I read the Odyssey at Uni and really loved it. A romp off to parts unknown with a man who is good company from a distance. As with much of fiction, the people I am delighted to spend lots of time with on the page are not necessarily those I would want to spend anytime with otherwise.

I’ve always meant to get around to reading this. I mean, this Homer guy only wrote two books and I had enjoyed the other one, so … so, a mere twenty years later (how time flies) I got around to reading this one.

The problem was that I knew exactly what this one was about. You know, this is about Helen getting taken to Troy after Paris wins her after he judges which of the goddesses is the most beautiful which pisses off the Greeks and then there’s the siege and sacking of Troy after that rather clever trick with the wooden horse. Not much point reading this one if you already know the whole damn story.

Now, you might be thinking – this guy should have put a spoiler alert at the start of this. You might also be thinking – this guy probably thinks it’s okay not to put a spoiler alert on this because everyone already knows this story. Umm, I haven’t put a spoiler alert on this because I haven’t told you anything that is actually in this story yet.

Look, I know, I’m as surprised as you are. “Bugger me with a brick”, as a friend of mine would say. The idea Homer could be allowed to get away with writing a book about something everyone knows it is about and not actually writing about any of these things is, to say the least, rather frustrating. I’m sure that in some countries there is probably even a law against this sort of thing.

It might just be me, but I would have thought that if you are going to write the FIRST epic in the Western Literary Tradition it does seem somewhat presumptuous to assume people know the back story. I know I can be naïve at times, but if first is to mean anything, surely it doesn’t really allow the writer to assume everyone already knows the back story. Instead, this book starts a mere 9 years after the war had began. There is precious little by way of explaining how we got here. And it ends the day before the final battle for Troy and before anyone seems to have come up with the idea of a wooden horse with a hollow middle.

Spoilers start more or less now – if you are worried.

A lot of this is boys’ own adventure stuff. Also a bit like the Godfather films in which they seem to have decided not to kill any two major characters in exactly the same way. Bronze swords knocking out teeth before plunging through skull with attendant buckets of blood and spraying brain matter plays, be well assured, a large part in this book. If I have any criticism at all it is that the war bits were over-long and after a while became all a bit same/same. In fact, by close to the end I was thinking I had had more than enough and was looking forward to the whole thing being over.

And then that totally unexpected end! Jesus, what a way to finish a book. I was blown away.

Achilles does not really come out of this book looking too good. I know he is meant to be a bit of a hero (the only things I knew about him before this being he had been dipped in a river as a child to protect him from harm and held by the ankles, so therefore these were his only venerable parts – and of course, none of this is actually mentioned here, though I suspect you are meant to already know). The whole book revolves around Achilles being annoyed at having his girlfriend taken from him and him spending most of the time in a petulant rage about to go home, stuck in one of his ships while all hell is breaking lose around him. Hector certainly seems the ‘better man’ in all this – even though he is a Trojan. This was something else I hadn’t expected.

The thing I really like about the Greek Gods – and the reason Plato said that the poets shouldn’t be allowed to write stories about them – is that they are just this huge dysfunctional family. Nothing they like better than getting involved in human affairs and causing infinitely more trouble than they are worth. I also like that even when they know the outcome of something – Troy will fall, for example – that doesn’t stop them remaining loyal and supporting their favourite side all the same. It is as if the West Moorabbin Under Twelves are being put up against Manchester United all stars team and the dads of the under twelves are turning up to support their kids. Everyone knows the outcome, but all the same… “Go Johnny!”

A lot of this is of more than just passing interest in the sense that it gives a fascinating (and tragically realistic) account of the horrors of warfare in the ancient world – and these horrors are many and graphic. Both sides foresee what is to happen to the women of Troy once the battle is over, for example, and this is none-too-pretty. All the same, after book after book of this I was well over these endless descriptions. But then book 24. Hector has been killed. Achilles killed him to revenge the death of his friend Patroclus, who Hector had killed and tried to quarter and feed to the dogs. Achilles is overpowered by grief for his friend and as a mark of respect slaughters 12 boys of Troy as an offering at the funeral of Patroclus (hard to express my disgust at this – not the act of a ‘hero’). He also spends days dragging Hector’s body about (ironically enough, attached to his chariot by the ankles) around the funeral site of his friend in some sort of bizarre ritual that is neither improved in report nor in deed, I think the line ran). I had never really thought about the significance of bodies after they have died in war – but psychologically, knowing (or worse, as in this case, not knowing, but assuming) what the enemy are doing to the dead body of your child, is, without question, unspeakably horrible.

To regain his son’s body and to give it a proper funeral, Priam goes to Achilles and is helped there by the gods. He kisses the hand of his son’s murderer and begs for his body so as to be able to give him a proper funeral. Like I said, a remarkably moving end to the poem.

I used to think that a good definition of a classic would be ‘a book that is rarely about what you think it is about before you read it’. As always, I was much too timid in my definition. It seems that a classic is NEVER about what you think it will be about before you read it. If they are particularly good classics, they are also not about what you think they were about while you were reading them either. This is an excellent case in point.

Reread before I jump into the new translation by Emily Wilson, to prepare for my upcoming novel about the messenger goddess, Iris.

nasıl anlatsam, nerden başlasam, mmm.

öncelikle şunu söyleyeyim: bu kitapta neler oluyor, kim ölüyor kim kalıyor, kim ne tanrısı... bunların hiçbir önemi yok ve ben de bunu anlatmayacağım zaten. bunların hepsine özet formunda erişmek çok kolay ve kimsenin ilyada'yla ilgili yorum olarak bunu dinlemek istediğini sanmıyorum. üstelik ilyada'nın olayı da bu değil.

ilyada'nın olayı şu: yaklaşık üç bin önce yazılmış bir şeyin, ondan sonra yazılmış her şeyden ileride olması. adam (homeros'a adam dedim hfdkgjh) milattan önce 800'de varoluşumuzun özünü anlamış, anlatmış, ne kadar insani duygu varsa hepsini yaşatmış. inanamadım okurken. yani bir savaş sahnesindeki coşkuyu da, sevdiği birinin ölüm haberini alınca yaşanan kederi de, aşkı da, kıskançlığı da, pişmanlığı da... her şeyi yazmış, HER ŞEYİ. dolayısıyla ilyada okumaya niyetlenirken derdimiz fakültenin karşısındaki kırtasiyeden mitoloji 101 ders notları fotokopisini almak değil, çok daha duygusal, insani bir yerden, üç bin yıl önceki insanlardan aslında pek de farklı olmadığımızı idrak etmek olmalı diye düşünüyorum ben. ve bir açıdan bakınca da bunun üzerine çok az şey koymuşuz insanlık olarak. edebiyattan, sanattan, her şeyden beklentim yükseldi ilyada okuyunca. dengem bozuldu, ama iyi bir yönde.

bir diğer değinmem gereken şey de şu: azra erhat ve a. kadir'in varlığına ne kadar şükretsek az. hele ki birçok konuda dezavantajlı bir coğrafyada yaşadığımızı düşününce bu işi böyle tutkuyla sevip nesillerce okur için böyle bir çeviri yapmak, böyle bir eser bırakmak... diyecek, övecek kelime bulamıyorum, sonsuz hayranlıkları hak ediyorlar. metnin güzelliğinden zerre götürmedikleri gibi daha da güzelleştirmişler. o ritmli şiirsellik olduğu gibi duruyor.

kitabı bir ayda, hiç acele etmeden, iki ayrı mitoloji sözlüğüne bakarak, tadını çıkara çıkara okudum. ve sık sık şunu düşündüm: şimdiye kadar gezdiğim tüm antik kentleri, tüm avrupa şehirlerini, müzeleri baştan gezmem gerek. hiçbir şey anlamamışım. dünyayı algılama şeklimi değiştirdi homeros. iyi ki iyi ki iyi ki. (ağlıyor)

Am I really going to bother reviewing Homer’s _Iliad_? I mean, what am I going to say that hasn’t been said by generations of scholars, reviewers or readers? Does another drop in the ocean matter? Well, even if it doesn’t I’ll give it a go I guess. Reading the _Iliad_ was mostly done by me as a correction to a perceived gap in my education. I had always known bits and pieces about the poem and its heroes from various sources and the culture in general, but I had never read the poem itself. Given that it is a foundational text (perhaps *the* foundational text along with its sister epic The Odyssey) of the western canon it’s a pretty big gap. Well, I did it! I found myself both compelled and, I will admit it, sometimes bored by the text (though mostly only when we came upon the epic tradition of having the lineage of each character spelled out in gruesome detail before said hero was gruesomely despatched by an enemy’s spear thrust). Still, once I made it through Book II’s interminable catalogue of the Achaean heroes who came to Troy along with the number of ships and men they brought with them I knew that nothing could stop me.

My biggest surprise was probably the way in which the heroes, all seemingly spawned by gods, are not all that unlike superheroes in a comic book: forces of raw destruction whose primary wish is for glory and the mad rush of violence and battle. And yet even these great figures pale next to the gods who play them like puppets on a string watching events unfold before them and giving a nudge here and there when the outcome for their favored side is in doubt (indeed, for me some of the most humourous moments came about when a god would unceremoniously pluck a warrior from the ground and punt him into the distance in order to keep him safe like some giant hand in a gamer’s favourite RTS strategy game). It was these images and analogies, inadequate as they may seem, that kept springing to mind for me as I read of the epic battle between the Achaeans and the Trojans. It was, in that sense at least, a surprisingly modern text for me.

The poem is chock-full, on both sides of the conflict, of men who are larger than life. Of course the great exemplars of each side, Achilles and Hector, stand heads and shoulders above the rest, but both armies are lousy with seeming giants whose every action in battle is a superhuman carnage fest; the roll call of the Achaeans alone is impressive: wily Odysseus, prideful Agamemnon, wise Nestor, courageous Diomedes, and both the Greater and the Lesser Ajax. Of course, if you’re not a hero and don’t boast either a god or at least a royal personage in your near lineage, then you’re really just spear fodder whose primary purpose is to allow the real fighters to show off their skill in the art of death-dealing. Indeed fighting is all about the individual fighter's glory and his desire for booty...stripping the corpses is more important than pursuing a tactical advantage. Ego is all. This is a frightening vision of what a world of superheroes might look like with the lowly peons at the whim of their violence and glory-seeking. The boast and the taunt are also on full display. Each hero seeks to undermine his opponent with a war of words before the spear has even left his hand. Lineages are vaunted, or disparaged; deeds are proclaimed, or ridiculed; most of all threats are made and reciprocated. Old Spidey of the glib tongue has nothing on these guys. (“I too could battle the deathless gods with words — it's hard with a spear, the gods are so much stronger. Not even Achilles can bring off all his boasts…” – Hector)

The violence in the poem is explicit and all-pervasive, a veritable orgy of death and dismemberment. From the brains splattered inside helmets by a spear’s intrusion, to the “lethal hit that’s loosed [a body’s] springy limbs”, we are constantly presented with a panoply of violence that brings down the mists of death, a “dark [that] came whirling down across [their] eyes”, upon the stricken warriors. Homer was apparently no prude and was happy to indulge his audience’s apparent appetite for such scenes. The battle scenes are also truly cinematic, both in their colourful gore and in the superhuman skill displayed by the combatants, as foe after foe is handily dispatched in an almost balletic whirl of pure violence. Achilles is perhaps the most conspicuous in this, no more so than when he at last enters the fray near the end of the poem, maddened at the death of his friend Patroclus, and fells Trojans left and right:

Achilles now like inhuman fire raging on through the mountain gorges splinter-dry, setting ablaze big stands of timber, the wind swirling the huge fireball left and right — chaos of fire — Achilles storming on with brandished spear like a frenzied god of battle trampling all he killed and the earth ran black with blood.…so as the great Achilles rampaged on, his sharp-hoofed stallions trampled shields and corpses, axle under his chariot splashed with blood, blood on the handrails sweeping round the car, sprays of blood shooting up from the stallions' hoofs and churning, whirling rims — and the son of Peleus charioteering on to seize his glory, bloody filth splattering both strong arms, Achilles' invincible arms

Indeed the rage of Achilles is a primal thing. The seemingly excessive violence of his comrades and their enemies prior to his entering the fray is made to seem a pale, simpering thing in comparison. Achilles is a whirl of bloodlust, hatred and retribution whose only aim is the eradication of the Trojans and their great prince Hector as payment for the death of his old friend.

Despite the great power that each of these heroes displays, it is not necessarily an altogether innate function of the hero’s mighty thews and prowess alone, for it is made evident throughout the text that the real perquisite for success is the blessing of a god, regardless of the native power and skill of the individual fighter. The gods seem at first content to mostly sit on the sidelines, restricting themselves to aiding and abetting their favourite hero with a nudge here and a push there until, with the advent of Achilles and his killing rage, even Zeus fears that the outcome of the battle may change and the decrees of fate may be unbalanced by a mere mortal. He then lets the gods loose and they fight for their chosen sides in a free-for-all that is impressive in its violence and imagery where one telling things comes immediately to the fore: the gods are much less interested in maintaining the balance of fate for the betterment of the cosmos than they are at using this excuse to fight their own grudge matches against perceived and real slights from their divine rivals.

In many ways the gods are perhaps even more prevalent in the battle for Troy than are the human participants. This is fitting given the fact that a contest amongst the major goddesses, and the perceived slight of its result by the losers, were the direct antecedents to the war that would destroy a civilization. I’m not sure how Paris could have judged the beauty contest between Aphrodite, Athena and Hera in a way that wouldn’t have ended in bloodshed and mass genocide, but he certainly didn’t try very hard once the goddess of love dangled the prospect of Menelaus’ beauteous wife before him. This picking of love above worldly authority or wisdom and supremacy in war may seem like a purely pacific and even noble choice, but it often seems that even love as expressed in _The Iliad_ appears to be a fundamentally selfish thing. Helen, the human paradigm of beauty, and her divine patron Aphrodite, are both interested in ‘love’ not as something that expresses affection or devotion to another, but rather something that glorifies the self. Helen’s beauty is a great power and she uses it to glorify her own position. She deserts her husband and child for Paris and even this ‘love’ seems to be more a reflection of her own egoism and an expression of her power over him than any sort of true affection for the son of Priam. That being said there is one set of relationships that seem to look beyond the demands of heroic culture and the vanity of the self: these are primarily seen in the quiet moments of humanity in Hector’s love for his wife and child (and really for all of his family, even spoiled bratty Paris, and for Troy itself). One could also point to the love of Priam for his dead son, and the need to redeem his mutilated corpse at any cost (even unto walking into the enemy camp with only a servant and a cart full of booty), as another example of the love of others overcoming the love of self.

There were a plethora of great moments in the poem, but this review is already getting overlong, so allow me to simply name the ones that immediately spring to mind: the night raid of Diomedes and Odysseus into the Trojan lines, the lone stand and battle cry of Odysseus after the Achaeans run in terror from pursuing Trojan warriors, the coming ashore of the Nereids at the bidding of Thetis to comfort Achilles, Athena’s arming with the storm-shield of Zeus, the gathering of the Rivers in Olympus, Hephaestus boiling a river god in his own bed in defence of Achilles, and the empowerment of Achilles before his death-dealing drive amongst the Trojans to name but a few. In the end this was a greatly entertaining read that surprised me in many ways. Of course, it wasn’t all dismemberment and bloody glory, there was human suffering and despair (both at the hands of the ‘heroes’ and of the gods) and many questions raised about freewill versus one’s fate (Fate seems to have the deck stacked in his favour). I was constantly surprised at little touches made by Homer: Zeus being wooed by Hera so she could distract him from aiding the Trojans (in the course of which he enumerates the allures of his former lovers as part of his seduction strategy…what a charmer!); Hector deciding to leave his men to face death alone in a tight moment and the twin episode of Hector’s very real fear of death, such a great fear that he actually runs away from Achilles in panic before deciding to face his fate (not exactly the inhuman hero I was expecting to see); Agamemnon showing himself to be a blustering politician, attempting to save face and excuse himself at the same time as he tries to apologize to Achilles. The fact that the poem both begins and ends in medias res may leave some modern readers a bit baffled (we enter the fray ten years after the war’s inception and leave with the city of Troy still standing), but it truly is a tour de force of the poet’s art. Whether Homer was one man or many, whether he composed it primarily from an amalgam of the existing tradition of epic poetic devices or it came primarily from the mind of a genius it is a work that does stand the test of time and is well worth the time of any reader (or listener) ancient or modern.

n  n
نبرد معروف آخیلس و هکتور منقوش بر کوزه ای قدیمی؛ در زیر پای جنگجویان، جسد پتروکلس دوست آخیلس افتاده است

ایلیاد، سروده ی هومر، معروف ترین حماسه سرای یونانه که ماجرای جنگی ده ساله بین یونانیان و ایلیون (یا همون تروی) رو بازگو میکنه. بسیاری از اسطوره های یونانی (خدایان ساکن کوه المپ، قهرمانان بزرگ، مثل آخیلس و هکتور و...) رو ما امروزه فقط از طریق این کتاب میشناسیم.

اما چیزی که این حماسه رو برای من که اسطوره شناس یا متخصص ادبیات یونان باستان نیستم، خیلی خیلی درخشان میکنه، سه چیزه: یکی داستان پردازی قدرتمند، دوم شخصیت پردازی استادانه و سوم توصیفات دقیق و گیرا.

داستان پردازی
داستان، بسیار درخشانه. ارتباط علّی و معلولی وقایع با هم دیگه مثل یه ریسمان محکم، کل داستان رو به هم متصل میکنه. هر چیزی علتی داره و حتا دخالت خدایان در جنگ هم تابع انگیزه ها و دلایل داستانیه. همچنین وقایعی که رخ میدن، خیلی زیبا و دراماتیک هستن. حسادت ایزدبانوان و به داوری طلبیدن پاریس، قهر کردن آخیلس و کناره گیری از جنگ، سوگواری آخیلس بر رفیقش و انتقام گرفتنش و...

شخصیت پردازی
شخصیت پردازی، به قدری استادانه است که آدم فکر میکنه داستان در صد ساله ی اخیر نوشته شده، و نه 2800 یا به روایتی 4000 سال قبل. شخصیت ها، تک بعدی نیستن: انسان هستن، هزار بُعد دارن. واکنش هاشون به قدری طبیعیه که آدم فکر میکنه اگه من هم بودم همین کار رو می کردم. حتا خدایان هم از این قاعده مستثنا نیستن. حسادت ایزدبانوان، کاملاً انسانیه. قهر کردن آخیلس کاملاً انسانیه. بی حرمتی آخیلس به جسد هکتور به خاطر شدت خشمش، کاملاً انسانیه. و صدها مثال دیگه.

توصیفات
و نهایتاً، توصیفات بسیار بسیار دقیق و گیرا هستن. توصیفات رزم هاش، به قدری جزئی و پر از ریزه کاری های جذّابه که آدم فکر میکنه هر جنگ رو با الهام از یه جنگ واقعی که خودش شخصاً حضور داشته توصیف کرده. آخیلس زره هکتور رو برانداز میکنه تا نقطه ی ضعفش رو پیدا کنه، مِنِلِس کلاهخود پاریس رو میگیره و میکشه تا با بند کلاهخود، پاریس رو خفه کنه و...

سعی کنید هیچ‌وقت زنِ کسی رو ندزدید.

Magnánima obra de Homero que desarrolla, sobre todo, la Guerra de Troya.
Este libro en cuestión está escrito en prosa.
Me costó mucho su lectura ya que hay unas descripciones muy minuciosas de todos los detalles que implica a una guerra y se me hizo bastante pesada.
Tal vez el hecho de estar escrito en prosa me impidió disfrutarlo más.
Eso no significa que sea un libro malo, sino que es una cuestión de sensaciones al término de una lectura.
En sí misma, esta obra es de una excelencia abrumadora.


Magnanimous work of Homer that develops, especially, the Trojan war.
This book in question is written in prose.
It was difficult to me to read as there are some very detailed descriptions of all the details involved in a war and it was quite heavy.
Perhaps the fact that it was written in prose prevented me from enjoying it more. That doesn't mean it's a bad book, but it's a matter of feelings at the end of a reading.
In itself, this work is of overwhelming excellence.

In the ninth year of the Trojan War, Greek victories have led to Agamemnon taking Chryseis and Achilles taking Briseis. Following Chryseis' father's prayers to Apollo, a pestilence afflicts the Greeks. Agamemnon releases Chryseis but demands Briseis, which sullies Achilles' honour. Achilles is ropeable and refuses to fight. With capricious gods supporting both sides, the Trojans drive the Greeks back. Petroclus--Achilles' lover--is killed by Hector. This ignites Achilles' rage. He returns and kills Hector yet keeps the body for the dogs. Priam--Hector's father and King of Troy--begs Achilles for Hector's return. Recognising Priam's humanity, Achilles relents.

This is a hyper-masculine story. The Trojan War is underpinned by Helen of Sparta being taken to Troy by Paris. This sparks conflict as men on each side view her as their property. Agamemnon and Achilles' feud also arose from their possessiveness over captured women. For time immemorial, women have been seen as 'spoils of war'. It was only in 2008 when the United Nations Security Council recognised sexual violence as a war crime. Modern veneration of this ancient story somewhat downplays ongoing male sexual violence towards women in warfare. This enduring reality is presently exemplified by Russians using sexual violence as a weapon of war in Ukraine.

This tale prominently features graphic battle scenes, including descriptions of mushed brains and eviscerations. This grows tiresome over 700 pages. However, a poignant moment unfolds in Book 24 when Priam seeks the return of Hector's body. Achilles is a selfish demi-god that glories in the slaughter of his enemies. However, he briefly sheds his callous façade when viewing the bond of a mortal father and son. This scene exposes war's futility and its destructiveness. While Patroclus was avenged, Achilles remains distraught, and the Trojans are left in despair. Furthermore, this choice seals Achilles' fate for a future demise at the hands of Paris. Even in victory, war remains pyrrhic to the soul.

The story of the siege of Troy is one of heroism and tragedy. There are so many unforgettable characters here - both gods and heroes - that it is like watching an old black and white movie with those incredible crowds like in Ben Hur. You can see the vast encampment of Greeks around Troy, you can smell the cooking fires and hear the laughter in the camp - the jeers at the wall and the frustration on both sides as the siege goes on and on. The epic battles near the end the claim the lives of some of mythologies greatest heroes - Achilles and Hector - are beyond description. The Rouse translation is a bit dry but still does a great job of bringing this classic tale to life. I would love to hear from commenters on alternate translations, but this one which is a bit of a classic is the only one I have tried.

They lived in a house where a narrow enfilade made up for a pitch to make up for an amateurish game of cricket with one opening to the hall room and the other two to a bedroom and kitchen facing opposite to each other. As any elder sibling is wont to do, he sneaked into the younger sibling’s bedroom and passed taunts in an attempt to slake his vengeance for the previous match lost. The challenge of a re-game to settle the dust on who is the better player would finally lead to a recollection of past games which were remembered distinctly by the two challengers in a way that favored them. The younger brother readily accepted the challenge of a replay of the previous final to settle the mad confusion of pride.
In a series of events rife with verbal intimidation and disagreements they reached up to the last ball of the final over where the younger brother had to take up a run to win the game. The bowler weighed his options and decided to propel the final ball to the weak-spot of the batsman, a well-known weakness although taking the risk of the batsman correctly anticipating it. The ball was bowled out of the reach of the batsman with its first bounce onto the floor which would in its further movement move inwards leaving the batsman with no option other than to send the ball into the hallway and in order to completely execute the shot the batsman had to shift to his weaker leg leaving him in an awkward position which made it a difficult shot to play.
As feared by the bowler, the ball was anticipated correctly and was successfully sent into the hallway and the batsmen hurtled towards the opposite end to get the single run and win the game. Little did he realize the ball dragged across the complete diagonal of the hall and reached for the showcase containing the statue of the famed discus thrower.





The statue was bought from Italy by a young man with the same smile the boy had when he reached the crease and made the winning run. The toppling sound of the statue wiped the familiar grin of the little boy’s face. He launched a frenzied run towards the showcase. He dropped to his knees and held the tiny piece of the disc thrower’s ankle which was separated from the statue owing to the ball’s force. Contrary to reacting like a child and blaming his ill-fate, he marveled at the lithe body frame of the man holding the disc, the smooth curves of the statue and why it held a special place in his father’s heart. It wasn’t just the materialistic build of its physical form. It existed among all the other antiques in the shelf but it held a special place in his father’s remembrance of his younger days indulging in Greek mythological sculptures and paintings. It had held him in a peculiar state of rapture every time he glanced at the statue.
That is the exact point of commencement of a passion the younger brother still pursues to this date. His love for statues depicting stories of an expansive mythology where men talked to the Gods, where empires fell, where heroes retaliated against a higher force, how men exulted and pride blinded them, how the Gods would favour their mortal child and often fought against other deathless Gods only realizing the mortality of humans and their petty battles leading to nothing other than a purposeless satiation of one’s ego. What merely seemed like stories found a home in the boy’s heart.
The passion sill goes strong. Have you ever been deeply conscious of a passion you pursue so as to precisely depict the impingement of an ongoing rush of adrenaline hitting you every time you think of it? The tragedy, the unending conquest of humans as well as the Gods to extend their hands and rapaciously grab onto something higher than self ultimately leading to their downfall. The realization of hubris and the rationale behind it and yet repeating our mistakes seem to be a common theme yet the circumstances and the reasoning behind it always make the stories worth the read. This conspicuous theme with a backdrop of bloody violence and unfair dealings to the mortals leaves with the same expression and the same learnings which could be possibly abstracted from other pieces of Greek literature but it still connects me to the human side of events guided by force. Interesting thing about force is the way a human being would perceive it. It might just be the different emotions depicted as Gods. Or simply an ephemeral piece of conscious driving motives in the characters.

I had originally intended to write a review sticking to my usual skeptical reader perspective trying to base them on facts and giving ratings depending on the degree of mitigating my skeptical nature towards a book but I have failed in doing so and I’m happy I did. I apologize for the disjointed review though and would gladly agree that my bias towards Greek mythology drove me to give this book a 5 star rating.

Also, this probably might be the only passion I share with my father and in a recent telephonic conversation since we hardly meet thrice a year I told him I was reading ‘Iliad’. He replied, “Now? But you already know the complete story.” And yes I would still give it a 5-star if I re-read it.

Možda je glupo što ovo pišem... Šta ja da napišem o Ilijadi? Opet, da sam zapisao, bilo bi mi interesantno pročitati šta sam mislio kad sam je pročitao u gimnaziji. Sećam se da sam je čitao na glas, da bi uopšte razumeo šta piše u tom heksametru. Naravno, tako je i nastala i prenosila se. Dođe recitator u grad i 3 ili 4 dana zaredom recituje Ilijadu, ljudi slušaju. I drugo, Ahilej mi je bio jako kul lik (zašto, Nikola?!)

(Ilijada i Odiseja su nastale u vreme kad su Grci zaboravili da pišu. Kako ovo naučiš na pamet, a da nemaš tekst pred sobom? Kako je uopšte nastala ako je nisu zapisali - kako je Homer naučio to što je pričao? I kako su ih prvi put zapisali? Neko naučio da piše, pa dođe drugi i recituje? Pisar ipak piše na papirus, sporo je to. Ili je recitator naučio da piše, pa je seo da odradi taj posao?)

Pročitavši je ponovo... Da li je moguće da je nešto što je nastalo pre 3,000 godine, ujedno i nešto najbolje što je ikad napisano?



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Zapažanja.

1. Sve je s jedne strane jako čudno - bajka sa mitovima, nadljudskom snagom, čudnim bogovima. A opet, toliko poznato i nakon 3,000 godina. Ti bogovi su tako slični nama, Ahilejev bes i sujetu mogu da zamislim kod nekog političara, kao i Hektorovu brigu za svoju porodicu i grad.

2. Katalog brodova je sranje, ne treba se mučiti. Koliko ljudi odustane od čitanja u drugom pevanju?

3. Ponovo sam iznenađen da je ovo priča o samo 10 dana rata (mada, ne slaže mi se nešto taj tajming, pred kraj se spominju drugačija trajanja, neko je pogrešno zapamtio šta je Homer pričao). Počinje usred priče, i završava se usred priče. A jedan, onaj najduži dan Hektorove super-moći, traje maltene trećinu Ilijade.

4. Neke scene se ponavljaju, bukvalno reč po reč se koriste isti stihovi. Stilski alat ili nešto što je pomagalo recitatorima da je lakše nauče? I šta je sa "kravookom" Herom i "Ahejcima sa zlatnim nazuvcima"?

5. Kako je samo Ahilej ispsovao Agamemnona na početku. Ovaj je kralj, zaboga. I da li je Ahilej preterao sa svojim durenjem? Koliko smrti je naneo Grcima dok se nije borio? I uspeo ozbiljno da posvađa bogove.

6. Bogovi su sjajni. Nisu uvek dobri, ljubazni ili pravedni. (Da li je naš koncept boga pogrešan?) Bogovi nisu svemoćni, a ni sveznajući. Imaju mnogo ljudskih mana - ako ih gledamo iz tačke ljudi u Ilijadi, moćni su i izuzetni, ali ako ih gledamo iz tačke naratora, onda su sitni i sujetni do zlaboga. Nisu stvorili svet, nemaju simpatije ni ljubavi prema ljudima (imaju prema nekima, ako su im to deca koju su napravili sa ljudima, na primer). A opet, toliko su sjajni. Ne mogu da izaberem najomiljenijeg boga. Prepričavao ćerki - ona sad priča po školi da smo mi u porodici sad ipak religiozni, ali smo politeisti.

7. Najomiljeniji lik među Grcima? Odisej ili Ajant? Porota još zaseda.

8. Trojanci nisu varvari, pričaju grčki, poštuju iste bogove. Ali su ipak neprijatelji. Trebalo bi da navijamo za Grke. Ali Trojanci su simpatičniji - ne bore se (samo) za čast i slavu, bore se za život, za svoj grad, za svoje porodice. Žene i deca će im biti silovana i/ili porobljena. Hektor je ljudsko biće - komandant, sin, brat, muž, otac... Njegove scene sa ženom i sinom su među boljima u Ilijadi. S druge strane, Grci mogu da izgube samo svoj život. Ahilej je nečovečji, kao neki super-heroj. Izolovan je, povukao se iz društva. Hladan, nerazuman, sebičan, sujetan, pred kraj skrnavljenjem neprijatelja potpuni varvarin. Ne razume smrt, plače kao mala beba.

9. Bogovi ne mogu biti povređeni, ne mogu umreti. Stoga, kod njih ne postoji hrabrost. Da li to znači da su ljudi bolji od bogova?

10. Simpatično su prepričane bitke u najdužem, Hektorovom, danu. Ako ih čitaš kako ih vide ljudi u Ilijadi, onda ti je sve logično, možeš da zamisliš da se sve tako i desilo. Oni su ti koji utiču na događaje i na smrt. Ali mi, čitaoci, znamo toliko više. Vidimo šta su u tim bitkama uradili Zevs, Hera, Apolon, Iris, Arej... Čitajući paralelno - neverovatno je to mešanje u sudbinu pojedinaca. Čime se ti ljudi (khm, bogovi) bave. Opet, postoje delovi kad Zevs želi da se umeša i spase nekoga, a drugi bogovi mu ne daju. Ne možeš da sprečiš sudbinu, kažu mu otprilike.

11. Ono kad Hera zavodi Zevsa, da mu odvrati pažnju. Najduhovitiji deo Ilijade?

12. Zbog čega nemam nikakve emocije prema Patroklu? On je neki sporedan glumac koji dobija veliku slavu, ali je to s razlogom da umre, da bi se priča nastavila? Ili je nešto ipak u njegovom ponašanju?

13. Da li sam dobro razumeo da svim ljudi imaju jednu sudbinu, a Ahilej ima dve, može da bira? Ako se vrati kući, živeće srećno i dugo. Ali ako ostane da se bori, umreće i zaradiće večnu slavu. Zapravo nije baš tako lako izabrao, čini mi se. Ne samo da se durio zbog Briseide, nego mi se čini da je zaista razmišljao o ovome. Naravno, ovo je ep, a slava je za Grke imala toliku vrednost, da nije moglo drugačije.

14. "Tako su oni pogrebli konjomoru Hektora borca." Kraj. Čekaj, gde je Ahilejeva smrt? Gde je Ahilova peta? Trojanski konj? Pad Troje, paljenje, silovanje? Da mogu da mi kažu da mogu da pročitam (izgubljeni?) ep o tome, ali da moram to da platim danima stvarnog života - koliko dana bih dao?

‘‘La Ilíada’’ es una historia amplia y estratificada sobre la guerra que mezcla los mundos del individuo con el de su "nación" y con el de los grandes dioses divinos inmortales, donde cada capa es fascinante. Como historia sobre la guerra, también es una historia sobre la destrucción de vidas y la insensibilización cada vez mayor de los lectores. Por esta razón y muchas otras, ‘‘La Ilíada’’ es una historia profundamente inquietante.

Encontrarse con esta obra es como entrar en un museo donde numerosos productos de importancia secundaria o terciaria en galerías más pequeñas conducen hacia un gran atrio central que contiene la Ilíada. El poema es el centro estético de toda la colección. Ésta es la gran paradoja de la literatura griega: no se abre con algo rudo, primitivo, que necesita desarrollo o refinamiento. No, lo que tenemos es una obra de una perfección tan asombrosa que sigue siendo el estándar con el que se mide todo lo demás.

Muchos hombres mueren en esta historia, en la cual, cada uno de ellos tiene alguna habilidad legendaria, alguna vida prometedora, que es interrumpida por otro que tiene otra habilidad legendaria y otra vida prometedora. Cada hombre tiene un nombre adicional adjunto al suyo, el de su padre, que lamentará su pérdida. Con esto, Homero retrata con una honestidad inquebrantable el terrible costo de la guerra, donde se destruyen vidas, se destrozan familias y las ciudades están condenadas a la destrucción. La muerte de cada hombre es dramática, gráfica, cuerpo a cuerpo y cara a cara, un concurso en el que todos los hombres son iguales y, sin embargo, ninguno es tan bueno como Aquiles. Este hombre cuya gloria se hace por su gran poder, que solo se revela por su gran vanidad. Se niega a luchar durante años y, como resultado, todo el ejército de su nación es casi aniquilado por completo.

Creo que vale la pena mencionar mucho sobre el alcance de los personajes que se exhiben en este cuento, porque vale la pena señalar que ninguno de ellos es particularmente detallado o completo. De hecho, diría que estos personajes son profundamente superficiales. No obstante, esto no me importó, aunque la falta de desarrollo del personaje era algo confusa. Dicho esto, me permitió construir una comprensión muy simple de los hombres y (pocas) mujeres en esta historia, por lo que los conecté casi de manera singular con ciertos rasgos o ideas de carácter.

Leer esto fue un trabajo duro debido a que sus muchas páginas están llenas de descripciones gráficas aparentemente interminables de asesinatos en el campo de batalla, pero de vez en cuando hay un pasaje que es tan asombroso o ridículamente sangriento que hace que valga la pena su lectura. En última instancia, esta es una historia maravillosa sobre la guerra, la cual encapsula los extremos de la experiencia humana y la Ilíada lo expresa con palabras. Es hermoso, terrible, estúpido y noble a la vez. A pesar de que los personajes son dioses, semidioses y héroes, todos se sienten totalmente humanos. Son mezquinos e irracionales y se contradicen a diario, pero también se preocupan por el amor, la gloria, el honor y la familia. Muestra que la línea entre el bien y el mal está dentro de cada persona, no entre grupos: amaba y odiaba a los troyanos y a los griegos, según la página en la que estaba en ese momento. Definitivamente se gana su lugar como un clásico atemporal.