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I was surprised by how much I enjoyed reading The Iliad. Many parts of it are bizarre and horrifying to the modern reader, but it can certainly be enjoyed within its context. A study guide that offers historical, cultural, and literary context to the ancient epic can significantly enhance the reading experience.
I listened to Elizabeth Vandiver's Iliad of Homer Lecture Series while reading the book and I am so happy that I took the time to do so. I simply would not have enjoyed The Iliad if it weren't for the insight and information she offers about the historical, cultural, and literary nuances of the book.
Plot Summary for the Modern Reader:
On the surface, the story is pointless and simple: Achilles gets too angry and it doesn't do anyone any good. Everyone, Trojans and Greeks alike suffer the consequences of this grotesque manchild's unreasonable anger, including himself. Lots of men die in gory bloodshed. Throw a fair amount of plotting and scheming by a bunch of ridiculous gods and a lot of misogyny in the mix and there you have it.
To sum up the whole book in one phrase: toxic masculinity in full force.
Themes, Differences and Similarities with our world:
But. The thing is that this story, wild and distant as it sounds to our times, has striking similarities to the modern world. War, bloodlust, and misogyny have been inseparable from humankind for all of history. This book has survived millennia because it continues to resonate with generations of humans. And it's not all bad, there are lots of amazing things about this book: beautiful poetry, gorgeous language and similes, a lot of relatable humanity throughout, touching moments, vivid characters who are relatable and nuanced, brilliant narrative that's exciting and full of suspense, and all the fun of Greek mythology.
Misogyny and the Situation of Women
Entering this world, I had to come to terms with the fact that Homeric society functions very differently from what I would consider agreeable. The most disturbing difference is that no one, ever, questions the validity of slavery and the inferiority of women. Women are treated as prizes won by warriors, quite literally:
And they are not only prized for their handicraft skills, but they are sex slaves, plain and simple. The whole book starts because Achilles is angry that Agamemnon took Briseis (a woman, Achilles' sex slave) for his own and dishonored him in doing so. Not to mention that the war itself started just because Paris abducted Helen (or they ran off together, depending on whom you ask), and Helen is usually blamed for all of it. She even calls herself "whore that I am", more than once, while accusing herself of having started the war. (Which is ridiculous, stop calling yourself a slut, Helen!)
This amount of sexism is infuriating, and it's precisely why I'm not rating the book 5. but I have come to terms with the fact that world literature (and world history, for that matter) has been sexist since the beginning of time until fairly recently. If I wanted to denounce every book that mistreats women, I'd have to denounce almost the entirety of literature from all cultures. I've decided that in order to approach ancient texts, I'll accept them as they are, read them within their context and I won't let myself get enraged over every single act of misogyny.
Gore and Violence:
The descriptions of the book are extremely brutal. The battles are described in gory, vivid, almost cinematic detail as warriors slaughter each other by chopping each others' heads off or stabbing the weirdest body parts imaginable (with "beside the nipple of the right breast" being a repeated favorite). I confess that it is not, in any way, enjoyable to read hundreds of verses on such disgustingly gory imagery. There are long descriptions of armor and warriors putting on armor as well, which aren't that interesting, and they're almost always the same. I did not enjoy reading those parts in the slightest. Not at all.
The Gods (Or Comic Relief):
Then there are the gods. The Greek gods are so grotesque that they're almost comic. The reason why I like Greek mythology to begin with is that I can laugh at these gods and their childish actions the whole time. They can be terrifying, but even that's somehow comic. They call each other names, they bicker, they scheme, they're vain, but they're fun to read about.
Glory, Honor, Death
The other cultural-historical difference that I perceive as a striking similarity is the concept of Kleos. Kleos [κλέος] can roughly be translated as "Glory", the glory that Greek warriors fight for, but that's not all of it. As Vandiver explains in her lectures, Kleos is also "reputation", as in "what is said about you, by other people, especially after you die". She stresses that in the pre-literate society that Homer depicts, this concept of Kleos is the only form of immortality available to warriors (and men in general). In a society where there can be no written record of who you were and what you did, the only chance you have at being remembered and live on in the collective memories of the society is to win glory, Kleos. If you die with Kleos, people will talk about you with honor and respect, thus immortalizing you through tales and epic stories they will tell about you long after you're dead. That is strikingly similar to the way we live today. Maybe our way of gaining a good and lasting reputation is not by raiding cities, war and manslaughter anymore, but the concept hasn't changed much: We die, we are inevitably bound to die, so we desperately try to do good, do something to live on in the collective memory of future generations after we've died. (Some people can claim they don't live like that, but that's a fairly modern idea and you get my point).
The warriors themselves don't even want to fight. They don't enjoy it, and they wish they could have just gone back and lived their lives in peace. Both sides feel that way. This unwillingness and futility is stressed many times throughout the book. Agamemnon, leader of the Greeks, no fewer than three times says "we should pack up and go back to Greece, this is pointless". Most major characters at some point contemplate giving up the fight because it's just ridiculous to fight over nothing. The example that all introductions and teachers give is this one, where Sarpedon and Glaucus, two Trojan warriors are talking:
Their attitude is mostly along the lines of "I wish we could live forever, but now that we can't, let's just do this and at least die with honor and glory". Which is very sad. If you think about this statement for a moment, you'll realize how desperate, how unfortunate, how pitiable this situation is that these warriors are stuck in. They don't want to fight, but they can't bring themselves not do. Both sides are human. The war is pointless. That's a very realistic depiction of war, and it's a sad reality. You can't help but feel sad for all of them.
I didn't like all of the characters, but I could sympathize with them and pity them in their futile attempt to immortalize their memory.
This concept of mortality, the inevitability of death, the desperate urge to make a name for oneself during their short life is the main theme of The Iliad and what it has in common with human life through the centuries. This concept, this meditation on the mortality of humans is (alongside the favorite marketing tools of violent fights and sex) what, I think, has kept The Iliad alive through the centuries. It's fascinating.
Hating and Liking the Characters:
On a less stuffy note, I want to add that a lot of characters in The Iliad are likable, even though almost all of them are misogynist vicious warriors. Patroclus is gentle and kind-hearted and he weeps for the dead the warriors and the ugliness of war. The Ajaxes (there's two of them for some reason) are brave and they never give up, they rush to help their fellow warriors. Odysseus, Aeneas, Priam, even Diomedes all have some deeply human moments.
Homer doesn't villainize and alienate the Trojans at all, either. They're supposed to be the enemy, but the Trojans are very human, most of them are more sensible and gentler than the Greeks. I really like the fact that they're not treated as "the savage, filthy, less-than-human enemy" at all. To me, they seemed like the actual "good people" in the whole story, especially since they're fighting to defend their city not to attack the Greeks.
The hero of the Trojans (and in my opinion, the hero of the whole book), crown prince Hector, is by far the most human, most relatable, most responsible, and best character among all warriors. He sounds like any normal modern man that's been forced to go to war and does so merely out of responsibility, not bloodlust. He rushes to battle even though he most certainly would rather stay home with his wife Andromache and their infant son.
On the other side, Achilles, the man who's supposed to be the hero of all heroes, is despicable. I mean that's just the way I read the story, but Achilles is horrible, insufferable, disgusting. He's impulsive, irresponsible, he has serious anger management problems (!) and he can't react to events proportionately. Even though he has some profoundly human issues, I can't forgive him for what he did to Hector. As a person who takes fictional characters rather seriously, I just had to mention this. I hate Achilles. :D
Ranting aside, I want to mention a few things about translations as well.
A Note on Translations:
I act a bit obsessively about translations. I am never content with the one I'm reading, I always have the uneasy feeling of "what if there's a better translation out there", so I just have to check every translation I can get my hands on to see which one I like best. For reading The Iliad, I raided the library and all sources available to collect as many translations as I could and read them alongside each other for comparison. I must give a disclaimer that I am not a translator, not a classicist, and I do not know Greek. This is by no means an expert's opinion, but merely my personal impressions based on reading and consulting four English translations alongside each other.
● The Robert Fitzgerald Translation is my favorite by far. It's beautiful, but the language isn't too outdated. It has tried to keep the poetic (segmented lines) format. It's very readable and I liked it much more than other translations. It also has a foreword which is informative and I enjoyed reading it. The excerpts I quoted in this review are from this translation.
● The Richmond Lattimore Translation is the most literary and with the richest vocabulary among all of these. The language is beautiful and more heavy-handed than the rest, it attempts to keep the poetic structure as much as possible, and it's simply beautiful. But for me, it took a bit longer to read from it because of the rather dated language. I would normally read from the Fitzgerald, mark the beautiful similes and passages and check them in the Lattimore translation afterward. The foreword, again, is very good.
● The E. V. Rieu Translation: This one is in prose (The line numbers are marked). It's readable, it's easy, and it's the most humorous one by far. I don't know if Rieu intended to make it comical, but he's phrased the bizarre dialogues in a way that came across as funny to me. Whenever I arrived at a phrase that I found hilarious (when the gods were calling each other names, for example) I'd look at the Rieu translation and I wouldn't be disappointed (Hera calling Zeus an arch-deceiver and Hector calling Paris Paris, you parody were two of my favorites). It also has a short plot summary (with line numbers) before each book (chapter) starts which is very useful. The introduction is really good, too. If you want to read a prose version, this is the one for you.
●The Robert Fagles Translation is the one I didn't particularly like. It has a very good and informative foreword. It's fairly readable and has attempted to keep the poetic format. I don't have anything against it, but it just doesn't stand out compared to Fitzgerald or Lattimore.
I read the first two books from it and then I gave it up, occasionally consulting it on interesting sections.
You can choose whichever translation you like. If you're more comfortable with prose, go with Rieu. If you like the "poetic" format, I'd say try Fitzgerald. It is worth mentioning that none of the "poetic" translations are actual poems in English. Translation inevitably sacrifices the true poetic quality of the original. None of these translations have a noticeable rhyme and rhythm, let alone a standard meter. But that's just something we have to accept whenever reading something in translation. Whichever edition you choose is fine, they're all by experienced scholars. But please read the introduction because they are all very well-written, informative, and insightful.
Alright. I've been rambling long enough. I just want to conclude by saying that The Iliad is well worth reading. It's interesting and exciting and bizarre and stupid and beautiful all at the same time, and I definitely enjoyed it and learned a lot from it.
I listened to Elizabeth Vandiver's Iliad of Homer Lecture Series while reading the book and I am so happy that I took the time to do so. I simply would not have enjoyed The Iliad if it weren't for the insight and information she offers about the historical, cultural, and literary nuances of the book.
Plot Summary for the Modern Reader:
On the surface, the story is pointless and simple: Achilles gets too angry and it doesn't do anyone any good. Everyone, Trojans and Greeks alike suffer the consequences of this grotesque manchild's unreasonable anger, including himself. Lots of men die in gory bloodshed. Throw a fair amount of plotting and scheming by a bunch of ridiculous gods and a lot of misogyny in the mix and there you have it.
To sum up the whole book in one phrase: toxic masculinity in full force.
Themes, Differences and Similarities with our world:
But. The thing is that this story, wild and distant as it sounds to our times, has striking similarities to the modern world. War, bloodlust, and misogyny have been inseparable from humankind for all of history. This book has survived millennia because it continues to resonate with generations of humans. And it's not all bad, there are lots of amazing things about this book: beautiful poetry, gorgeous language and similes, a lot of relatable humanity throughout, touching moments, vivid characters who are relatable and nuanced, brilliant narrative that's exciting and full of suspense, and all the fun of Greek mythology.
Misogyny and the Situation of Women
Entering this world, I had to come to terms with the fact that Homeric society functions very differently from what I would consider agreeable. The most disturbing difference is that no one, ever, questions the validity of slavery and the inferiority of women. Women are treated as prizes won by warriors, quite literally:
n “As for the loser, in their midst Akhilleus
placed a woman versatile at crafts,
whose value was four oxen.”n
And they are not only prized for their handicraft skills, but they are sex slaves, plain and simple. The whole book starts because Achilles is angry that Agamemnon took Briseis (a woman, Achilles' sex slave) for his own and dishonored him in doing so. Not to mention that the war itself started just because Paris abducted Helen (or they ran off together, depending on whom you ask), and Helen is usually blamed for all of it. She even calls herself "whore that I am", more than once, while accusing herself of having started the war. (Which is ridiculous, stop calling yourself a slut, Helen!)
This amount of sexism is infuriating, and it's precisely why I'm not rating the book 5. but I have come to terms with the fact that world literature (and world history, for that matter) has been sexist since the beginning of time until fairly recently. If I wanted to denounce every book that mistreats women, I'd have to denounce almost the entirety of literature from all cultures. I've decided that in order to approach ancient texts, I'll accept them as they are, read them within their context and I won't let myself get enraged over every single act of misogyny.
Gore and Violence:
The descriptions of the book are extremely brutal. The battles are described in gory, vivid, almost cinematic detail as warriors slaughter each other by chopping each others' heads off or stabbing the weirdest body parts imaginable (with "beside the nipple of the right breast" being a repeated favorite). I confess that it is not, in any way, enjoyable to read hundreds of verses on such disgustingly gory imagery. There are long descriptions of armor and warriors putting on armor as well, which aren't that interesting, and they're almost always the same. I did not enjoy reading those parts in the slightest. Not at all.
The Gods (Or Comic Relief):
Then there are the gods. The Greek gods are so grotesque that they're almost comic. The reason why I like Greek mythology to begin with is that I can laugh at these gods and their childish actions the whole time. They can be terrifying, but even that's somehow comic. They call each other names, they bicker, they scheme, they're vain, but they're fun to read about.
Glory, Honor, Death
The other cultural-historical difference that I perceive as a striking similarity is the concept of Kleos. Kleos [κλέος] can roughly be translated as "Glory", the glory that Greek warriors fight for, but that's not all of it. As Vandiver explains in her lectures, Kleos is also "reputation", as in "what is said about you, by other people, especially after you die". She stresses that in the pre-literate society that Homer depicts, this concept of Kleos is the only form of immortality available to warriors (and men in general). In a society where there can be no written record of who you were and what you did, the only chance you have at being remembered and live on in the collective memories of the society is to win glory, Kleos. If you die with Kleos, people will talk about you with honor and respect, thus immortalizing you through tales and epic stories they will tell about you long after you're dead. That is strikingly similar to the way we live today. Maybe our way of gaining a good and lasting reputation is not by raiding cities, war and manslaughter anymore, but the concept hasn't changed much: We die, we are inevitably bound to die, so we desperately try to do good, do something to live on in the collective memory of future generations after we've died. (Some people can claim they don't live like that, but that's a fairly modern idea and you get my point).
The warriors themselves don't even want to fight. They don't enjoy it, and they wish they could have just gone back and lived their lives in peace. Both sides feel that way. This unwillingness and futility is stressed many times throughout the book. Agamemnon, leader of the Greeks, no fewer than three times says "we should pack up and go back to Greece, this is pointless". Most major characters at some point contemplate giving up the fight because it's just ridiculous to fight over nothing. The example that all introductions and teachers give is this one, where Sarpedon and Glaucus, two Trojan warriors are talking:
n “Ah, cousin, could we but survive this war
to live forever deathless, without age,
I would not ever go again to battle,
nor would I send you there for honor’s sake.
But now a thousand shapes of death surround us,
and no man can escape them, or be safe.
Let us attack—whether to give some fellow
glory or to win it from him.”n
Their attitude is mostly along the lines of "I wish we could live forever, but now that we can't, let's just do this and at least die with honor and glory". Which is very sad. If you think about this statement for a moment, you'll realize how desperate, how unfortunate, how pitiable this situation is that these warriors are stuck in. They don't want to fight, but they can't bring themselves not do. Both sides are human. The war is pointless. That's a very realistic depiction of war, and it's a sad reality. You can't help but feel sad for all of them.
I didn't like all of the characters, but I could sympathize with them and pity them in their futile attempt to immortalize their memory.
This concept of mortality, the inevitability of death, the desperate urge to make a name for oneself during their short life is the main theme of The Iliad and what it has in common with human life through the centuries. This concept, this meditation on the mortality of humans is (alongside the favorite marketing tools of violent fights and sex) what, I think, has kept The Iliad alive through the centuries. It's fascinating.
Hating and Liking the Characters:
On a less stuffy note, I want to add that a lot of characters in The Iliad are likable, even though almost all of them are misogynist vicious warriors. Patroclus is gentle and kind-hearted and he weeps for the dead the warriors and the ugliness of war. The Ajaxes (there's two of them for some reason) are brave and they never give up, they rush to help their fellow warriors. Odysseus, Aeneas, Priam, even Diomedes all have some deeply human moments.
Homer doesn't villainize and alienate the Trojans at all, either. They're supposed to be the enemy, but the Trojans are very human, most of them are more sensible and gentler than the Greeks. I really like the fact that they're not treated as "the savage, filthy, less-than-human enemy" at all. To me, they seemed like the actual "good people" in the whole story, especially since they're fighting to defend their city not to attack the Greeks.
The hero of the Trojans (and in my opinion, the hero of the whole book), crown prince Hector, is by far the most human, most relatable, most responsible, and best character among all warriors. He sounds like any normal modern man that's been forced to go to war and does so merely out of responsibility, not bloodlust. He rushes to battle even though he most certainly would rather stay home with his wife Andromache and their infant son.
On the other side, Achilles, the man who's supposed to be the hero of all heroes, is despicable. I mean that's just the way I read the story, but Achilles is horrible, insufferable, disgusting. He's impulsive, irresponsible, he has serious anger management problems (!) and he can't react to events proportionately. Even though he has some profoundly human issues, I can't forgive him for what he did to Hector. As a person who takes fictional characters rather seriously, I just had to mention this. I hate Achilles. :D
Ranting aside, I want to mention a few things about translations as well.
A Note on Translations:
I act a bit obsessively about translations. I am never content with the one I'm reading, I always have the uneasy feeling of "what if there's a better translation out there", so I just have to check every translation I can get my hands on to see which one I like best. For reading The Iliad, I raided the library and all sources available to collect as many translations as I could and read them alongside each other for comparison. I must give a disclaimer that I am not a translator, not a classicist, and I do not know Greek. This is by no means an expert's opinion, but merely my personal impressions based on reading and consulting four English translations alongside each other.
● The Robert Fitzgerald Translation is my favorite by far. It's beautiful, but the language isn't too outdated. It has tried to keep the poetic (segmented lines) format. It's very readable and I liked it much more than other translations. It also has a foreword which is informative and I enjoyed reading it. The excerpts I quoted in this review are from this translation.
● The Richmond Lattimore Translation is the most literary and with the richest vocabulary among all of these. The language is beautiful and more heavy-handed than the rest, it attempts to keep the poetic structure as much as possible, and it's simply beautiful. But for me, it took a bit longer to read from it because of the rather dated language. I would normally read from the Fitzgerald, mark the beautiful similes and passages and check them in the Lattimore translation afterward. The foreword, again, is very good.
● The E. V. Rieu Translation: This one is in prose (The line numbers are marked). It's readable, it's easy, and it's the most humorous one by far. I don't know if Rieu intended to make it comical, but he's phrased the bizarre dialogues in a way that came across as funny to me. Whenever I arrived at a phrase that I found hilarious (when the gods were calling each other names, for example) I'd look at the Rieu translation and I wouldn't be disappointed (Hera calling Zeus an arch-deceiver and Hector calling Paris Paris, you parody were two of my favorites). It also has a short plot summary (with line numbers) before each book (chapter) starts which is very useful. The introduction is really good, too. If you want to read a prose version, this is the one for you.
●The Robert Fagles Translation is the one I didn't particularly like. It has a very good and informative foreword. It's fairly readable and has attempted to keep the poetic format. I don't have anything against it, but it just doesn't stand out compared to Fitzgerald or Lattimore.
I read the first two books from it and then I gave it up, occasionally consulting it on interesting sections.
You can choose whichever translation you like. If you're more comfortable with prose, go with Rieu. If you like the "poetic" format, I'd say try Fitzgerald. It is worth mentioning that none of the "poetic" translations are actual poems in English. Translation inevitably sacrifices the true poetic quality of the original. None of these translations have a noticeable rhyme and rhythm, let alone a standard meter. But that's just something we have to accept whenever reading something in translation. Whichever edition you choose is fine, they're all by experienced scholars. But please read the introduction because they are all very well-written, informative, and insightful.
Alright. I've been rambling long enough. I just want to conclude by saying that The Iliad is well worth reading. It's interesting and exciting and bizarre and stupid and beautiful all at the same time, and I definitely enjoyed it and learned a lot from it.