The Iliad
A New Prose Translation
by Martin Hammond
London 1987

[Selection from the Opening of the Work]

The Anger of Achilleus

Sing, goddess, of the anger of Achilleus, son of Peleus, the accursed anger which brought uncounted anguish on the Achaians and hurled down to Hades many mighty souls of heroes, making their bodies the prey to dogs and the birds’ feasting: and this was the working of Zeus’ will. Sing from the time of the first quarrel which divided Atreus’ son, the lord of men, and godlike Achilleus.

Which of the gods was it who set these two to their fighting? It was the son of Zeus and Leto. In anger at the king he raised a vile plague throughout the army, and the people were dying, because the son of Atreus had dishonoured Chryses, his priest. Chryses had come to the fast ships of the Achaians to gain release for his daughter, bringing with him unlimited ransom, and holding in his hands the sacred woollen bands of Apollo the far-shooter, wreathed on a golden staff. He began to entreat the whole bod of the Achaians, but especially the two sons of Atreus, the marshals of the army. ‘Sons of Atreus, and you other well-greaved Achaians, may the gods who live on Olympos grant you the sacking of Priam’s city and a safe return to your homes. But release my dear child to me, and accept this ransom, in reverence for the son of Zeus, Apollo the far-shooter.’

Then all the other Achaians shouted their agreement, to respect the priest’s claim and take the splendid ransom. But this was not the pleasure of Agamemnon’s heart, the son of Atreus. He sent him shamefully on his way, with harsh words of command: ‘Old man, let me never find you by our hollow ships, either dallying here now or coming back again in future—or you will have no protection from your god’s staff and sacred bands. As for the girl, I shall not release her. Before that, old age will come upon her in our house, in Argos, far from her own country, where she will work at the loom and serve my bed. No, away with you: do not provoke me, if you want to return in safety.’

So he spoke, and the old man was afraid and did as he was ordered. He went in silence along the shore of the sounding sea. And then when he had gone a far way off, the old man prayed long to lord Apollo, the child of lovely-haired Leto: ‘Hear me, lord of the silver bow, protector of Chryse and holy Killa, and mighty lord of Tenedos, Smintheus. If ever I have built a shrine that is pleasing to you, if ever I have burnt for you fat-wrapped thigh-bones of bulls and goats, grant this my prayer: may the Danaans pay for my tears with your arrows.’

So he spoke in prayer, and Phoibos Apollo heard him. Down he came from the peaks of Olympos with anger in his heart, the bow on his shoulders, and the enclosing quiver. The arrows clattered on the shoulders of Apollo in his anger, as the god himself rushed down: and his coming was like night. He settled then at a distance from his ships, and let fly an arrow: and there came a fearful twang from the silver bow. First he attacked the mules and the quick-running dogs: but then he sent his sharp arrows at the men themselves, and kept shooting them down. And constantly there burned, close packed, the pyres of the dead.

REVIEW COMMENT

Hammond’s translation is generally clear and very accurate (and thus useful for anyone who needs a handy crib for translating Homer from the Greek). But the prose is, I find, curiously inert, conveying little of the dramatic tension and excitement of the poem (a characteristic that is bad enough in the descriptions and the similes, but disastrous in the speeches). Hammond seems at times to have a tin ear and little sense of the effect of his word choice (e.g., his fondness for the word blatherskate).

Those seeking a modern prose translation of the Iliad can do better than this.

For a more extensive preview (in Amazon) please use the following link: Hammond Iliad

[List of Published English Translations of Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey]