O desenvolvimento do ser humano, sobretudo enquanto felizes petizes, baseia-se no percepcionado pelo meio envolvente, num processo de engrenagem que, iniciado pela visão, a transmuta e trabalha, para modelar peças de conduta. Um animal mecanizado, nesta era industrial, vive, pois, de associações e modelos, numa tentativa constante de aprimorar o produto final. Deste modo, os primeiros gestos são meras tentativas de reprodução daqueles apreendidos, as primeiras palavras as que mais repetidas vezes se escutam. Neste retorno à idade do embalo, torna-se claro que os progenitores sejam considerados como os primeiros heróis, esse título tão apregoado pelos cânones da literatura e massificado pelas histórias dos que, não se cingindo ao mero terreno, lhe adicionam um “super” inabalável.

Este modelo tem vindo a ser cinzelado por benfazejos artífices, desde os primórdios da história, bem exemplificado pelas epopeias trágicas de Homero. Na “Ilíada”, canta-se, numa laúde imensa, a refrega empreendida pelos Aqueus, contra Troianos, fruto das emoções que sempre comandam as, pouco reflectidas, reacções humanas – a paixão fogosa, a cobiça sedenta, o orgulho cego. No centro da batalha, deitando por terra qualquer véu branco que a recobrisse, jaz Helena que, com toda a sua formosura coisificada, é disputada por estes adversários, personificados nos dois protagonistas, Aquiles e Heitor. Heróis em título, encontram-se em pólos opostos, não apenas na batalha, mas também na sua essência – se o primeiro é semideus, por herança (filho de deusa e de mortal), mas se entrega aos vícios e às emoções humanas; já o segundo, sendo humano, é divinizado pelas suas atitudes, colocado no púlpito glorificado, pelos seus congéneres. Partilham as características fundamentais dos heróis – o sentimento de justiça, a valentia brava e o espírito de sacrifício – e isso os aproxima. A tal ponto que, ao bramirem umas nas outras, as armas criam um som que se mantém como eco, por todas as eras, chegando à actualidade.

A mestria de Homero é inabalável, por mais espadas que a tentem ferir, pois suas cnémides são densas como bronze. Com uma escrita minunciosa, digna de um argumento de cinema, ao invés de convidar o leitor a uma experiência meramente contemplativa, o autor suga-o, veste-o das melhores armaduras possíveis, adaptadas a cada um, e entrega-o ao combate. Vai, pois, digladiando-se frente às diferentes personagens citadas, numa tarefa quase hercúlea, mas facilitada pelos bons ares emanados por Homero – ele planta verdadeiras árvores genealógicas, nas suas descrições, criando florestas densas, passiveis de serem desbravadas. Repetições também as há que, podendo ser recriminadas, funcionam como um elo cíclico manufacturado pelo ourives Hefesto, pejado das melhores pedras luzentes. Para além disso, acaricia as nossas faces, sujas no embate, com belas comparações entre homens e os mais diversos elementos da Natureza, relativizando a vil raiva cantada – algo tão natural, como a busca de alimento. Na mesma medida, faz descer, dos altos céus, os deuses olímpicos que demonstram ser tão humanos, como os que pisam a terra sulcada a mortos.

Por mais férrea que seja a camada protectora, o medo permanece porque, nesta luta, os corpos se embrenham e o sangue conflui para uma nascente de um rio escarlate, numa mortandade palpável. A foz? Porventura a mente de quem lê estas palavras apetrechadas de asas que, entre a retaliação final, são decepadas de um qualquer corpo, para as colocar noutro – o nosso, alado literato, que se deixa levar no encantamento. O estatuto de herói é, assim, generalizado, tocando homens, mesmo aqueles que tenham defeitos – também eles inspiram combates terrenos. Vitória ou derrota são relativas. Deparamo-nos, sim, com um processo catártico que exige, a um amante da mitologia grega, enunciar estas palavras, para dar a um desafio portentoso, um funeral digno como ele merece.

"Quando dois se põem a caminho, um discerne antes do doutro
o que é mais proveitoso; ao passo que quando é só um
a discernir, curto é o pensamento e ténue a astúcia."

I don't know why I read this. It isn't on The List (I guess because it's technically a poem, not a novel), and it wasn't assigned reading or anything. But for whatever reason, reading The Iliad has been on my mental to-do list for a while now, and last week I finally picked it up.

My first reaction: dude, this epic is epic. (thank you, I'll be here all week) It's full of dudes getting killed in really exquisite detail, dudes talking about killing or not killing dudes, dudes mourning dead dudes in a totally-not-homoerotic way, and dudes yelling at each other about the chicks who ruin everything. The battle sequences are long and action-packed, everybody is Zeus's kid or nephew, the men are men and the women are decoration. It's pretty awesome, is what I'm saying.

Second big reaction: I was surprised at how small the scope of this poem actually is. At the beginning, the Trojan War has already been going on for ten years, and the poem really only covers the last month or so. It's really interesting, because the poem seems to be about how the stupid actions of a few powerful people can have far-reaching and horrible consequences. The whole driving force in The Iliad is this: Menelaus takes Achilles's favorite chick Briseis (who, thanks to Movies in Fifteen Minutes, will always be known as Temple Babe in my head) for his own, and Achilles throws a massive snit fit and refuses to fight in the Trojan War until the king stops raping Achilles's girlfriend and lets Achilles go back to raping her instead. Because of this, loads and loads of people die, and the gods are no help whatsoever because they're all on different sides and keep messing things up.

That's the whole story: a bunch of guys who are fighting a war because of some guy stealing somebody's girlfriend all die horrible deaths because some other guys are having a fight over somebody's girlfriend. The lesson, of course, is that women ruin everything.

Normally this would be cause for me to get out my Feminist Rage Hat, except for the fact that the goddesses in this story kick so much ass I can't even get that angry about how lame Helen and Briseis are. (even Andromache isn't too bad, because she gets some really lovely scenes with Hector)

All in all, a pretty awesome, fast-paced action story with enough gore and bromance to keep everybody happy. I'm glad I took the time to read it.

(also if anyone's curious, I read the Richard Lattimore translation and found it very readable and well-done)

At my college graduation, the speaker was a gruff professor. He was one of those older men whom people somewhat patronizingly describe as a teddy bear to convey the idea that while he looks like Santa Claus, they wouldn’t be surprised to see him arraigned on assault charges at the local courthouse. I liked this professor in general, and his graduation speech was a grand: warm congratulations on a crisp early-summer day. He decided to inform us, however, that anyone who had not read The Iliad and The Odyssey should not be graduating from college. I was one of those lucky (lucky?) folks, like an illiterate kid graduating from high school.

I decided to rectify the situation as soon as possible, and I spent an indefinite number of hours in the next few, sunny weeks laying in a hammock on my porch, the boy I loved commiserating with me about this wonderful book. It is a warm, sharp memory. That was mumble mumble years ago, and this summer, I thought that since I just graduated again, I would read it again. It was a good choice. Warm, summer days in the hammock with limb-chopping, flashing helms, and mountain goats rushing down the hillside.

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

That is how this book feels to me.

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

It’s not possible to spoil this story because Homer is always one step ahead, tripping you up about what story he’s telling. So, just because I think it’s fun (and, also because it seems kind of absurd to write a “review” of The Iliad, so I’m wandering in the dark here), I’m going to give a brief summary:

This story is about a bunch of guys fighting over some women fleshlights and jewelry. Mostly the women fleshlights. Everyone’s been at this war for nine years (sidebar: weirdly, when I read that it was nine years, I thought, “NINE YEARS? WHO WOULD FIGHT A WAR FOR THAT LONG? Oh, wait . . . .”). As you probably know, the war initially started because Paris, a Trojan, stole Helen, who was the iPhone 5 of fleshlights, from Menelaus, an Argive. The Argives are at their ships; the Trojans are in Ilium, behind the city walls. There’s lots of blood and guts and pillaging throughout.

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

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

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

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

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

Those who are happy travel today with books and stories. Heroes of mythology and victims of confinement had made to get along. Look at Ulysses, for example; everyone knows his story. With a certificate of exit to wage war, he leaves Penelope and goes to Troy. Others, like Vian, would have deserted, but he hasn't. He makes war; it lasts ten years. He could go home, but no: the time heroes are all rebellious, like the gods. It's a true science fiction novel these days! In the Trojan part of the story, Homer is the seat of our emotions: Achile and his anger will lead the Greeks to defeat. In the feelings game, the gods have no example to receive from people. Sure, men have an interest in standing like heroes.

“My dear comrade’s dead—
Patroclus—the man I loved beyond all other comrades,
loved as my own life—I’ve lost him…
[…]
My spirit rebels—I’ve lost the will to live,
to take my stand in the world of men—unless,
before all else, Hector’s battered down by my spear
and gasps away his life, the blood-price for Patroclus…”


Etching by Pietro Testa.

Of course, the Iliad is a story of violence and valor. It famously begins with the “rage of Achilles,” and there are stabbings, beheadings, and crushing blows on almost every page—which is why I find it funny (and slightly disturbing) that I was completely swept up in the beauty of its language, endlessly rereading the lines, in absolute awe, where an eye would be gouged out by a spear or a severed head would roll in the dust. It was all overwhelming. I wish I could memorize every word.

Κανονικά θα πρέπει να αφαιρέσω ένα αστεράκι από όλα τα βιβλία που έπεσαν στα χέρια μου μέχρι σήμερα.

Και εξηγούμαι.

Πριν πολλά πολλά χρόνια, όταν πρωτοδιάβασα το Όνομα του Ρόδου, υπήρχε στην αρχή του βιβλίου μία σκηνή όπου ο Έκο περιγράφει με τη σημείωση "η ζωγραφική είναι η λογοτεχνία των φτωχών" ένα βιτρό που κοσμεί τους τοίχους του μοναστηριού. Μέσα σε κοντά δέκα σελίδες ξεπετιούνται σύμπαντα ολόκληρα, ζωές και άνθρωποι και έρωτες και πίκρες και εικόνες πολύχρωμες, μία αλληλουχία διαδοχικών αλληλεπιδρούμενων κοσμων που αφορούσαν μία μοναχά ταπεινή τοιχογραφία.

Ομολογώ πως την Ιλιάδα δεν την είχα διαβάσει ΠΟΤΕ ολόκληρη. Πάντα πίστευα πως "ξερω την υπόθεση άσε που έχω δει και την ταινία με τον Μπραντπίτ", πάντα πίστευα πως τελειώνει με τον Δούρειο Ίππο, δυστυχώς για μένα η ραψωδία Ω κλείνει με το "και έτσι ετάφη ο Έκτορας" (wtf!!!!). Και αυτό γιατί οπως όλοι μας, έτσι και εγώ την ειχα διδαχτεί στο σχολείο με τον λάθος τρόπο αλλά πάντα είχα στην καρδιά μου τη ραψωδία Σ, στην οποία ο ποιητής περιγράφει μέσα σε τέσσερις σελίδες την Ασπίδα του Αχιλλέα, που ο ίδιος ο Ήφαιστος έφτιαξε μετά το θάνατο του Πάτροκλου παραγγελία της Θέτιδας ώστε ο ηρωας να εκδικηθεί το θάνατο του αδερφικού φίλου του με τις τιμές που άρμοζαν σε θεό. Και δεν είχα κάνει ποτέ το συσχετισμό με τον θείο Ουμπέρτο και τον τρόπο που είχε διαλέξει να αποδώσει τιμές στο Απόλυτο Λογοτεχνικό Αριστούργημα όλων των εποχών, στο ομορφότερο παραμύθι του κόσμου.

Η πολυπλοκότητα του σύμπαντος των χαρακτήρων και η εξέλιξη αυτών, οι μάχες και πάνω από όλα ο σεβασμός με τον οποίον στέκοντας διαρκώς όλοι τόσο απέναντι στους Θεούς όσο και απέναντι στους εχθρούς τους, είναι από μόνα τους αρκετά για να βάλουν το έργο που από όλους χαρακτηρίζεται ως "ο ορισμός του έπους" στη θέση του σημαντικότερ��υ βιβλίου που έπεσε ποτέ στα χέρια μου. Και κάθε άλλο παρά τυχαίο είναι το γεγονός πως η Ιλιαδα διδάσκεται στα σχολεία όλης της γης όπως επίσης και το γεγονός πως ο Καζαντζάκης αφιέρωσε σημαντικό μέρος της ζωή του στη μετάφραση του έργου (ο Κακριδής στην εισαγωγή της Οδύσσειας αναφέρει πως εκδόθηκε το 1955 μετά από δουλειά που κράτησε συνολικά 14 χρόνια!).

Γιατί η Ιλιάδα δεν είναι μόνο οι απίθανα ιστορούμενες στιγμές της μάχης, δεν είναι η πίκρα για τα δεινά του πολέμου, δεν είναι οι αναρίθμητοι υπερήρωες που διαρκώς γλιτώνουν το θάνατο με τις παρεμβάσεις των θεών, δεν είναι ο δειλός Αγαμέμνωνας, δεν είναι ο πολυμήχανος Οδυσσέας, δεν είναι ο θηριώδης Αίαντας, δεν είναι ο Παρης που δε δίνει με τίποτα πίσω την Ελένη του, δεν είναι ο χαροκαμένος Πρίαμος, είναι ο τρόπος με τον οποίο οι πάντες έχουν μάθει και αντιμετωπίζουν τη ροή της ζωής και την υστεροφημία τους. Οι μάχες ολοκληρώνονται με τιμές και δώρα προς τους αντιπάλους και σπονδές στους θεούς, οι εκεχειρίες δε σπάνε ποτέ, όσοι σκυλεύουν τους νεκρούς έχουν κακό τέλος, φίλοι και εχθροί τρώνε στο ιδιο τραπέζι, και ο θάνατος παραμονεύει διαρκώς θνητούς και αθανάτους χωρίς όμως κανείς ποτέ να τον φοβάται και να τρέχει σαν δειλός μακριά του.

Με λίγα λόγια.

Έπος.

Does anyone have an audiobook recommendation for this one? I feel like it’s only proper to have it told orally.

Ἰλιάς = The Iliad, Homer

The Iliad is an ancient Greek epic poem in dactylic hexameter, traditionally attributed to Homer.

Set during the Trojan War, the ten-year siege of the city of Troy (Ilium) by a coalition of Greek states, it tells of the battles and events during the weeks of a quarrel between King Agamemnon and the warrior Achilles.

Characters: Ajax, Odysseus, Helen of Troy, Menelaus, Paris, Hector, Achilles, Agamemnon, Aeneas, Sarpedon, Priam, Cassandra, Patroclus, Diomedes, Ajax Oileus, Andromache, Briseis, Hecuba, Nestor, Akhilleus.

تاریخ نخستین خوانش: روز نخست ماه ژانویه سال 1973میلادی

عنوان: ایلیاد؛ شاعر: هومر؛ مترجم: سعید نفیسی؛ تهران، بنگاه ترجمه و نشر کتاب، 1334؛ در 720ص؛ موضوع: داستان جنگ تروا از نویسندگان یونان - سده 08پیش از میلاد

عنوان: ایلیاد؛ شاعر: هومر، مترجم: میرجلال الدین کزّازی؛ تهران، نشر مرکز، 1377؛ در 579ص؛ شابک 9643053865؛ چاپ دوم 1381؛ چاپ پنجم 1385؛ چاپ ششم 1387؛ شابک 9789643053864؛ موضوع: داستانهای کهن از نویسندگان یونانی - سده 08پیش از میلاد

اثر حماسی از «هومر»، شاعر نابینای «یونانی» است، داستان جنگ «تروا»، بخاطر ربودن «هلن»، ز�� زیباروی «منلاس»، یکی از فرمانروایان «یونان»، به دست «پاریس» پسر «پریام»، شاه «ایلیون (تروا)» است، خواستگاران «هلن»، باهم پیمان بسته بودند، که چنانچه گزندی به «هلن» رسید، شوی او را برای مکافات مجرم یاری دهند؛ از اینروی سپاهی بزرگ، به فرماندهی «آگاممنون»، و با حضور پهلوانانی همچون: «آشیل»، «اولیس»، «پاتروکل»، «آیاس (آژاکس) »و...؛ آراستند، و به سوی شهر «تروا» روانه شدند، تا «هلن» را از «پاریس» بازپس بگیرند؛

سپاهیان «یونان»، ده سال «تروا» را محاصره کردند، ولی با رشادتهای پهلوانان «تروا»، به ویژه «هکتور» بزرگترین پسر شاه، و برادر «پاریس»، و پشتیبانی خدایانی همچون «زئوس»، «آفرودیت»، و «آپولون» طرفی نبستند؛ در آن سالها «آشیل»، بزرگوارترین پشتوانه ی یونانیان با «آگاممنون» اختلاف داشت، جبهه را رها کرده، و در گوشه ای، به همراه یاران خویش، نبرد را تماشا میکرد؛ تا اینکه «پاتروکل» پسرعموی «آشیل»، با لباس و جنگ ابزار آسمانی «آشیل»، به نبرد رفت؛ ولی با نیرنگ «زئوس»، و دشمنی «آپولون»، و دیگر خدایان هوادار «تروا»، «پاتروکل» شکست خورد، و به دست «هکتور» کشته شد؛ «آشیل» از آن رویداد خشمگین شد، و اختلافش با «آگاممنون» را کنار بگذاشت، و پس از تشییع جنازه ی «پاتروکل»، به نبرد تن به تن با «هکتور» پرداخت، و او را شکست داد

سپس به جنازه ی «هکتور» بی احترامی روا داشت، و آنرا با خود به اردوگاه «یونانیان» آورد؛ «پریام» شاه «تروا»، به یاری خدایان، شبانه خود را به اردوگاه «آشیل» رساند، و با زاری از او درخواست کرد، که جنازه ی پسرش را به او برگردانند، تا بتواند مراسمی در خور بزرگی پهلوان حماسه ساز ترتیب دهد؛ پس از گفتگوی بسیار، «آشیل» پذیرفت؛

داستان «ایلیاد» اثر «هومر»، با توصیف سوزاندن «هکتور» در «تروا»، و به سوگ نشستن مردمان شهر، برای «هکتور» به پایان میرسد؛

در کتاب: «ایلیاد»، و همچنین در کتاب دیگر «هومر»: «اودیسه»، هرگز اشاره و سخنی از نحوه ی پایان نبرد «تروا»، و سرنوشت تراژیک «آشیل» نیست؛ داستانهای «اسب تروا»، در آثار نویسندگان «رومی»، همچون «ویرژیل»، و «اووید» آمده است، و افسانه ی رویین تن بودن «آشیل» و ماجرای پاشنه ی «آشیل» او را نیز، که به مرگش میانجامد، شاعر «رمی» سده ی نخست میلادی «استاتیوس»، در کتاب خود با عنوان: «آشیلید»، برای نخستین بار آراسته، و به آن داستان، پرداخته است

تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 28/06/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 28/05/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی

خب این کتاب هم متاسفانه با وجود اینکه همخوانی بود اما از نصف بیشتر نشده ول شد. میخواستم وقتی سه درصد خوندم ولش کنم اما خودم رو متقاعد کردم تا بیست درصد ادامه بدم ولی به ده درصد نرسیده صبرم تموم شد و رفتم سراغ خلاصه چپترها ولی اونجا هم دووم نیاوردم.
شروع کتاب اینجوریه که انگار یهو پرت میشی وسط کلاس کودکان سه ساله مهد کودک که دارن سر اسباب بازی ها با هم دعوا میکنن اما از قضا این کودکان ما درواقع فرمانروایان سرزمین‌ها و فرماندهان ارتش‌ها هستن که برای زن هایی که به غنیمت گرفتن دارن تو سر و کله هم میزنن!! بگذریم.
احتمالا این سوال برای خیلی از ماها پیش اومده که چطوری مردم تو زمان های قدیم با وجود نبود اینترنت و لوازم تفریحی دیگه حوصلشون سر نمی‌رفته؟ و خب جواب این سوال رو تو ایلیاد میتونید پیدا کنید!!! ده ساله آگاممنون کل یونان رو جمع کرده دم در تروا!! ده ساله نشستن پشت دیوارهای پریام و برنمیگردن خونه هاشون!!! آدم میمونه بخاطر سماجتشون تحسینشون کنه یا بخاطر شدت بیکاریشون بهشون بخنده؟!

For first-time readers of Homer or those wanting to check out or simply immerse themselves in the Classics canon, Robert Fagles is your man. An immensely readable and bloody account of treacherous mortals and Gods, with a fine introduction by Bernard Knox and plenty of helpful support (cast list, orientation and pronunciation).

Fagles really makes this fabulous epic sing and his translation is a marvel of scholarship and beauty. A magnificent achievement.

What can I possibly say? Truly one of the greatest works of art our species has produced, remaining profoundly moving, thrilling, philosophically rich and emotionally complex well over 2000 year later.

I have read other translations in the past but this new version from Caroline Alexander knocked my damn socks off. Pope’s version is poetry of the highest order, and was probably my favourite up till now, but the distance between it and the “original” is pretty immense. What this version lacked in poetry it made up for in immediacy, clarity and (from what I can tell from research) fidelity. Nothing felt forced, nothing too modernised and nothing too artificially antique. I would unhesitatingly recommend this translation as the new gold standard. If you have read the Iliad long ago, or only know it by reputation, or mistakenly believe it just to be lots of macho killing, or do not expect to find subtle, believable female characters inside...well...all I can say is you should give this new version (yes, the first by a woman. And, yes, that does matter) a go.

The Iliad is an epic poem created before writing was invented and likely written no later than the 7th BCE. The poem's events cover a period of 7-8 weeks of a decade-long Trojan War in which the story's character traits, namely honor, courage, skillfulness, and strength were valued above all other human qualities.

Despite the long-held beliefs that the Trojan War was purely a mythological event, the 19th-century discovery of Troy has made The Iliad to some extent an actual historical event. Nevertheless, a historical event that our poet intertwines with dramatic fictional stories fueled by a vivid imagination.

There is also a belief that "Homer" is not the name of the poet who is presumed to have written the The Iliad and that "Homer" simply means "compiler", hence, we might not know the writer's personal name but only their profession. Also, the notion of Homer being blind is difficult to believe for many due to his ability to describe external events so clearly.

Homer's characters are exceptionally religious and devoted to their gods and the gods are involved in everyday people's lives and utilize their divine powers for both good and evil. What I found interesting in the story is the belief that not only is life governed by destiny, but that one's destiny stands above the gods. Hence, destiny is what the gods submit to and are there to see that destiny is fulfilled and that nothing disturbs it.

I first began reading the English translation of The Iliad by George Chapman but soon realized it wasn't the right fit for me, so I continues with a translation in my native language and enjoyed it significantly more. I was also anticipating the event surrounding the Trojan Horse but there was no mention of it in The Iliad. Last but not least, the all-powerful and brave Achilles openly weeping over the death of his dear friend Patroclus is another confirmation that it's alright and acceptable for grown men to publicly cry.