10/2024: There are extremely few works of timeless canonical literature about which I can truly say this. But here it is: I don't really like the Aeneid. Of course, I acknowledge its rightful place. The ideal of pious Aeneas, whose devotion extends beyond personal desires to obedience to divine will, had a profound influence on the Middle Ages. Dante interpreted his influence brilliantly. The poem has great moments of magnificent splendor and intimacy that seem almost real (but watch out for the snide backhanded compliment...). Its artistry in Latin is superb, as everyone says, but I'm not a proficient enough Latinist to understand the poetic sentences clearly. It is the best thing to read to understand Rome, and the fact that it was written to enhance and nourish the spirit of the "imperium aeternum" is spine-chilling. My phrase "epic in a bottle" from my original high school review is quite fitting. But despite all that, I don't like it. Its extreme artifice pales in comparison to the Homeric model. Of course, almost everything pales in comparison to Homer, but Virgil doesn't move me. He's silly, bombastic, and melodramatic. Aeneas is interesting as an ideal, not as a character. Even Dido and Turnus don't leave a deep impression like Homer's Eumaeus and Andromache. In modern terms, it's more like a "novel of ideas." But I grudgingly give it a four-star rating because, let's face it, it's an impressive achievement and one of the cornerstone works of the Western tradition. It can generate a lot of fruitful discussion. I truly wish I could get more enjoyment from it. But there's an off-putting coldness around every work of Roman literature I've read, despite its verbal agility, from Lucretius to Seneca. Let others be the ones to measure the stars indeed.

This time I read the Fagles translation, which has been criticized, and not without reason, for inaccuracy. But it's undeniable that the result is a very striking English, although sometimes a bit awkward. Some of the liberties taken are definitely a stretch in terms of accuracy, but it's a fine achievement in its own right, especially in the gripping battle scenes in the latter half, where Fagles reaches the stride of his incomparable Iliad. Otherwise, I liked the Fitzgerald translation for its patrician nobility, and I have the Mandelbaum translation on my shelf in case the desire ever arises.

4/2019: Few civilizations have had as massive an impact on everyday life as the Roman Empire. Our conceptions of justice, legal rights, the nature of law, republican government (with a small "r", mind you); the structure and depth of our language, the richness of our traditions in poetry and oratory, our ambitious means of public prosperity and civil service. "Omnēs vīae ad Rōmam dūcit" - this is hardly an exaggeration. Such a tremendous legacy doesn't deserve to be pushed into the annals of force-fed history books, dryly classified as the "greatest ancient empire" and neglected as a figment of a history we don't need to preserve. But how can we know what to do in the future if we don't know how we did in the past? How can we even understand who, why, and where we are today without considering what got us here? The abandonment of history in modern culture is one of the great tragedies of Western thought.
I'm confident that Publius Vergilius Maro fully understood these similar dilemmas that oppressed his nation at a time when the Imperium Aeternum was caught between the fall of free society and the rise of the dictator cult, which would provide years of artificial prosperity before plunging into the depths of decline. The beauty and nobility of the greatest empire to ever exist would never die as long as its citizens remembered its heritage. This is why the great poet created his "epic in a bottle" to float on the waves of time and pass on to future generations. But does Virgil truly justify Roman nationalism and imperialism? Is his protagonist an authentic representation of duty and character? How is his epic a valuable lesson not only about the nature and significance of the Roman model but also about the world we inherit today? We will look at a few of these questions here.
To call the Aeneid "fan fiction" or a blatant ripoff of Homer is to fundamentally misunderstand its purpose. Homer was one of the greatest artists to grace the earth, and emulating him was and is considered almost impossible. Do modern composers, writers, and painters try to "copy" or "improve on" Bach, Shakespeare, and Rembrandt? To Virgil, Rome was the best at almost everything. But even he was humble enough to admit that Rome must leave art to other civilizations. His epic is a reimagining of the great Greek poet's ideas to fit the Roman agenda. It's useless to ask whether it rivals Homer because we all know the answer. When our favorite writer releases a new novel, we don't immediately disgrace him by saying, "Yeah, it's good, but it's not nearly as good as Tolstoy and Dickens!" This obviously doesn't mean that the new work isn't a great work of art in itself.
Now, about the language. The immense craftsmanship that went into this epic is evident when reading it in the original language (as I was privileged to do). The word choice is almost obsessive, the prosody is sumptuous, and the rhetorical flourishes and connotations are rich and evocative. This Latin is true poetry, the mark of an unusually gifted artist. When someone struggles so much with words to devote his entire work to their proper arrangement, one can't help but tip one's cap.
Aeneas, obviously, is supposed to be a likable hero. But that doesn't mean that Virgil doesn't include some sympathetic characters on the "other side" - a masterful touch of Homeric psychology. Chief among them is Dido, one of the most sympathetic characters in ancient literature, yet who simply doesn't fit into Virgil's worldview. In many ways, Aeneas is the opposite of the reckless Greek heroic ethic glorified in the Iliad and Odyssey. He is calm, collected, resourceful, and most importantly, dutiful to his destiny. Yet he seems cardboard compared to the great Homeric figures, and his surrounding cast tends to be more human and appreciable to the discerning reader (is anyone really "cheering" for Aeneas to leave Dido and pursue his fortunes?). But what Virgil never bothers to do is define that destiny that pervades his entire work.
To the poet, Rome's mission was to subjugate the foolish, conquer the conquerable, cultivate the uncivilized, and use any means necessary to assist in advancing the "Lux Mundī" that was the Imperium sine Finē. But when one's ultimate moral standard is based on something tangible like a country, that ends up being quite problematic. Turnus is portrayed just as artificially as the hero, and although the ending scene may be unsatisfactory, it leaves no doubt as to Virgil's opinions on the all-important Rome. Turnus represents fruitless furor, while Pius Pater Aeneas is loyal to whatever the Parcae volvunt, driven on by fātis nūminis and oppressed by saevae memōrem Iunōnis ob īram. Aeneas is the model that Virgil must use to glorify an empire's passions while disregarding what natural human law would say is right.
Nationalism has been a constant scourge of society. It has led to countless wars too horrible to describe, to the justification of evil to promote questionable values, and to a citizenry ignorant of their foundations and eager to spread arbitrary ideas at the expense of knowledge. Augustine had it right in his City of God: Rome fell because it glorified selfish ideals of domination and expansionism. These nationalistic harbingers allowed their society's profound positive influence to fade into the dusk and fall into extreme immorality, apathy, and ignorance. They lived as if they were at the very end of history instead of looking to their past for enlightenment. They sought personal pleasure and senseless hedonism instead of true and beautiful pursuits. Their collapse at the hands of the barbarians was just a symbolic fall since Rome had already fallen in essence centuries earlier.
We can assume that Virgil would be horrified to learn of the outcome of his Imperium Aeternum. He can be seen as a champion of hope for his already-flailing country. But little did he know that the very ideas he spread so eagerly, the ideas of imperialism, force, and blind "duty" to an impersonal fate, would be so manipulated by Augustus and his successors. Grasping for promise, Virgil settled on the dictatorship as the spirit of the era. He did nothing but contribute to that growing sentiment which would, in turn, bring down the greatest empire that ever existed. His Aeneid provides no justification for nationalism. His "epic in a bottle" spread destructive messages to the future but also gives invaluable insights into our own past. The lessons we should learn from Rome are urgent and timely.
The Aeneid as a work of art is glorious. The first half has everything wonderful about classical art: adventure, war, tragic passions, conflicts, and epic scope. The second half stumbles as Virgil tries vainly to justify his philosophy. The "epic in a bottle" is 200 pages slimmer than the Homeric giants and has half the number of books. It is clear, engaging, and often falls flat. But we read the Aeneid to appreciate its place in the artistic canon. We ponder and digest the wealth of ideas its master infused into it, and we learn from the worldviews of history. We are deeply proud of our roots and confident that we can single-handedly resist the inevitable consequences of our actions. It's not too late to change the course we're on; a lesson that Rome learned too late. Rome may have fallen, but Virgil's "epic in a bottle" carries us forward through the ages, containing the beauty and horror of the Imperium Aeternum.

First time rereading since college over ten years ago,

and I have found that I enjoyed it far more than I did then.

This epic is so profound that I'll definitely need a good guide to do anything more than just scratch the surface.

However, one thing that is clear to me is why the early church fathers and Dante held Virgil in such high esteem.

The gospel images in the work are unmistakable.

For example, the exiles' search for their promised land and the bridegroom's fight for his bride are powerful and evocative.

Regarding the translation, I have to say that the Mandelbaum translation flows very nicely.

It has also been recommended by people I trust, which gives me more confidence in using it for my further exploration of this classic work.

(The Literary Life Podcast 2024 Reading Challenge – The Ancients)

The Aeneid is a remarkable epic that continues the narrative after the Greeks conquered Troy. It chronicles the journey of Aeneas, a Trojan hero who witnessed the destruction of his city and king by the Trojan Horse, a clever stratagem devised by Ulysses. After losing all hope, Aeneas regains his strength through a divine promise of founding a new nation. He takes his family and follows the guidance of the gods.

New characters are introduced, such as Dido, the queen of Carthage, who helps the wandering Trojans. However, their relationship turns tragic when Aeneas leaves her to fulfill his destiny. Book IV, which讲述了他们的爱情故事, is one of the author's favorites, despite its brevity. The few lines描绘了这段浪漫的爱情, yet it is enough to captivate the reader.

Book VI is another highlight and is considered the center of the poem. It讲述了Aeneas的冥界之旅, guided by the Cumaean Sybil. This book has had a significant influence on the history of literature, as seen in Dante's Divine Comedy. The similarities between the two works are striking, and it is easy to understand why Dante chose Virgil as his guide.

The Aeneid also makes connections to other works, such as the Bible. There are passages in the poem that bear a resemblance to the Pentecost versicles in the Bible. This shows the influence of Virgil's work on Christianity and its merging with earlier cultures.

In conclusion, reading The Aeneid has been a cultivating experience. It is a masterpiece that should not be dismissed as fanfiction. Virgil's meticulous writing and his own contribution to greco-roman culture and mythology make this work a must-read. It is important to distinguish between plagiarism and influence, and The Aeneid is a prime example of the latter.

Cedite, Romani scriptores, cedite Graii;

Nescio quid maius nascitur Iliade.

Ove je reči („sklanjajte se, rimski pisci, sklanjajte se, grčki; rađa se nešto velebnije od Ilijade\\") Propercije uskliknuo kada je pročitao „Eneidu“. Ja ništa manje nisam bio uzbuđeniji. Štaviše, nijedno me delo nije ovako raspomamilo posle čitanja Bijesni Rolando pre četiri godine. Doduše, sada sam pred sobom imao četiri prevoda, među kojima je razlika od „tričavih“ 107 godina“.

The oldest translation by Dr. Nikola Vulić from 1907 is prosaic, as the translator did not intend to write Virgil's hexameter verses, which are not rhymed, of course, in a verse form, but did it as a prose text (similar to what Iso Kršnjavi did with the translation of Dante's Divine Comedy, which is approximately contemporary to this Vulić's translation). The newest translation by Prof. Marjana Pakiž from 2014 is in a meter that is almost identical to the original (about the translation itself and the wealth of interesting details, the professor spoke in a program on RTS2, broadcast in February 2015, which can be listened to on this page: https://www.rts.rs/page/radio/sr/stor...). Both translations are supported by a wealth of explanations below the text itself, as well as an index at the end of the book, and are very similar – which means that Dr. Vulić's translation is so good that even after 114 years it is fresh and clear (if we exclude the orthography that has, in the meantime, become outdated). The Croatian translation by the famous Dr. Bratoljub Klaić from 1970 is richly poetic, quite free in places, and in the last two songs even rhymed! He supported this with his translator's freedom and justified that the beauty of the epic was not thereby damaged. I ecstatically enjoyed all three translations, frantically reading them in parallel and writing down the differences. The fourth translation by Mladen Atanasijević from 1964 is the weakest for me. Also, there is not a single comment on the verses, which is, when it comes to antiquity, a big omission. Since the worldviews of modern readers and ancient listeners are quite different.

Well, everything that makes me happy, rationalizes, and sweetly torments me while reading is contained in the „Aeneid“ (and in ancient works in general, as well as in medieval ones): the absence of an excessive description of the physical appearance of the characters themselves (except for their military clothing or equipment), so that everyone who reads will have a different imagined character (which is phenomenal), the abundance of references to previous works and the mention of known characters from there without any explanation (today this would be considered plagiarism), which forces the reader to further research, read, and think (in my case, there are open books all over the table plus maps necessarily), the abundance of mythology that is an integral part of that world and the very way of storytelling that is derived from oral singing or story, which I highly value.

The „Aeneid“ can be said to be a continuation of Homer's „Odyssey“ (i.e., what happened after the fall of Troy), since Aeneas, the one about whom the poet sings, is already known from there. Ergo, the son of Venus (Aphrodite) and the shepherd Anchises. Loved by Jupiter, Apollo, Neptune, Cybele, and many others, but a thorn in the eye of Juno, always jealous, both of Jupiter (who is her sister and husband) and his promiscuous episodes, and of mortals who do the same in the upper world. Hounded by fury because of Jupiter's prophecy that one of the Teucrians, of the Dardanian clan, will come to Italy to plant the Trojan seed there, she will do everything to divert the course of that prophecy and Aeneas' fate to Libya. This is how the first part of the epic begins, in a storm at sea, incited by Juno's fury, which she will support with Aeolus' winds and which Neptune will calm, soothing the waves that had shattered a large part of Aeneas' fleet on the reef. Seven years have passed since the fall of Troy and they have wandered the seas and finally arrived at Carthage, which was just being built under Dido's rule. From the beginning, until the last song, Aeneas' mother Venus will constantly intervene in disagreements and oppose the furious Juno, protecting (as in the Trojan War) her son from the goddess' wrath. In this she will often succeed, and even do a service to her son. One such way – by turning to Amor to support the love between Dido and Aeneas – has made a turn that will determine the further course of the epic. This song is the most lyrical and, practically, an ancient love story and the lament of the abandoned woman who takes her own life in the agony of love's sorrows. However, Aeneas' male flight under the cover of night can be justified by a higher goal – Jupiter has sent him a message through Mercury that his fate is not to found a city in Carthage, but to found a new city in Latium, which ends the first part of the poem. It is simply impossible not to draw a parallel here between Tolkien's Turin and Aeneas: both are favorites of the gods, both were outcasts in one part of their lives, both the gods send signs and give weapons, and both are assigned the role of hero of the nation (tribe).

The second part of the poem is a reflection of the „Iliad“ and Virgil hints at this right at the beginning with a new invocation of the muse (which he will do again in the second half of the second part, when he will hyperbolically describe the battles), thus opening Aeneas' arrival at the court of King Latinus, to whom the protector Faun has prophesied that his son-in-law will be someone from outside his clan. Indeed, as in the „Iliad“, here too the cause of the war is a beautiful woman – Lavinia, the daughter of King Latinus, who is a hint throughout the epic, veiled, only opened when tears flow after the strong men have perished. There are also countless and overwhelming descriptions by Virgil of armor, weapons, horses, and the postures of soldiers who move in battle and the bloody battles that will then take place for the defense/conquest of the given territory, until Aeneas „with a sword of fury all drawn, strikes straight at Turnus' heart. And the cold shadow of death falls on him, with a heavy sigh his soul unwillingly sinks among the shades.“

My subjective opinion is that the first part of the epic is more luxurious, more dreamy, more dynamic, more diverse, and more interesting than the second, primarily because of the Roman mythology that is alive, taking place in situ, before the eyes of the reader, and practically and plausibly portrays what is in some other mythologies told quite differently. In addition to the deities, the first part of the poem also abounds in other, „auxiliary“ mythological beings and depictions, as Aeneas in Dido's court tells at length their odyssey from Troy to Sicily, from where Aeolus' wind has brought them to Carthage. Also, the original descriptions of the rituals during the sacrifice to the deities in order to hear a prayer are vividly depicted (for those who can recognize them), as well as the entire course of the ceremony around the sacrificial victim, as well as numerous miracles that happen around them and in other holy places. The sixth song is entirely dedicated to Aeneas' descent into Tartarus and Dante will quote and use these motifs in several places in his „Inferno“ (after all, it is not by chance that Virgil was chosen to be his guide through hell and part of purgatory).

In general, since I had a brief encounter with the „Aeneid“ in high school 21 years ago, and since then, I don't know how, I have pushed it into some corner of my memory and it has emerged from there while reading Apostol samoće – biographical texts about Isidora Sekulić, where it is mentioned in several places how much she loved Virgil and Propertius, there was no dilemma that I had to return to the „Aeneid“. It is an understatement to say that I enjoyed it – these states that I have only experienced a few times while reading some work (Silmarilion, The Mabinogion, Bijesni Rolando, and even Gormenghast) are pure ecstasy into which a prophet or prophetess enters before „establishing“ a connection with the other side. And despite all the difficulties that such a work carries, and which requires complete and undisturbed concentration and additional research and reading from other works (which for me is always a sign of a good book), I recommend it to everyone who liked the „Odyssey“ or the „Iliad“ even a little.

I loved every single moment of this literary work. The vivid imagery completely captured my imagination. It has been quite some time since I have been so fully engaged with a piece of writing!

Although the work doesn't reach its absolute peak in Book II, I firmly believe that this was my favorite chapter. For me, it was the pinnacle of poetry and imagery. It hooked me right from the start and held my attention until the very end. I'm not entirely sure if I can precisely put into words what it was that I found so incredibly effective. Maybe it was the contrast that accentuated the tragedy, which I found deeply touching? Or perhaps it was the way he used just the right amount of description to engage the imagination. Sometimes I find that the more an author describes something, the more difficult it becomes for me to envision it. Virgil was the perfect match for me in this regard, avoiding excessive verbosity and wording things in a way that was, well, simply perfect (part of the credit here must also go to the translator, Robert Fagles).

I also thought that, in contrast to Homer's works, the characters in this had a complexity that made them more appealing to this modern reader.

The Aeneid was one of C.S. Lewis's favorites, and I think he sums it up beautifully: the reader is carried away by “the enormous onward pressure of the great stream on which you are embarked”, a stream that I fully intend to embark on again in the future!

This new translation casts the classic Vergil poem in a fresh modern light.

Let me just say that I have always had a deep love for Greek literature and Greek Mythology. However, unfortunately, I was not overly impressed with this particular story. And this, in turn, I believe, had an impact on my view of the translation. Although I can indeed appreciate Vergil's epic and the profound impression it has made upon Western literature, to be honest, I wasn't really entertained by this translation. In my opinion, it failed to offer anything new to the classic story and simply felt rather bland. What more can I say?

I can understand the sense of intellectual stimulation it provides while I'm reading, but when it comes to actual enjoyment, it just didn't do it for me.

Big thank you to Random House for sending me an ARC copy of this book! It's always interesting to explore new translations of classic works, even if they don't always meet our expectations. Maybe with further study and reflection, I'll be able to see more of the merits in this particular translation.

“Audentes fortuna iuvat.”

“Even so far away
Great valor has due honor; they weep here
For how the world goes, and our life that passes
Touches their hearts. Throw off your fear. This fame
Insures some kind of refuge.” - From Book 1

Finally, I have completed a literary project I set for myself. In December 2017, I decided to read The Iliad, The Odyssey, and The Aeneid. I'm glad I took my time with these three epic poems. I had interesting feelings about all of them. Among the three, I think The Iliad was the best, although I had my criticisms. I really feel The Odyssey is overrated and has one of the most unlikable protagonists in literature. However, The Aeneid is my personal favorite, even if The Iliad was objectively better.

There's a lot to talk about with this poem. It's propaganda, fan-fiction, and a cliff notes history, yet it's something special in its own right. The author, Virgil, was a real man, not a legendary composite like Homer. It's interesting to see how the virtues of Mycenae Greece compared to the era of Rome's first Emperor Caesar Augustus. Although I'm not going to praise the "virtues" of an imperialist, reactionary, slave-society like Rome, it was still 1000x better than Mycenae Greece. This means that although the action of The Iliad and The Aeneid takes place around the same time, they reflect different standards, cultures, virtues, and histories.

“In war there's no salvation.” - From Book 11.

In the 20th book of The Iliad, it is prophesized that Aeneas would survive the Trojan War and possibly move back to the land of his Trojan forefathers in Italy. This was all Virgil needed to set this story. He, along with other poets of Caesar Augustus' reign, had been commissioned to make propaganda legitimizing the empire and Augustus himself. Virgil went one step further and created a national epic that glorified not just the Empire but Italy as a whole. When we reach the middle of this poem (Book 6), time breaks down as we see into the "future" as much as we look at the past and present. This poem attempts to explain the history of Rome up until 19 B.C. Even when the history of Rome and the Julii family is not being foretold, we have allusions to all the major figures of Rome in this poem. The justifications of the Punic Wars and the triumph of the Julii clan in the civil wars are all laid out in this poem. Of course, this includes the story of Dido and the setup of the Punic Wars. Dido is Virgil's analogue of Calypso, Nausicaa, and Circe wrapped up into one and may be the most memorable character of the book.

Dido's Lament by Jessye Norman

Now, to give my impressions. Part of the special connection I have with this poem is that I first read excerpts of it a few months after the death of my grandfather while I was in my last semester of university. Coming to Book 2 (the Fall of Troy) and the scenes with Aeneas and his father (and wife) always fills my heart with grief. Another thing I really appreciate about this poem is how much better women are treated in it compared to Homer. Although this poem is not a proto-feminist tract (slavery and misogyny still exist), it is WAY better than Homer in the way women are treated. In Homer, if you're a woman who's not a Goddess, you're treated equally to livestock. The women of the Trojan court get some good scenes, especially Hector's wife Andromache, but the poem makes it clear that a woman who asserts any agency is a bad thing (unless she's a goddess in disguise). We won't even mention The Odyssey's handling of women. It's only with Virgil that we see some reprieve from this ultra-misogyny. Virgil uses more female characters not just as cross-dressing Goddesses but as regular women and, most importantly for me, as openly-female warriors. The poem's main antagonist is Juno/Hera, and she is opposed not just by Jupiter/Zeus but by Aeneas' goddess mother Venus/Aphrodite. Venus serves Aeneas and the Trojans in the same way Minerva served the Acheans and Odysseus/Ulysses. Minerva makes a small cameo appearance, but is mostly absent. Juno, though, is fully present, trying to stop Aeneas from establishing Rome and laying the seeds for the Roman Empire. We have Dido and Carthage, which is important, but for me, the best female character and possibly my favorite of this poem is Camilla of Volsci. She is a character modeled on the Amazons, a strict devotee of Diana/Artemis, and the commander of the cavalry that makes up the final effort to resist Aeneas' establishment in Italy. Just look at how she is introduced:

“Besides all these
Camilla of the Volscian people came,
Riding ahead of cavalry, her squadrons
Gallant in bronze. A warrior girl whose hands
Were never deft at distaff or wool basket,
Skills of Minerva, she was hard and trained
To take the shock of war, or to outrace
The winds in running. If she ran full speed
Over the tips of grain unharvested
She would not ever have bruised an ear, or else
She might have sprinted on the deep sea swell
And never dipped her flying feet. To see her,
Men and women pouring from the fields,
From houses, thronged her passage way and stared
Wide-eyed with admiration at the style
Of royal purple, robing her smooth shoulders,
Then at the brooch that bound her hair in gold,
Then at the Lycian quiver that she bore
And shepherd’s myrtle staff, pointed with steel.”

Like I said, she's badass. She gets some of the best combat scenes in the poem besides Aeneas, Pallas, and Turnus. While her time in the poem is relatively brief, it is memorable. This type of character could not exist in Homer, but I'm glad Virgil created her for this poem. She is treated in surprisingly respectful ways given the time this poem was written.

Aeneas is presented as ultra-pious and noble. He loves his family, he loves Dido, but he is the embodiment of Roman pietas and his duty to the Gods overrules all his other wants and desires. It's hard to distinguish where the propaganda begins and ends. The way war is treated here is more ambiguous than in Homer. I guess the context of Caesar Augustus wanting to stress a covert-peace policy for his regime and the fact that the Battle of Actium was not that long before this poem was written contributes to the tone of this work.

In the end, this poem is as good as you'll get with Roman literature. It's one of the great epic poems of world literature, and I can see the place it holds in Italian and European literature. I'm not going to be reading this over and over, but I'm glad I have read it.

➳ 3.75 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

╰┈➤ ”Do the gods light this fire in our hearts or does each man's mad desire become his god?”

Dido, my queen

WOAH. Roman literature has long been regarded as derivative of Greek literature. However, Virgil is truly in a class of his own. Robert Fagles' translation of the Aeneid is an absolute masterpiece. It is the single most stunning and powerful book I have ever read from the classical era. The sense of focus in this work is incredible, and the intensity of some of the scenes is simply jaw-dropping. Literally! The description of the fall of Troy is vivid and heart-wrenching. Dido's bitter recrimination against Aeneas is both powerful and poignant. The little moments of average people mourning the loss of their children in battle add a touch of humanity to the epic. And the stunning dream sequence when the future lineage of Rome is revealed is truly breathtaking. Each section of the Aeneid is replete with searingly brilliant imagery. I would go so far as to say that Virgil outdoes Homer. He takes the epic of national identity and makes it personal, making it a truly heartrending story. This book is 2000 years old, yet it is still damn near impossible to put down. Fagles was an absolute, bona fide master of the art of translation. His renderings of classical works are more dramatic and alive than anything else available in modern English. I cannot recommend this book highly enough.

This is mainly a review of a translation rather than a narrative of the epic poem.

I reread this epic poem with the GR group Non-Fiction Side Reads. I read two editions: the Penguin edition translated by Robert Fagles and the Macmillan edition translated by Rolfe Humphries. It was like comparing apples and oranges, but I did it to see if I really liked the Humphries text that I had read twice before. My answer: Probably not. I generally prefer the Fagles.

What I like about the Fagles translation:

1. The introduction by Bernard Knox, who wrote The Norton Book of Classical Literature and was the first director of the Center for Hellenic Studies.

2. Fagles did his best to translate a dead language, trying to merge the ancient and modern worldviews.

3. The few metaphors that Virgil employs, which are more later in the text, Fagles translates in evocative language, sometimes eliciting an emotional response from me.

4. Fagles portrays the women dramatically when appropriate, but never as caricatures. The drama expressed by some of the women, especially Latin Queen Amata, gets a bit extreme, yet Fagles does not laugh. He makes me stunned and concerned.

What I dislike about the explanatory notes:

1. The notes are at the back of the text, which is fine, but I prefer footnotes at the back of chapters or at the bottom of the page. It's an older and more traditional style.

2. The notes are not indicated within the body of the text, so there's no way to know if there's a note attached to the text. If the notes were placed at the back of each Book, the reader could notate as they began to read each Book. If they were at the bottom of the page, it would be even easier for the reader.

Textual Comments:

1. This epic is a problematic one where the hero is neither an Achilles nor an Odysseus. Yet his mission is fate-determined and emotionally difficult. As I read Fagles' translation, I get a solid sense of the difficulties of Aeneas.

2. A group reading buddy suggested an article from The New Yorker: "Is The Aeneid a celebration or critique of empire?"

Overall, this book is translated and organized for experienced readers of ancient literature or experienced readers of The Aeneid.

Reading Plans: If I were to ever reread The Aeneid, I would be satisfied with this edition. If I were to want to read or reread some of Aeschylus's plays, I would like to read Fagles' translation of the Oresteia plays.

- Another of the great classics.

- Spanish edition (1999).

- What it tells us. The book "The Aeneid" (original publication: Aeneis, late 1st century BC) is a literary recreation of the myth of the founding of Rome. It was originally written in poetic form and has been translated into both prose and verse (this particular edition is in prose). It focuses on the Trojan hero Aeneas who, along with other survivors of the defeated city, embarks on a journey in search of a new home.

- Do you want to know more about this book, without spoilers? Visit:

- http://librosdeolethros.blogspot.com/...

This classic work of literature, "The Aeneid," has endured through the ages. It not only offers a captivating story but also provides insights into the ancient Roman culture and values. The character of Aeneas is a complex and heroic figure, facing numerous challenges and obstacles on his arduous journey. His determination and leadership inspire those around him, making him a symbol of hope and perseverance. Whether you are a history buff or simply a lover of great literature, "The Aeneid" is a must-read. So, don't hesitate to explore this fascinating world and discover the secrets and wonders it holds.

Earlier this year, after reading Broch's The Death of Virgil, I had a strong urge to read The Aeneid. Since I never studied Latin III where the original would have been read, this was my first encounter with it. I'm truly glad I did. I don't believe I would have been able to fully appreciate its richness, creativity, and psychological depth years ago.

The story is straightforward: Aeneas escapes Troy after the Trojan War and, along with his companions, searches for a new land to settle in Italy. However, Juno opposes them, forcing them on a long and arduous voyage until they reach their destination. There, they must fight to claim the land where they will establish their new city.

Yes, it could be considered a propaganda piece, but it is an amazing one! In Book VI, Aeneas travels to the Elysian Fields where his deceased father's shade reveals the glories of the future Rome. The translation was highly readable and vividly evoked the time and place. I particularly liked the use of the present tense to describe the action, which gave it a sense of immediacy. The lengthy introduction by Bernard Knox and the Postscript by the translator, Robert Fagles, were also very valuable. More than just the text itself, I highly recommend all the supplementary material. My favorite parts were Book VI and Book X, which describe the main battle against Latium. I could almost envision Aeneas as the distant ancestor of one of the Roman soldier-heroes in today's Roman military novels. The fighting was indeed as bloody as one would expect. Overall, The Aeneid is an absolute must-read!