, he is assassinated by his wife Clytemnestra and Aegisthus, her lover. And later, the "Oresteia", also by Aeschylus, which tells the vengeance of Orestes, son of Agamemnon, by killing the murderer of his father.

Unfortunately, I did not follow that order of reading. I first read the "Aeneid", then the "Iliad" and the "Odyssey", and now I have begun with the "Theogony".

But let's return to this wonderful book. I have truly enjoyed it in the same way as I did the "Iliad". The difference is that in this book, its reading has been even more pleasant for me, as I notice a clearer and more charming prose than in the "Iliad", despite being written in hexameters. Perhaps what the historians say about Homer is true, and it may be that there are many years between the "Iliad" and the "Odyssey".

It is as if the first was told by a very young Homer, perhaps 25 years old, let's say, while the second has a different tone in its hexameters, as if it had been told by a Homer of sixty years.

Going to the story itself, in the "Odyssey" we once again find the divine intervention, with the difference that in this book there are not as many gods who appear. I would say there are four: Poseidon, Zeus, Pallas Athena, and Hermes.

The story begins when Homer narrates the misfortune of Ulysses while he is held captive in a cave by the nymph Calypso, who offers him immortality in exchange. Pallas Athena hears the pleas that Ulysses makes to her and frees him, but warns him that he will suffer many evils and death will always lurk around him.

On the other hand, we experience the anguishing hours of his wife, the discreet Penelope, and his only son Telemachus. To make matters worse, believing the supposed death of the hero, his palace is visited by many suitors who begin to devastate all the riches that Ulysses left and also court Penelope to marry her. This leads Telemachus to undertake a journey in search of his father, first to Pylos and then to Sparta, where he meets old war heroes like the ancient Nestor and the Atreid Menelaus, brother of Agamemnon.

Ulysses, on his journey, arrives in Phaeacia where he is received with kindness and honors. There he will find Demodocus, a blind poet, which makes us think that Homer pays homage to himself to be part of the legends that this book narrates.

Soon his journey will become tortuous and his troubles will begin when he unleashes the fury of the god Poseidon for killing his son (the three most important gods in Greek mythology are Zeus, king of Olympus, bearer of the aegis and owner of the thunderbolt and the thunder, Poseidon, who shakes the earth and controls the seas, and Hades who rules Tartarus and the world of the dead), the Cyclops Polyphemus who keeps Ulysses and his men captive in a cave.

His encounter with Circe, the perverse goddess who turns the gods into animals, also has a special climax. She puts Ulysses and all his men to the test, and later things become really dark during their arrival on the island where the Cows of the Sun graze, as they will be severely punished and the outcome will be tragic.

Despite so many misfortunes, throughout the story, it is always Pallas Athena, the goddess of protection, who safeguards both Ulysses and Penelope and Telemachus during their repeated misfortunes. And he also has the fundamental help of another god: Hermes (or Mercury in Roman mythology) when "winged words" must be made to reach one or the other with the most important messages.

But peace will not last long for Ulysses when, far from Phaeacia, he will have to face what Poseidon has in store for him in his destiny: to avoid the ambush of the Sirens, which for many is the easiest way to identify the book, although Homer dedicates only a small portion of hexameters to this encounter.

For me, the most difficult and mortal obstacle that Ulysses must avoid is in the strait between two rocks where the infernal sea creatures Scylla and Charybdis are located, and I believe it is the worst moment he experiences in all his journey. Death wreaks havoc in this passage.

Another chapter that passionately interests me is his journey to Hades because it makes me remember the inevitable Canto VI of the "Aeneid" when Aeneas descends to the infernos to rescue his father Anchises and, of course, Dante's Inferno together with Virgil, who, by chance, is the creator of the "Aeneid".

All this forms part of the "universal deduction", as a dear friend of mine says.

In Hades, after passing through the fields of Asphodel, Ulysses will meet the shadows of his friends who died in the battles in Troy. Agamemnon will parade before him, as well as the shadow of his beloved mother, who died of grief, Tiresias, the blind Theban prophet (yes, the same one who appears in Sophocles' tragedy "Oedipus Rex"), his most admired and illustrious Peleid, Achilles, the shadow of the brave Ajax Telamon, offended, and also an innumerable parade of mythological beings like the Titans Tantalus, Sisyphus, and Hercules, son of Zeus. He is entrusted with facing the gorgon Persephone, but he does not risk it and continues on his way.

And so, one day he finally arrives at his beloved Ithaca, but it will not be easy to have his wife and children in his arms. Disguised by Pallas Athena as a beggar, he will have to endure countless more humiliations and misfortunes before a horde of unpleasant suitors who plunder and loot the goods of his dwelling. So much insolence will make them pay dearly, for divine Ulysses, together with his son Telemachus, Eumaeus, and Philoetius, will turn the floors of the palace into a real river of blood, necessary to finally embrace his beloved wife and his elderly father Laertes.

Finally, peace will reign because Zeus, at the pleas of Pallas Athena, so decreed.

Twenty years is nothing, astute Ulysses.

You can rest peacefully, for the end justifies the means.