Homer
The Iliad
translated by Anthony Verity
(Oxford University Press, 2010)
[Sample
from the Opening of the Poem]
SING, goddess, the anger* of Achilles, Peleus’ son,
the accursed
anger which brought the Achaeans countless
agonies
and hurled many mighty shades of heroes into Hades,*
causing
them to become the prey of dogs and
all
kinds of birds; and the plan of Zeus was fulfilled.
Sing
from the time the two men were first divided in strife—
Atreus’
son,* lord of men, and glorious Achilles.
Which
of the gods was it who set them to quarrel and fight?
The
son of Zeus and Leto,* for he was bitter against the king, and
roused
an evil plague through the camp, and the people went on dying, 10
because
the son of Atreus had dishonoured his priest Chryses.
This
man had come to the swift ships the Achaeans to
redeem
his daughter, bringing a boundless ransom and holding
in
his hands the woollen bands of Apollo who shoots from afar,*
fixed
to a golden staff. He entreated all the Achaeans, but 15
especially
the two sons of Atreus, marshals of the people:
‘You
sons of Atreus, and you other well-greaved Achaeans,
may
the gods who have their homes on Olympus grant
that
you sack the city of Priam and return safely home.
Only
release my dear child, and accept his ransom, and 20
show
reverence to Zeus’ son Apollo who shoots from afar.’
Then all the rest of the Achaeans shouted
their approval, that
they
should be in awe of the priest and accept the splendid ransom,
but
this found no favour in the heart of Atreus’ son Agamemnon;
he
sent Chryses roughly away, and added a harsh command: 25
‘Let me not discover you, old
man, beside our hollow ships,
either
dawdling here now or returning again later,
in
case your staff and the god’s bands prove no help to you.
I
will not let the girl go; before I do, old age will find her
in my
house in Argos, far from her fatherland, going 30
back
and forth at the loom and serving me in my bed.
Go,
do not provoke me; this way you will return unharmed.’
Anthony
Verity organizes the text of his translation of the Iliad on as close an approximation to the Greek lineation as
possible and strives “to use a straightforward English register and to adhere
closely to the Greek, allowing Homer to speak for himself.” He further states
that his text “does not claim to be poetry.” It’s just as well he makes that
clear, because, although the text is divided up so that it looks like poetry,
most of the time it reads like fairly standard prose arbitrarily (and often
awkwardly) carved up to match the Greek line numbers, without any regard for a
more or less regular rhythm or line length.
In his introduction, Verity talks a
good deal about Homer as a poet and offers us the following advice: ““Rather
than looking for the poet of the Iliad, then, it seems more fruitful to
look for the poet in the Iliad.” That being his recommendation,
it does seem curious that his text is constantly reminding us that, while
Homer’s original text is a poem, this Iliad
is an extremely prosaic offering—not much sense of a poet lurking in these
lines. His scrupulous fidelity to Homer is not, by itself, sufficient to
deliver “the poem’s directness and power,” at least not consistently,
especially in the speeches. I really don’t know why Verity didn’t simply offer
us a prose translation (with appropriate line references to the Greek text, if
necessary). After all, producing a text that looks like a poem but simply
ignores some of the basic requirements of a poetic style runs the risk of
constantly disappointing the reader’s legitimate expectations.
For some
lengthier reviews of Verity’s Iliad,
consult the following: Economist, Open Letters
Monthly.
For a more
extensive preview of Book One of Verity’s translation, please consult the
following link: Verity Iliad.
[List of
Published English Translations of Homer’s Iliad
and Odyssey]