The Iliad is a captivating epic that tells the story of the Trojan War.

It is filled with countless deaths and gruesome scenes, as described by the lines "Páginas e páginas de cabeças e membros decepados, de tripas pelo chão, onde 'a terra corria negra de sangue.'"

However, within this tale of war, there are also themes of love. The love between Paris and Helena, which led to the abduction of Menelau's wife and the subsequent attack on Troy by the Greeks.

The love between Achilles and Patroclus, which caused Achilles to forget his grudge against Agamemnon and re-enter the battle.

The love of Hector for his family and his city of Ilium, which made him sacrifice his own life.

The love of Priam for his son Hector, which led him to humble himself and beg Achilles for Hector's body.

The love of Apollo for Hector, which is shown by his care for Hector's corpse.

Despite being a story of war, The Iliad also explores the humanity of its characters. It shows their passions, ambitions, pride, cruelty, vanity, solidarity, and many other emotions.

This makes the poem an immortal and infinitely magical and beautiful work of art.

While the lives of women in the poem seem to have little value, the same can be said for the lives of men.

For example, Achilles killed twelve noble Trojans and two dogs without a fight to add to the pyre of Patroclus.

Overall, The Iliad is a complex and multi-faceted work that continues to fascinate readers today.

"E assim foi o funeral de Heitor, domador de cavalos."

Those who are happy today travel with books and stories. The heroes of mythology and the victims of confinement have learned to get along. Take Ulysses, for example; everyone knows his story. Armed with a certificate of exit to wage war, he leaves Penelope and heads to Troy. Others, like Vian, might have deserted, but he doesn't. He engages in war, and it lasts for ten years. He could have gone home, but no: in those days, heroes were all rebellious, just like the gods. It's truly a science fiction novel of its time! In the Trojan part of the story, Homer is the epicenter of our emotions: Achilles and his anger will lead the Greeks to defeat. In the game of feelings, the gods have no equal among people. Surely, men have an interest in standing tall like heroes, emulating their courage and determination.

I'm freeeeeee!

But this freedom comes with the worst experience of my lifeeeeeeeee.

It all started when I found myself in a situation that I never expected.

There were challenges and difficulties at every turn.

I felt completely overwhelmed and lost.

The stress and pressure were almost unbearable.

But somehow, I managed to push through.

I learned a lot about myself during this time.

I discovered my strengths and weaknesses.

And although it was the worst experience, it also made me a stronger person.

Now that I'm free, I'm ready to move on and make the most of this new beginning.

I'll never forget what I've been through, but I'm looking forward to a better future.

The way the gods were described was interesting and I really liked it:

Zeus, who has thunder in his hands and a beard;

Hera, who has white and marble shoulders;

Achilles, who has flexible and beautiful feet;

Athena, who has sky-blue eyes...

The Iliad is a complete story of the toys and tools of the gods being humans. People who prayed to their gods, made sacrifices, had desires and dreams... but all for nothing... In fact, the war between the Greeks and the Trojans was a war between the gods. Zeus, Ares, and Aphrodite on one side, Hera and Athena on the other... and in the middle, the heroes were sacrificed... Achilles, Hector, Menelaus, Patroclus, Ajax, and...

I enjoyed reading it. It was as if I was really in the war with them and could even hear the sound of the war... The descriptions were excellent, especially the scene of Patroclus' death. How wonderfully it was described: I felt like I was watching this scene from a movie with a close-up... When Phoebus Apollo snatched his helmet and shield from him... When Euphorbus stabbed him in the back... and when Hector cut off his head with his sword... The details of the reading, the threats, and the words before their deaths were very beautiful...

How different a book is from its movie... How beautifully and heroically it was written... I love you, the blind Greek poet.

I will come to your land soon

I read it only because it is Donny Tartt's favorite book.

This simple statement holds a certain charm. It makes one wonder what exactly makes this book so special in Donny Tartt's eyes.

Maybe it's the unique storyline that keeps the reader on the edge of their seat, or perhaps it's the beautifully crafted characters that come to life on the pages.

It could also be the author's writing style, which has the power to transport the reader to another world.

Whatever the reason may be, it's clear that this book has had a significant impact on Donny Tartt.

And by reading it, we too can get a glimpse into the mind and tastes of this individual.

It's a way to connect with someone through the medium of literature and discover new perspectives and ideas.

So, even though the reason for reading it may seem straightforward, there is much more to it than meets the eye.

‘‘La Ilíada’’ is a vast and stratified story about war that blends the worlds of the individual with that of his “nation” and with that of the great immortal divine gods, where each layer is fascinating. As a story about war, it is also a story about the destruction of lives and the increasing desensitization of readers. For this reason and many others, ‘‘La Ilíada’’ is a profoundly disturbing story.

Encountering this work is like entering a museum where numerous secondary or tertiary important products in smaller galleries lead to a large central atrium that contains the Iliad. The poem is the aesthetic center of the entire collection. This is the great paradox of Greek literature: it does not begin with something crude, primitive, that needs development or refinement. No, what we have is a work of such astonishing perfection that it remains the standard by which all else is measured.

Many men die in this story, in which each of them has some legendary ability, some promising life, that is interrupted by another who has another legendary ability and another promising life. Each man has an additional name attached to his own, that of his father, who will lament his loss. With this, Homer portrays with unwavering honesty the terrible cost of war, where lives are destroyed, families are torn apart, and cities are condemned to destruction. The death of each man is dramatic, graphic, hand-to-hand and face-to-face, a contest in which all men are equal and yet none is as good as Achilles. This man whose glory is made by his great power, which is only revealed by his great vanity. He refuses to fight for years and, as a result, his entire nation's army is almost completely annihilated.

I think it is worth mentioning a lot about the scope of the characters presented in this tale, because it is worth noting that none of them is particularly detailed or complete. In fact, I would say that these characters are profoundly superficial. However, this did not matter to me, although the lack of character development was somewhat confusing. Having said this, it allowed me to build a very simple understanding of the men and (few) women in this story, so I connected them almost singularly with certain traits or character ideas.

Reading this was hard work because its many pages are filled with seemingly endless graphic descriptions of killings on the battlefield, but every now and then there is a passage that is so astonishing or ridiculously bloody that it makes it worth reading. Ultimately, this is a wonderful story about war, which encapsulates the extremes of human experience and the Iliad expresses it with words. It is beautiful, terrible, stupid, and noble all at once. Although the characters are gods, demigods, and heroes, they all feel completely human. They are petty and irrational and contradict themselves daily, but they also care about love, glory, honor, and family. It shows that the line between good and evil is within each person, not between groups: I loved and hated the Trojans and the Greeks, depending on the page I was on at that moment. It definitely earns its place as an eternal classic.

At my college graduation, the speaker was a gruff professor. He was one of those older men whom people somewhat patronizingly describe as a teddy bear. The idea being that while he looks like Santa Claus, they wouldn’t be surprised to see him arraigned on assault charges at the local courthouse. I liked this professor in general, and his graduation speech was grand. It was a warm congratulations on a crisp early-summer day.

However, he decided to inform us that anyone who had not read The Iliad and The Odyssey should not be graduating from college. I was one of those lucky (lucky?) folks, like an illiterate kid graduating from high school. I decided to rectify the situation as soon as possible. In the next few, sunny weeks, I spent an indefinite number of hours laying in a hammock on my porch. The boy I loved commiserated with me about this wonderful book. It is a warm, sharp memory. That was many years ago, and this summer, since I just graduated again, I thought I would read it again. It was a good choice. Warm, summer days in the hammock with limb-chopping, flashing helms, and mountain goats rushing down the hillside.

I can’t find this quote I’m thinking of, but I’m pretty sure it’s from Beowulf, and it goes something like, “Brave men should seek fame in foreign lands.” Google does not think that quote exists, so maybe I dreamed it, which is really neither here nor there, but kind of weird. Something about that quote, about this book, and about the way this book reminds me of that quote, makes my blood beat close to my skin. I get this feeling that my heart grows too big for my ribs, and my eyeballs get tight, as though I’m going to cry. But, my heart doesn’t pound, and no tears come.

That is how this book feels to me. This story is about what Homer doesn’t describe as much as what he does, and reading it evokes some kind of mirroring response from my body. The Iliad is the almost-death of Achilles, the almost-destruction of Troy, and reading it is an almost-panic-attack, an almost-sob. It is the absent top step in a flight of stairs. But, oh man, that flight of stairs. How do you even make that?

It’s not possible to spoil this story because Homer is always one step ahead, tripping you up about what story he’s telling. So, just because I think it’s fun (and, also because it seems kind of absurd to write a “review” of The Iliad, so I’m wandering in the dark here), I’m going to give a brief summary. This story is about a bunch of guys fighting over some women (or fleshlights as the author cheekily puts it) and jewelry. Mostly the women. Everyone’s been at this war for nine years (sidebar: weirdly, when I read that it was nine years, I thought, “NINE YEARS? WHO WOULD FIGHT A WAR FOR THAT LONG? Oh, wait . . . .”). As you probably know, the war initially started because Paris, a Trojan, stole Helen, who was the iPhone 5 of fleshlights, from Menelaus, an Argive. The Argives are at their ships; the Trojans are in Ilium, behind the city walls. There’s lots of blood and guts and pillaging throughout.

This story, Homer clearly tells us, is about Paris and Helen’s betrayal of Menelaus, and it is about the death of Achilles. The story opens with Agamemnon, the king of the Argives, having stolen a fancy new fleshlight from Achilles, who is a child of a water nymph. Achilles refuses to continue fighting if Agamemnon is going to take his fleshlight. Then, Achilles has this beautiful, beautiful moment where he questions the very nature of fighting over fleshlights. We are all pawns in the petty squabbles of the gods.

The gods are easily my favorite parts of this story, though it is not really about them in a certain way. It is not really about them in the way that any discussion of a god is not really about the god. On the one hand, it is about how our lives are just pawns in this squabbling, incestuous, eternal Thanksgiving dinner in the sky. On the other hand, it is still about the pawns. The gods are compelling on their own, but my heart tries to escape my chest not because of their story, but because, yes, humans do live and die by some kind of petty lottery run by a rapist married to his sister. Yes. And maybe there is someone bold and wonderful in the sky, like the grey-eyed Athena, but we still live and die by the thunder of a maniacal drunk uncle. Yes, that seems true.

So, in the midst of the chopping of limbs, the shatteringly beautiful similes, death after death, and the machinations of the dysfunctional immortal family, this story is about the betrayal of Menelaus and the death of Achilles. The thing that is absolutely, hands-down the most insane about this story to me is that those two events are deeply vivid in my mind in connection to this book, but neither of them actually happens here. How is that possible?! How do you plant enough seeds about an event in a reader’s mind that when she closes a book, those seeds grow into whole, robust images about the event? My blood does that thing where it tries to get out of my skin just from thinking about that. I can picture Achilles's death so vividly, picture lying in that hammock and reading it after I graduated from college, but that never happened. Homer just planted the seeds of his death in my brain, and they grew from my constant pondering over them. Helen and Paris sailing away grew in my mind through Helen’s beautiful regrets.

This is a story that I could think about for days: Helen’s mourning, like the women I’ve seen apologize for causing their husbands’ abuse (no, you didn’t cause this); war, and the futility of killing each other, as though we are controlled by the Kardashians of the sky. What causes violence? We say women cause violence because they push our buttons, so we’re driven to maim and kill because of the betrayals and button pushing. We say that something eternal, God or the gods, cause violence because they control our fate, they appear to us as birds and as wisdom and lead us on our night-blind path of life, but they lead us erratically: drunk, hysterical drivers and us with no seat belt, so we grasp for mere survival. Homer describes those motivations for violence so beautifully.

But, ultimately I think that is all bullshit, and I think the bullshitness of it is there in this story, too. It is there in Achilles challenging Agamemnon. It is there in Achilles mourning Patroclus. Oh, Patroclus, about whom I haven’t even freaked in this review. What a shame. Anyway, though, people are not violent because we were betrayed or because of supernatural trickery. Our violence is ours; it is our choice and our responsibility. Life is barbarous and cruel around us, but that is its nature, and we can only shape ourselves through and around it. When we expect life to be gentle and obedient, we are usually doing nothing more than justifying our own cruelty. I don’t think there is an answer to any of this in The Iliad, but it is beautifully told in both the positive and negative space. It is blood-poundingly, eye-achingly told. As my professor said, everyone should read this, and if you can read it in the sun, lying in a hammock after your graduation, all the better.

\\"Did you really LIKE the Iliad, mum?\\"

My son has just completed reading it, and his query is legitimate. Do you truly LIKE to peruse line after line of bloody murder, reiterated ceaselessly from song to song?

I dodged the question, talking about the wonderful opening lines, of classic art and its enormous influence on other authors. And then I relented - a little:

\\"The Odyssey is far more interesting as a story!\\" I asserted.

\\"So you didn't like it then?\\"

\\"I liked reading it!\\"

And we concurred that some books simply ARE. As a reader, you will desire to take them on at some point, and the rules you apply to more contemporary works of fiction do not hold. You give yourself 5 stars for finishing, for knowing more than you did prior to commencing. But then my son slew the Iliad with a spear as sharp as those of Homeric warriors. He likened it to Greek tragedy. And that is where I faltered: those ARE too - but I also LIKE reading them. They are thought-provoking, thrilling, and classic. Troy's downfall from the perspective of Philoctetes is sheer literary delight. The Iliad is not. But it persists...

What can I possibly say? Truly, it is one of the greatest works of art our species has ever produced. Even after well over 2000 years, it remains profoundly moving, thrilling, philosophically rich, and emotionally complex.

I have perused other translations in the past, but this new rendition by Caroline Alexander completely blew me away. Pope's version is poetry of the highest caliber and was perhaps my favorite until now. However, the gap between it and the "original" is rather vast. What this new version lacks in poetry, it compensates for in immediacy, clarity, and (as far as I can determine from my research) fidelity. Nothing feels contrived, nothing is overly modernized, and nothing is too artificially antiquated. I would unreservedly recommend this translation as the new gold standard.

If you read the Iliad a long time ago, or only know it by reputation, or mistakenly believe it to be just a lot of macho killing, or do not anticipate finding subtle, believable female characters within... well... all I can say is that you should give this new version (yes, the first by a woman. And, yes, that does matter) a try.

It has been difficult to finish it. There is no doubt in my mind that it is the densest book I have read. However, something still motivated me to continue. I have learned a great deal about the Greek gods and the language that Homer uses is precious in and of itself, regardless of what it tells. But on top of that, there are super emotional scenes. I recommend it, but one has to pick it up with enthusiasm.

I found myself constantly challenged by the complexity of the text, yet I couldn't put it down. The stories of the Greek gods are both fascinating and awe-inspiring. Homer's use of language is so rich and vivid that it brings the characters and events to life. The emotional scenes, in particular, tugged at my heartstrings and made me feel a deep connection to the story.

Despite the difficulties, I am glad that I persevered and completed this book. It has broadened my knowledge and understanding of Greek mythology and has given me a new appreciation for the beauty and power of language. If you are interested in Greek mythology or simply looking for a challenging and rewarding read, I highly recommend this book. Just be prepared to put in the effort and read with an open mind and heart.

Almost three thousand years ago, an individual or group wrote a book to preserve their culture and pass it on to the next generation. That book contributed to the foundation of a great civilization, and its influence was so significant that it brought from the ancient Greek tragedians to modern writers under its shadow. The Iliad is this remarkable work and one of the rich roots of literature, a work that can be considered the first completely preserved work. After all these years, it is still important and worth reading.

In short, it may seem ridiculous to talk about a work like the Iliad. However, I assume that perhaps someone like myself may not know anything about this book, and this may help. The story of the Iliad begins with the ten-year siege of the city of Troy. Paris, the prince of Troy, abducts Helen, the wife of Menelaus, who was the most beautiful woman in the world, and takes her to Troy. Menelaus, along with his brother Agamemnon, who were both kings of the Greeks, unite the Greeks and levy an army to attack and recapture Helen from Troy, and they besiege the city for ten years. The story of the Iliad starts from the last days of this siege and continues until the death of Hector (the brave prince of Troy) and the recovery of his body (the spoil has no meaning in such a work, and apart from this, Mr. Homer himself refers to this subject in the kraters).

The Iliad is both a complete book and has a need for a preface and continuation. In this regard, it is a complete book that has transmitted what it should well. It is an epic account of the Trojan War, introducing the heroes and champions for the Greek society, paying attention to the gods and the ancient rites and ceremonies so that this system becomes complete in its own goal. However, in this regard, I say that it has a need for a preface and continuation because some things like the problem of Paris' judgment, the introduction and classification of the gods in this war, and the fate of the city of Troy and the character of Achilles are not mentioned in the book, and one must refer to other sources and books to learn about these developments. This is because we are not in that culture and society, otherwise such things would not be a problem for a person who lives in that Greek society in the time of Homer or later, and according to the saying, all these things have been preserved.

One thing I should also say about the type of narrative of the Iliad is that if you have not yet gone to this work, you should know what you are dealing with. The type of narrative of the Iliad is not linear, perhaps it can be said to be branched. It is like this that we have a starting point and the main line of the story, but branches and leaves of the story are constantly added and it branches off into different things. Sometimes a new character is introduced and Homer starts to talk about him, or for example, in the middle of the war, we go to Olympus and read about the affairs and adventures of the gods. I feel that if you know such a thing, perhaps you will read the book better and it will be less tiring for you.

But why should we read the Iliad? Two main reasons can be given for answering such a question. First, as I said, the Iliad has had a very influential effect on world literature, especially in the West. If you are interested in tracing the roots and influential works, you must read the Iliad. But the second reason is that the Iliad is a source for getting to know the people of that time. Their way of looking at problems, values, beliefs, and customs...

Regarding the translation, I myself read it with the translation of Seyyed Nafisi. The translation is very good. However, if you like to engage with specific literary texts and want your experience of reading the Iliad and the Odyssey to be more special, I recommend Mr. Kazazi's translation to you. Although both translations are excellent, there are also some minor criticisms of them.

I read this work with an excellent group. The charming Olympians who were excellent co-readers and with their excellent knowledge, they made me experience and understand this work better, and along with it, with the different discussions that we had in the group, I learned a lot of things. I want to thank all of them. And I'm waiting for the end of Farvardin to go to the Odyssey, and I hope that all that will be an extraordinary experience.

Foolish me. I thought I was simply going to peruse the different editions of The Iliad and pick out the one that seemed the most readable. Little did I reckon with the overwhelming beauty of the language and the story. The truth is, it truly doesn't matter which edition you choose, as long as you read at least one. It's inevitable that you'll find yourself drawn to the question of the most beautiful and complete rendition, but you may (wisely) concede defeat in the face of the beauty of each.

The Homeric epics are said to be the greatest stories, martial stories, ever sung or written of all time. So, if for some reason they didn't resonate with you in high school, you might want to revisit what your teachers were talking about. When they describe the death of a man in the full bloom of his strength, looking like a flower in a rainstorm, head and neck aslant, unable to withstand the beating rain, we understand. I listened to the audio of Stephen Mitchell’s streamlined translation, and it was utterly ravishing and compelling.

The Iliad is just one episode among many in Homer’s epics, and it may have been assumed that listeners of the original spoken performance would be familiar with all the players in this war. Some, including British scholar M.L. West, argue that The Iliad has had pieces added to it over the years. Stephen Mitchell follows West’s scholarship and strips out the extra passages, a notion expanded upon in a review of Mitchell’s translation by classicist Daniel Mendelsohn in The New Yorker (2011). Mitchell’s translation may be the most readable, the most listenable one in English. It is also the shortest. Mitchell also shortens the lines in English so that they have speed and momentum for an impressive delivery.

The recent (2017) Peter Green translation, begun when Green was nearly 90 years old, is similarly easy to read. Green tells us that he began in a relaxed attitude for diversion and completed the whole within a year. Colin Burrow reviewed Green's translation in the June 18th 2015 edition of the London Review of Books. Neither the writing nor the reading of this version is anguished or tortured, and Burrow points out that Green was a historian but didn't allow that to obfuscate or weigh down the poetry.

The Green & Mitchell versions both retain a long recitation of those who prepared their ships to sail with Agamemnōn to Troy to bring back Helen, the wife of Menelaös. One imagines ancient listeners shouting when their region is named, much along the lines of the cheering section of a field game, when each player’s name is called. And later, as the blow-by-blow of the battle proceeded, one imagines each region cheering when mention of their leader is declaimed, though some died horrible deaths.

This is another reason to read this ancient work: We live and die not unlike one another, we who lived so far apart in time. And perhaps the ardor young men of today have for the sword and for fame will be doused by the utterly desolate manner of death recounted here, one in particular that I cannot forget: a spear through the buttock and into the bladder meant a painful and ugly death. However, it is true that Achilles chose fame over life, knowing that his exploits in Troy would mean his physical death but his fame amongst men would be sung for “thousands of years.”

One wonders how the ballad was delivered—in pieces or over a period of days—perhaps in sections by different singers? Caroline Alexander, after a lifetime of her own research into the Homeric epics, argues in The War That Killed Achilles: The True Story of Homer's Iliad and the Trojan War that the work certainly required days to recite, and may have been performed in episodes. The length of the piece suggests the piece was once short enough to be memorized, leaving room for invention and modification as befits the oral tradition.

I wonder now which European language has the most translations, and do they sometimes dare to attempt translations from ancient Greek to, say, French, and then to English? It seems we have enough scholars understanding ancient Greek to give us satisfactory versions without resorting to piggybacked translations. An attempt was made by John Farrell in the Oct 30, 2012 edition of the Los Angeles Review of Books to untangle the English translations and sort them for clarity and poetry. Those of us who love this work will read them all, especially the fascinating introductions to each in which the scholars themselves wax eloquent about what they loved about it. Mitchell's introduction is especially accessible and impelling: I could hardly wait to get to the story.

I have read reviews of people who prefer Lattimore, Fagles, Fitzgerald, or Lombardo translations, and all I can say is I’m not the one to quibble about great works. Daniel Mendelsohn "graded" four translations in the article discussing Mitchell's translation. It must be a curse and a blessing both (for one's self and one’s family both) to understand ancient Greek and to feel the desire to translate Homer. All the questions any editor/translator must address, e.g., spelling, which edition is ‘original,’ more poetry or prose, whether to render the translation literally or by sense…how exhausting the decisions, but how exciting, too.

In the end, whichever edition gives you the greatest access for your first attempt to breach the ramparts of this ancient work is the one to choose for a first read. The other editions will naturally come later, once you have the sense of the story, a few names nailed down, and have that deepening curiosity about the poetry and the beauty.

One last observation is that the men in this epic were mere playthings of the gods, gods that could be cruel, petty, jealous, and vengeful. These gods were helpful to individual men or women insofar as it helped their cause vis à vis other gods. There was striving among men, but most of the time human successes or failures had less to do with who they were than with who they knew. Was it ever thus.