The Iliad
musings by
Diane cook
The fundamentals of this ancient Greek epic poem are widely known (albeit with some aspects of history and authorship still debated):
That it was written in or around the eighth century BCE.
That it is attributed to Homer, who may have been an individual poet, or a succession or assortment of poets.
That in Homer’s time, The Iliad – written in dactylic pentameter, which aids a natural cadence for expressions of emotion – would have been performed or at least orated in public rather than read in private, and likely accompanied by a score written for the lyre.
That it depicts the final 50-odd days of the tenth year of the Trojan War in the late Bronze Age; the war may or may not have been fought in reality by Achaean (Greek) and Trojan soldiers (of Troy, a city then in Asia Minor, on a site now in the Republic of Türkiye), triggered by the Spartan queen Helen’s flight from Sparta to Troy with the Trojan prince Paris – whether by choice or abduction (in myth, due to the meddling of the goddess Aphrodite) – and her husband Menelaus’ rabid determination to have her back.
That it centres on the actions and psyche of the Achaeans’ most lauded, skilled and truculent warrior, Achilles.
That the capricious gods of ancient Greece hold sway frequently over the leading players and the machinations of battle, to conflicting aims and no good end.
'...such is the power of the Greek language that to know even a little of it is to know that there is nothing more beautiful in the world.’
That whilst rage, hubris and violence drive actions both tragic and shocking, honour, sincere self-reflection and human decency have their shining moments. And love and beauty have their place.
That The Iliad remains a cornerstone of Western literature, its themes and its observations of the human condition (social, political, ontological) remaining
powerfully resonant.
That this ongoing resonance is rooted in the timeless beauty of the poem’s language and enargeia (vividness, or as defined by the British poet Alice Oswald, ‘breathless, unbearable reality’).
Natalie Haynes' novel A Thousand Ships, which gives eloquent voice to women victimised yet relegated to obscurity if not invisibility by men (and gods) during and after the Trojan War - not to mention a plethora of male writers and critics. (Her compressed version of The Iliad in an episode of her BBC podcast is equally erudite, and frequently hilarious).
Alice Oswald's 'excavation of The Iliad", Memorial, a haunting lament for 200 soldiers who meet their deaths in Homer's original, delineating the horrible toll of men's perceived heroism and striving for kleas (imperishable glory).
Derek Walcott’s epic poem Omeros, in which the St Lucian writer presents three interwoven narratives exploring ‘an everyman Homer’ (per Mary Lefkowitz in the New York Times), Homeric literature and notions of history, in the context of colonialism.
Christopher Logue’s revisioning –War Music: An Account of Homer’s Iliad – a ‘brilliant, vaulting, rabid volume’, per Sarah Crown in the Guardian; sadly left unfinished due to the writer’s death in 2011.
Emily Wilson's long-anticipated, almost universally lauded 2023 translation of The Iliad, which retains the power and spirit of the original partly by using a compatible metre [for English] - iambic pentameter. Simply extraordinary. Try reading aloud, as Homer intended and as this translation immediately invites; see Professor Wilson's website for a generously detailed pronunciation guide.
Robert Fagles' 1990 translation, regarded by many critics and readers as the liveliest English translation of the century, for its vigour, elegance and retention of Homeric nuance even as it embraced contemporary turns of phrase. If an audio version is of interest, try Penguin's 2006 edition, read by Derek Jacobi and Maria Tucci.
Daisy Dunn’s article for the British Museum on the identity of Homer is an illuminating read that charts the conversation about the provenance of what we call Homeric literature; for a longer version, see her Ladybird Expert Book, simply titled Homer.
The late Cy Twombly’s exhibition ‘Fifty Days at Iliam’, first shown at the Philadelphia Museum of Art in 1978 and featuring ten large paintings based on the artist’s reading of Alexander Pope’s early eighteenth-century translation of The Iliad.
A step away from The Iliad, but well worth investigating, is Romare Bearden’s 'A Black Odyssey’, a series of collages and watercolours that conceived links between ancient Greek literature and African-American culture, referencing Homer’s Odyssey.
Stefan Hagel’s remarkable improvisations of Homeric music, based on 35 years’ research; in accompaniment to his singing of verses from The Iliad, he plays a kithara (a seven-stringed lyre-like instrument), using archaic Aeolian tuning.
Musician and classicist Joe Goodkin’s alternative folk album, The Blues of Achilles, which retells The Iliad in 17 songs written from the perspective of some of its key characters, and based on his readings and experiences playing music for US war veterans.
