Some further thoughts on the Iliad and the Odyssey

1/ As I’m too ignorant—I don’t even read Greek—to wade into the debate over whether the Iliad and the Odyssey were written by the same person, I’m just going to treat them like they were, and compare them. The Iliad is thick with epic similes (especially in Book 11); the Odyssey has some extended similes but most of the similes are in single phrases. The Iliad has a straightforward narrative; the Odyssey has a much more interesting structure, with jumps, flashbacks, story-within-a-story, etc. The Iliad is more like War and Peace, having hundreds (or 1000?) of characters and focusing on several main characters; the Odyssey is more like Don Quixote, following the main character(s) and moving from one set of characters to another. Both are foundational works of Western literature; both are great; both are subtle and sophisticated. 

As for the main characters, Akhilleus (better known as Achilles) and Odysseus are both vividly alive, both complex characters (now that I’ve “met” them, Harold Bloom’s idea that Shakespeare “invented the human”—whatever that means—is even more absurd). I would even say that Akhilleus and Odysseus are two of the greatest characters I’ve come across in literature: Akhilleus, as he returns to battle because of Patroklos, turns himself into a killing machine, merciless and indifferent to human mortality, but regains his humanity in the final chapter, as he meets Priam and comes to understand the value of human lives and relationships; Odysseus is multi-faceted and full of contradictions, and more interestingly, he’s a storyteller and an actor, transforming himself like a Shakespearean character. 

The funny thing about reading classic literature and going back to the foundation is that once in a while some books feel old, but some feel astonishingly fresh. For instance, when I trace back to (some candidates for) the first English novels, Pamela and Joseph Andrews feel a bit crude (compared to the peaks in the 19th century) and Robinson Crusoe feels very much like a relic of the past, but the first modern novel, Don Quixote, is still sophisticated and dazzlingly inventive. The Iliad and the Odyssey are fresh, and it’s extraordinary that they’re about 2700 years old. 

2/ I recently watched The Return, a retelling of the Odyssey. 

In theory, I don’t mind filmmakers taking liberties with the source material (after all, lately I’ve been enjoying the 1930s loose adaptations of Frankenstein and Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde). The Return has an interesting idea: if we strip the Odyssey of mythology and remove all the gods—and imagine “the real Odysseus”—then why did Odysseus wander for 10 years instead of going home? The answer of the film is that he’s haunted by war and unable to face everyone out of shame for returning alone. That is no Homer, but the idea is fine and Ralph Fiennes is magnificent in the role. 

However, as The Return emphasises the anti-war message, it consequently changes the nature of the relationship between Odysseus and Telemachus, and between Odysseus and Penelope. And the problem with the film is that it reduces Telemachus to a one-dimensional twat, unlikeable, extremely unpleasant to both his father and mother; it also reduces Penelope to a “bleeding heart” in the final scenes, which is even more disappointing because up till that point, Juliette Binoche was very good as Penelope. 

The more I think about it, the more I dislike it. 

Not particularly hopeful about the Christopher Nolan film that’s coming out next year either.  

3/ I’m currently reading An Odyssey: A Father, a Son and an Epic by Daniel Mendelsohn, a book about the author’s eighty-one-year-old father enrolling in his Odyssey seminar at university, and about their relationship. Daniel Mendelsohn also released his own translation of the Odyssey this year. 

It’s quite a good book to read after Homer, especially because I don’t know Greek and he explains some of the Greek in the poems.