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“The Iliad” begins with the word “mēnin,” or the wrath of gods, which Emily Wilson renders in her new translation as “cataclysmic wrath.” This wrath kindled the Trojan War, caused innumerable deaths, led to endless outcries of loss, and preserved this ancient tale. Now, Wilson revives this intense mixture of rage, grief, and horror, bringing it closer to modern readers through her translation.
Emily Wilson, a British-American classicist, translator, and Professor of Classical Studies at the University of Pennsylvania, is the first woman to translate both “The Odyssey” and “The Iliad” into English. With her 2017 translation of “The Odyssey,” Wilson quickly gained acclaim for writing with accessible English diction and the representation of the musical quality of Homeric poetry with iambic pentameter. Her new translation of “The Iliad” likewise refrains from the inflated and archaic language that previous translators, such as Robert Fagles, preferred. Homeric poems were meant to be recited orally and performed to music by a bard; the audience should readily comprehend the poem and feel its emotions. Ultimately, Wilson’s accessible translation accomplishes this feat of allowing modern readers to experience Homeric poetry as the ancient would have.
While “The Iliad” is a poem of wrath and heroism, it also is one of war, death, and loss. In the second book, which Wilson titles “The Multitude,” she beautifully and poignantly reconstructs a Homeric simile when describing the ranks of soldiers, ready to fight and die: “A multitude assembled / among the meadow flowers by Scamander, / as many as the flowers and leaves in spring.”
This scene presents the calm before the storm, the deathly silence before the cacophony of swords clashing and clinking. Upon this idyllic stillness stands “a multitude,” a swamp of nameless, faceless soldiers facing their impending judgment of death or glory. “A multitude” groups the soldiers into an ambiguous collection of people, giving the readers a possibility to imagine their distinctive stories.
A successful translation of an ancient text into a modern language also relies on connecting the ancient context to contemporary times. While it is standard for Homeric heroes to risk their lives for individual glory — kléos — this desire to be remembered posthumously may no longer be the sole reason for modern warfare. At the heart of the text lies themes that, despite a gap of almost three millennia, continue to be relevant: the human feeling of loss and mourning, the tragedy of a mother witnessing the death of her son, or the sorrow in burying a dear friend. Wilson exquisitely captures this thread of sadness and loss with her translation. Instead of directly describing the characters’ mourning, Wilson works to portray their emotions through actions. Upon hearing the Trojan women wailing, Andromache runs to the wall and sees Hector, her husband and a Trojan hero, dead, being dragged before the city wall.
Wilson stays close to the metaphoric Greek text, writing: “Then black night veiled her eyes. She toppled backward, / and breathed her spirit out.” Readers are no longer told that a woman faints; they instead become the woman who, upon this horrendous sight, sees nothing but darkness, breathes out nothing but her own heartbreak.
In addition to conveying emotion, Wilson masters the poetic language with her use of meter and English literary devices. During Patroclus’s funeral, the Greeks wail together: “Wet was the sand and wet their arms and armor / with tears because they missed their friend so much.” Wilson starts these two lines of iambic pentameter with an unexpected trochee, emphasizing how the soldiers’ tears have drenched all that is around them. The alliterations of “w” and “a” create more visual and audio repetition and emphasis. In her translator’s note, Wilson agrees that “no translator, including her, can fully replicate all the poetic, dramatic, and emotional effects of the Greek.” However, she has certainly come close to offering a precise, performative, poignant, and present translation.
Translating and modernizing “The Iliad” is an extremely difficult feat. Wilson’s translation includes some strange colloquial terms that feel out of place in a modern context. As she recognizes in the translator’s note, Wilson tries to render colloquialism in a less “slangy” manner. However, some insults simply do not have a non-comical modern rendition. For instance, Achilles calls Agamemnon “you dog-face” at the beginning of the epic. While the phrase is a direct translation of the Greek text, this insult feels facetious in a serious argument between the two. Similar colloquialisms appear frequently in the epic, most of which make little sense in a modern English context.
Ultimately, Wilson’s translation of “The Iliad” is a bold but successful innovation. By translating not only the Greek text but also the cultural context, Wilson makes this ancient tale readable, enjoyable, and, most importantly, relatable.
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