Today on Project Gutenberg: "The Iliad"

Today on Project Gutenberg, we have...

The Iliad by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler

That's right, the time has come to crack open one of the oldest and most important works in the entire Western literary canon. Are you able to spare about a decade of your time?

Actually, let's clear up that misconception right off the bat. Despite what you may believe, Homer's Iliad does not cover all the events of the decade-long Trojan War. Unlike its more famous counterpart the Odyssey, the events taking place here unfold over a period of just twenty-two days. But packed into that short timeframe is an epic tragedy that's endured for thousands of years. It's a tale of heroism and glory, hubris and rage, gods and kings clashing on battlefields. But most of all, it's a story about flawed men and the brutal human cost of war.

For the uninitiated, let me provide you with a little background context. The Iliad is an ancient Greek poem dating back to the 8th century BCE, attributed to the mythical blind poet Homer. It describes events related to the Trojan War, a conflict believed to have taken place four to five centuries earlier, in the late Bronze Age. The legend of the war is as follows: Paris, a prince of Troy (a city-state in what is now Turkey) wins the favor of the goddess Aphrodite, and with her help, he seduces Helen, queen of Sparta, and steals her away from her husband Menelaus. In response to this insult, Menelaus and his brother Agamemnon, king of Mycenae, rally all the Greek city-states to raise an army and wage war upon the Trojans. Thus begins a decade-long siege of the city in which most of the heroes on both the Greek and Trojan side are killed. The whole thing finally ends when the Greeks manage to infiltrate Troy via giant wooden horse and burn the place to the ground, which pisses off the gods so much that most of the remaining characters don't survive their return voyages. Then there's that poor bastard Odysseus, but that's another story.

The Iliad takes place in the final weeks of the conflict and centers on a dispute between Agamemnon and Achilles, the greatest warrior in the Greek army. Achilles is so offended by Agamemnon's mistreatment of him that he refuses to fight in the war any longer. To show support for Achilles and punish the Greeks for slighting him, Zeus swings the war effort in the Trojans' favor. As a result, many Greek soldiers are killed in the subsequent battles, and the army as a whole is forced back to its ships. The fighting gets so bad that Achilles's dearest companion, Patroclus, finally decides to enter the battlefield himself wearing Achilles's own armor—an act that gets him slain by the Trojan prince Hector. Overcome with grief and rage at the death of Patroclus, Achilles avenges him by killing Hector in a duel, despite knowing this deed is fated to bring about his own death. But Achilles is so utterly broken by losing Patroclus that the revenge brings him no satisfaction: he spends the next several days unable to do anything except drag Hector's corpse behind his chariot. Only when Hector's father, Priam, begs for permission to bury his son does Achilles return to his senses and allow the Trojans to properly mourn their dead leader.

Numerous English translations of the Iliad exist, the earliest dating back to 1598. Most of these translations are rendered in poetic verse, though the exact form of said verse has always varied by translator. But when the English novelist Samuel Butler decided to have a go at the material, he took a decidedly different approach. His Iliad is presented in straightforward prose and modern language ("modern" here meaning the 1890s). He says this is "for the use of those who cannot read the original." The intention here is therefore to make the Iliad more accessible to ordinary readers of Butler's time. Now you don't have to read Ancient Greek to understand the story, and you don't need to know what dactylic hexameter is, either.

Of course, readers of today who are unaccustomed to Victorian vernacular might still find the text dense and intimidating. Part of this comes from the fact that the Iliad itself is just like that: it stretches across twenty-four sections, or "books," and much time is devoted to simply listing the names of soldiers and commanders or telling you how many ships each leader is in charge of. It's easy to get bogged down in the text, and although Butler's translation is designed to help solve that problem, the problem never quite goes away. There's still a lot of overly long description and antiquated dialogue.

That said, Butler's Iliad is still a widely read text; it was actually the first version of the poem to be added to Project Gutenberg. That's because it does its job of capturing what makes the Iliad so remarkable. The reader is thrust into the middle of a messy and dramatic conflict in which would-be allies can't stand each other and the gods of Olympus themselves have become a house divided. It's compelling stuff! And from there, you are led on this journey that's all about exploring the true meaning of heroism, the terrible cost of war and what pieces of themselves these characters give up in pursuit of the glory they seek. Take Achilles, for example. He's a character deeply concerned with his own honor, particularly the honor he achieves in battle. He persists in chasing his idea of honor even though he knows for a fact it will lead to his untimely death, for Fate has decreed it that way:

“My mother Thetis tells me that there are two ways in which I may meet my end. If I stay here and fight, I shall not return alive but my name will live for ever: whereas if I go home my name will die, but it will be long ere death shall take me."
(Book 9)

In his mind, and in the minds of the poem's original audience, sacrificing his chance to go home is the price Achilles pays for the much greater reward of eternal glory. But with all the rage burning inside him and the destruction that he brings down upon Greeks and Trojans alike with his pride, it's easy for readers to wonder if he really made the right choice.

Although Achilles is the character who receives the most focus in the Iliad, he is not necessarily the story's hero. The character with the most conventional heroic qualities is actually Hector, the guy leading the fight against the Greeks. While the Greek commanders are mostly out to plunder and destroy their enemies, Hector's goals all revolve around protecting his immediate family and the people of his city. The story also ends with Hector's funeral, and his death is treated as a breaking point for both sides in the war. Hearing Priam lament the loss of his sons is what finally prompts Achilles to empathize with the Trojans and bring a temporary end to the fighting.

"I had fifty sons when the Achaeans came here...and Hector, him who was alone left, him who was the guardian of the city and ourselves, him have you lately slain; therefore I am now come to the ships of the Achaeans to ransom his body from you with a great ransom. Fear, O Achilles, the wrath of heaven; think on your own father and have compassion upon me, who am the more pitiable, for I have steeled myself as no man yet has ever steeled himself before me, and have raised to my lips the hand of him who slew my son.”

Thus spoke Priam, and the heart of Achilles yearned as he bethought him of his father. He took the old man’s hand and moved him gently away. The two wept bitterly—Priam, as he lay at Achilles’ feet, weeping for Hector, and Achilles now for his father and now for Patroclus, till the house was filled with their lamentation. But when Achilles was now sated with grief and had unburthened the bitterness of his sorrow, he left his seat and raised the old man by the hand, in pity for his white hair and beard; then he said, “Unhappy man, you have indeed been greatly daring; how could you venture to come alone to the ships of the Achaeans, and enter the presence of him who has slain so many of your brave sons? You must have iron courage: sit now upon this seat, and for all our grief we will hide our sorrows in our hearts, for weeping will not avail us."
(Book 24)

It's moments like these which reveal the depth and complexity of the Iliad and why it remains such an important story today. I'm not sure I would automatically recommend Butler's translation to modern readers, since it is over a hundred years old and the language may be a barrier for some people. But if you're comfortable with the older language and you want to get a taste of what this epic is all about, this version would be a decent place to start.

And that's what we found today on Project Gutenberg. See you next time!
—Dana