As decades go by, the "classic" novel has become more of an idea than a hard, cold piece of writing we want to engage with. The idea being that these long-lasting and highly esteemed texts belong in a classroom setting as they’re often deemed "lengthy" and require critical thinking to understand. However, this idea has tainted the beauty that lies in classic literature if we only dared to actually read it. Language is an ever-evolving thing. Therefore, the way a classic reads in the current time might be a bit tough to get into the groove of, but after a few pages, you’ll begin to understand their way of speaking and then begin to find themes and feelings that have haunted humans since the beginning of time.
Although not a novel, Homer’s The Odyssey is one of the oldest works of narrative fiction, structured as an epic poem spanning 24 books, and it remains one of the most well-known classics to this day. Given its old age, there have been many translations from the original Ancient Greek. Picking one from over 60 known English translations may seem like a daunting task; however, here lies the opportunity for you to choose the one that fits your reading style best to get the most out of it.
Here, we would like to highlight three translations: Emily Wilson’s in 2018, Robert Fagles’s in 1996, and Robert Fitzgerald’s in 1963.
For the most part, people in my life who have read Homer, whether The Iliad or The Odyssey, have done so for school. In such cases, Fagles’s translation has been the most popularly taught in schools across the U.S. due to its more contemporary language while still encapsulating the grandeur of the traditional poem.
Wilson’s 2018 translation is the first full translation into English by a woman, and it’s the version Christopher Nolan is basing his movie adaptation on the big screen. Apart from her deliberate word choices, especially regarding female characters that have been previously described through a patriarchal lens, Wilson translated The Odyssey in iambic pentameter, which makes it more accessible to readers who are used to this rhythmic pattern in English poetry.
Now, on to the one that convinced me that everyone should read this book: Robert Fitzgerald’s 1963 translation.
When I think of the word "epic", what immediately comes to mind is something massive and impressive on a huge scale rather than a long poem or genre. To me, Robert Fitzgerald's translation of The Odyssey is epic. After being assigned to read a few of the books in this translation for a college course, I started asking my close friends and family if they knew how good The Odyssey was. It was then that I realized I had fallen victim to the modern notion of classic literature, that even as a Theatre major who’s familiar with the spectacular nature of Ancient Greek tragedies, I was expecting to have to "push" through said books before my seminar. Instead, I was faced with pages filled with wonder and adventure that were only magnified by the language used by Fitzgerald.
The poetic language transcends the confines of traditional sentence structures through imagery and rhyme. Therefore, it mainly evokes a feeling that then drives the narrative. We first know of Odysseus through the eyes of those he left behind -- his wife and now grown son -- and his guiding goddess, Athena, who then guides his son, Telémakos, to look for evidence that he’s still alive and trying to get home. From this journey to the flashbacks -- Odysseus recounts of all the creatures and gods he faced, ones that caused him great grief over many men and much time -- the story is very captivating because, beneath all the thrilling action of fighting monsters and navigating the cruel sea, lies a deeper truth about human nature.
The Odyssey is filled with mythical characters and grand wars that make it one of the most epic ever told, but in the journey to find the way home, we learn what it means to be human. Odysseus is a mortal man with no superhuman strength or ability. Yet he is praised for being a fearless leader, one with values and intelligence, capable of ending wars. He is, however, flawed like any other man who falls into ruin due to temptation and ego. But overall, he is just a man who wants to go home. All of the stories, all of the victories, they are meaningless if he can’t get back to the ones he loves, to the place that gives him purpose. And it is through this realization that I was appeased with Christopher Nolan’s film adaptation, which will be released next month.
As a Nolan fan, I was incredibly excited for the new film to come out, but now that I’ve read the book, it’s astonishing to think about how he managed to condense so much into the screen. If anyone can do it, it’s him. But with the devil in the details and the sheer amount of stories told to and by different characters, I think you’d be doing yourself a disservice by only experiencing The Odyssey through cinema. If I were to describe The Odyssey with cinematic references, I would call it a love child between Moana and Gladiator. It is an epic for a reason, and if you’ve engaged with more modern Greek mythology books such as Madeline Miller’s Circe or The Song of Achilles, you’ll find The Odyssey easy to love. Still, if you have put off reading it and are "waiting for the movie to come out," we highly recommend digging into it even after seeing the film. I think it’s about time we stop the rhetoric assuming that classic literature is bound to be boring and unreadable, because the more you read it, the more you realize it has stood the test of time for a reason.
