by Homer
40.The “Homeric” Hymn to Delian Apollo also perpetuates this tradition: “Think of me in future, if ever some long-suffering stranger comes here and asks, ̔O Maidens, which is your favorite singer who visits here, and who do you enjoy most?’ Then you must all answer with one voice . . . ‘It is a blind man, and he lives in rocky Chios: all of his songs remain supreme afterwards.’” M. L. West, Homeric Hymns. Homeric Apocrypha. Lives of Homer. (Cambridge, Mass., 2003) vv.166ff. page 85.
41.On the Homeric Question, see Robert Fowler, “The Homeric question,” in The Cambridge Companion to Homer, ed. Robert Fowler (Cambridge, 2004), 220–32.
42.Parry’s legacy is most accessible in a single volume collection of his papers: Adam Parry, ed., The Making of Homeric Verse: The Collected Papers of Milman Parry (Oxford, 1997); due to the necessarily technical nature of his work, non-specialist readers may find these landmark papers more complex and obscure than rewarding. More suitable for the general reader is Albert B. Lord, The Singer of Tales (Cambridge, Mass., 1981). A more extensive bibliography can be found in the Further Reading section at the end of this translation.
43.For an overview of typical scenes and how they are adapted in the epics, see Mark W. Edwards, The Iliad: A Commentary; Volume V: Books 17–20 (Cambridge, 1991) 11ff.
44.1:458–68; repeated at 2:421ff. and adapted at 7:316ff.
45.This overview of the evolution of the Greek alphabet and its relationship to hexameter verse closely follows Barry B. Powell, Homer (Oxford, 2007), 17 and 35ff.
46.6.168–69.
47.For scribal dictation, see Powell, Homer, 37ff.; and Mary R. Bachvarova, “CTH 767.7—The Birth Ritual of Pittei: Its Occasion and the use of Luwianisms,” in Mouton et al., ed., Luwian Identities, 145ff.
48.Quotations from 4.14–18 and 4.543–44.
49.Paraphrased from Trevor Bryce, Life and Society in the Hittite World (Oxford, 2004), 98.
A NOTE ON THE TRANSLATION
This translation is based upon the Greek text prepared by Martin L. West and published in two volumes by Teubner between 1998 and 2000. An editor compiles the text of any ancient work of literature by collating all surviving ancient examples and citations. In the case of the Iliad, over 1,500 manuscript and papyrus fragments dating from the third century B.C. to the fourteenth century A.D., together with considerable ancient scholarly commentary and quotations, have all to be consulted. The preparation of a new text of the Iliad, then, represents an extraordinary act of sustained and dedicated scholarship.
Despite the antiquity of the Iliad’s textual (as opposed to oral) transmission, the Greek text we use today is virtually the same as the “official” text compiled and approved by the great scholars of the Alexandrian library, in Egypt, by around 150 B.C.—a remarkable fact, given the many opportunities for editorial interference over the centuries. Despite this stability, there are numerous places in the poem where the textual tradition offers different choices for a particular word, phrase, or even line. An editor’s task is to determine which of the competing choices is attested by the most reliable sources—a decision often informed by surviving comments and decisions of ancient editors addressing the same puzzle.
The edited, published Greek text indicates those places where such a decision was made. The editor denotes, for example, whole verse lines that appear to be later interpolations, often lines “borrowed” from other parts of the poem and repeated for effect. Verses that appear “suspect” but cannot satisfactorily be disproven, are bracketed but retained. An editor omits entirely verses for which the evidence of interpolation is strong. In this translation, following West, verse numbers indicate those places where such lines have been omitted, as in Book 1, where verse 264 is directly followed by verse 266. Since new evidence, chiefly in the form of papyrological fragments, continually comes to light, Greek texts published decades apart will subtly differ.
My approach has been to render a line-by-line translation as far as English grammar allows; my translation, therefore, has the same number of lines as the Greek text and generally accords with the Greek lineation. I have tried to carve the English as close to the bone of the Greek as possible. The translation is in unrhymed verse, with a cadence that attempts to capture the rhythmic flow and pacing, as well as the epic energy, of the Greek, and which like the Greek varies from verse to verse. It is meant to follow unforced rhythms of natural speech.
I have given all major proper names in their Latin-based anglicized form: Thus Athena, not Athene; Achilles, not Akhilleus; Mycenae, not Mykenai. This decision is based upon my object in making the text as accessible as possible to the English-language reader, for whom familiarity with the centuries-old (technically incorrect) transliterations is a great asset. Minor characters and place-names of less familiarity, however, are rendered as in the Greek—in this practice I share the inconsistency of many a translator!
A few notes on general pronunciation. I have used a dieresis (¨) to indicate where adjacent vowels are to be pronounced as distinct syllables rather than a diphthong; so “Briseïs” is pronounced Bri-see-is. Similarly “–aa” is pronounced as two syllables; thus, “Danaans” is Dan-a-anz. Final “e” is sounded as a long syllable, so “Ariadne” is pronounced A-ri-ad-nee.
A few other points of terminology: Homer’s Greeks are called Achaeans, Argives, and Danaans. Similarly the Trojans are also called Dardanians. The two warriors with the name Ajax (Aias in the Greek) are frequently referred to in the Greek dual form, a feature preserved with the phrase “the Aiantes.”
Notes on obscure mythological references can be found at the end of the poem.
GEOGRAPHY OF THE ILIAD
1.ILIÁDOS A
Wrath—sing, goddess, of the ruinous wrath of Peleus’ son Achilles,
that inflicted woes without number upon the Achaeans,
hurled forth to Hades many strong souls of warriors
and rendered their bodies prey for the dogs,
for all birds, and the will of Zeus was accomplished;
sing from when they two first stood in conflict—
Atreus’ son, lord of men, and godlike Achilles.
Which of the gods, then, set these two together in conflict, to fight?
Apollo, son of Leto and Zeus; who in his rage at the king
raised a virulent plague through the army; the men were dying10
because the son of Atreus dishonored the priest Chryses.
For he came to the Achaeans’ swift ships
bearing countless gifts to ransom his daughter,
holding in his hands on a golden staff the wreaths of Apollo
who strikes from afar, and beseeched all the Achaeans—
but mostly the two sons of Atreus, marshalers of men:
“Sons of Atreus and you other strong-greaved Achaeans,
may the gods who have homes on Olympus grant you
to plunder the city of Priam, and reach your home safely;
release to me my beloved daughter, take instead the ransom,20
revering Zeus’ son who strikes from afar—Apollo.”
Then the rest of the Achaeans all shouted assent,
to respect the priest and accept the splendid ransom;
but this did not please the heart of Atreus’ son Agamemnon,
and violently he sent him away and laid a powerful warning upon him:
“Let me not find you, old man, near our hollow ships,
either loitering now or coming again later,
lest the god’s staff and wreath not protect you.
The girl I will not release; sooner will old age come upon her
in our house, in Argos, far from her homeland,30
pacing back and forth by the loom and sharing my bed.
So go, do not make me angry, and you will return the safer.”
Thus he spoke; and the old man was afraid and obeyed his word,
and he went in silence along the shore of the tumultuous sea.
And going aside, the old man fe
rvently prayed
to lord Apollo, whom lovely-haired Leto bore:
“Hear me, God of the silver bow, you who stand over Chryse
and Killa most holy, you whose might rules Tenedos,
God of Plague; if ever I roofed over a temple that pleased you,
or if ever I burned as sacrifice to you the fatty thighbones40
of bulls and of goats—grant me this wish:
May the Danaans pay for my tears with your arrows.”
Thus he prayed, and Phoebus Apollo heard him,
and set out from the heights of Olympus, rage in his heart,
with his bow on his shoulders and his hooded quiver;
the arrows clattered on his shoulders as he raged,
as the god himself moved; and he came like the night.
Then far from the ships he crouched, and let loose an arrow—
and terrible was the ring of his silver bow.
First he went after the mules and sleek dogs,50
but then, letting fly a sharp arrow, he struck at the men themselves,
and the crowded pyres of the dead burned without ceasing.
Nine days the shafts of the god flew through the army,
and on the tenth Achilles summoned the people to assembly;
the goddess of the white arms, Hera, put this in his mind,
for she was distressed for the Danaans, since she saw them dying.
And when they were gathered together and assembled,
Achilles of the swift feet stood and addressed them:
“Son of Atreus, I now think that, staggering back,
we shall go home again—if we escape death that is—60
if after all war and plague alike are to rout the Achaeans;
but come—let us ask some seer, or priest,
or even an interpreter of dreams, for a dream, too, is from Zeus,
who may tell us why Phoebus Apollo is so greatly angered,
if perhaps he faults our vows and sacrifice,
and whether receiving the burnt fat of sheep, of goats without blemish,
he may somehow be willing to avert our destruction.”
Thus Achilles spoke and sat down. Then stood among them
Calchas the son of Thestor, far the most eminent of bird-seers,
who knew things that are, and things to come, and what had gone before,70
and had guided the ships of the Achaeans to Troy,
through his divination, which Phoebus Apollo gave him.
He in his wisdom spoke and addressed them:
“O Achilles, dear to Zeus, you bid me state the reason
for the wrath of Apollo, the lord who strikes from afar.
Then I will speak, but you listen closely and swear an oath to me
that in good earnest you will stand by me in word and strength of hand;
for I well know that I will anger a man who
has great power over the Argives, and whom the Achaeans obey.
For a king has the upper hand, when he is angered with a base-born man;80
if he does swallow his anger for that day,
yet he also holds resentment for later, until he brings it to fulfillment,
within his breast. You now declare whether you will protect me.”
Then answering him Achilles of the swift feet spoke:
“Take courage, and speak freely of any omen you know;
for by Apollo beloved of Zeus, to whom you, Calchas,
pray when you reveal the gods’ omens to the Danaans,
no man while I live and see light upon this earth
will lay heavy hands upon you by the hollow ships—
none of all the Danaans, not even if you speak of Agamemnon,90
who now makes claim to be far the best man in the army.”
And then the blameless priest took courage and spoke:
“It is not with prayer, nor with sacrifice that he finds fault,
but for the sake of his priest, whom Agamemnon dishonored,
and did not release his daughter, and did not accept the ransom—
for that reason the god who shoots from afar has sent these sufferings, and will send yet more;
nor will he drive this foul plague away from the Danaans
until we give back the dark-eyed girl to her dear father
without price, without ransom, and lead a holy sacrifice
to Chryse; propitiating him in this way we might persuade him.”100
Thus speaking he sat down; and then rose among them
the warrior son of Atreus, wide-ruling Agamemnon,
greatly distressed, his darkening heart consumed with rage,
his eyes like gleaming fires.
Glaring, he first addressed Calchas:
“Prophet of evil, never yet have you spoken anything good for me,
always to prophesy evil is dear to your heart.
You have never spoken nor yet accomplished any good word;
and now you speak in assembly of the Danaans, declaiming god’s will—
that for this reason, you say, the Archer who shoots from afar causes their affliction—110
because I was not willing to accept his splendid ransom
for the girl Chryseïs, since I greatly desire to have her
at home; for I prefer her to Clytemnestra,
my wedded wife, as she is not inferior to her,
not in figure or bearing, nor even in disposition or handiwork.
Yet, even so, I am willing to give her back—if this is for the best.
I wish my men to be safe rather than perish.
But make ready another prize at once, so that I alone
of the Achaeans am not unrecompensed, since that is not fitting.
For all of you are witness that my own prize goes elsewhere.”120
Then answered him swift-footed, godlike Achilles:
“Most honored son of Atreus, of all men most covetous of possessions,
how then can the great-hearted Achaeans give you a prize?
We do not know of any great common store laid up anywhere,
but those things we carried from the cities, these have been distributed—
and it is not fitting to go about gathering these things again from the men.
But no, relinquish the girl to the god now; we Achaeans
will pay you back three times, four times over, if ever Zeus
gives us the well-walled city of Troy to plunder.”
Then answering him spoke powerful Agamemnon:130
“Do not in this way, skilled though you be, godlike Achilles,
try to trick me, for you will not outwit nor persuade me.
Or do you intend—while you yourself have a prize—that I just sit here
without one—are you ordering me to give the girl back?
No, either the great-hearted Achaeans will give me a prize
suited to my wishes, of equal value—
or if they do not give one, then I myself will go and take
either your own prize, or that of Ajax, or I will
take and carry away the prize of Odysseus; and whomever I visit will be made angry;
but, we shall consider these things later.140
For now, come, let us drag one of our dark ships to the bright salt sea,
and assemble in it suitable rowers, and place the sacrifice in it,
and take on the girl herself, Chryseïs of the lovely cheeks;
and let there be one man in command, some man of counsel,
either Ajax or Idomeneus, or noble Odysseus,
or you, son of Peleus, most terrifying of all men,
you might reconcile to us Apollo who works from afar, and perform
the sacrifice.”
Then looking at him from under his brows swift-footed Achilles
spoke:
“O wrapped in shamelessness, cunning in spirit—
how can any man of the Achaeans obey your words with good heart,150
to jo
urney with you or join men in violent battle?
For it was not on account of Trojan warriors I came
to wage battle here, since to me they are blameless—
never yet have they driven off my cattle, or my horses,
nor ever in Phthia, where the rich earth breeds warriors
have they destroyed my harvest, since there is much between us,
both shadowy mountains and clashing sea.
But we followed you, O great shameless one, for your pleasure,
to win recompense for Menelaos and for you, dog-face,
from the Trojans; none of this do you pause to consider or care for.160
And now you boast you will personally take my prize from me,
for which I suffered much hardship, which the sons of the Achaeans gave me!
Never do I receive a prize equal to yours when the Achaeans
sack some well-settled city of the Trojans;
it is my hands that conduct the greater part of furious war,
yet when it comes to division of the spoils
yours is the far greater prize, and I bearing some small thing, yet also prized,
make my way to my ships, wearied with fighting.
Now I am going to Phthia, since it is far better
to go home with my curved ships, and I do not intend170
to stay here dishonored, hauling up riches and wealth for you.”
Then Agamemnon lord of men answered him:
“Run, then, if your spirit so moves you. Nor will I
beg you to stay here for my sake. Other men stand by me,
who will pay me honor, and especially all-devising Zeus.
You are most hateful to me of the kings cherished by Zeus;
always contention is dear to you, and fighting and battles.
If you are so very powerful, a god doubtless gave this to you.
Go home with your ships and your companions—
be lord of the Myrmidons; of you I take no account,180
nor do I care that you are angered. But I promise you this:
As Phoebus Apollo robs me of Chryseïs,
whom I will send away, on my ship, with my companions—
so I will take Briseïs of the pretty cheeks,
yes, your prize, going myself to your hut, so that you will discern