Thank you everyone for a very stimulating hour---I regret there are so many questions I couldn’t get to. Thanks again, Caroline
One of the most well-known (and scorned and ridiculed) aspects of Plato’s thought are (his character) Socrates’s prosecution of poets and poetry on the grounds of impiety and the deformations of character they inspire (especially at the end of Book III and beginning of Book IV of The Republic, returned to in summary in the first half of Book X). (Keep in mind, off the bat, the capital charges that Socrates had already been convicted of and punished for when The Republic was composed.)
At 606a-b in Book X of The Republic, Socrates makes one of his succinct capsules of the basic argument for censoring poetry (to the point of exiling poets from the republic): for the sake of popularity, (dramatic) poets stimulate pleasurable but shameful inner reactions while they, the poets, do nothing or nothing effective to educate those feelings, so that those poets cause the shameful behavior their poetry licenses by inspiration.
Many readers suppose that Plato is arguing unambiguously for a kind of religious censorship of expression—because that’s what his character Socrates is arguing for.
But, considerably less notoriously, there’s an out: at 607c-608b, Socrates allows for and even invites a defense of the value and even virtue of ‘charming’ poetry (turn the ‘page’ at Perseus by clicking the rightward arrow just above the displayed section; there are also links to the Greek version and notes alongside to the top right of each section).
Do you have any thoughts about Plato’s exiling of the poets? Is it doctrine, or provocation? In other words, how ironic—and in what ways—is this argument of Socrates’s?
To follow up on the question by philipphilip99, when translating The Iliad did you feel some passages were of a different quality or texture than the others (ie, perhaps from a different writer) and if so, was your approach to translating them to smooth over the differences, or to highlight them so readers in English could also get a feel for the idea that more than one person worked on it?
Guardian contributor I never presumed to 'edit' Homer! But yes, there are uneven passages. This relates to an earlier question about whether I found Homer nodding. The answer is yes, for example at the beginning of the problematic Book Ten, the Doloneia, which is probably Homeric but may not have been original to the Iliad. There is a very inept simile describing Agamemnon's turmoil of mind (as when he husband of Hera flashes lightning forth...so again within his breath did Agamemnon groan aloud). Very clunky. But there it is; it's part of the text, and the only thing to do is address it with the same care as one of the anointed passages---my aim was to allow it to sink or float on its own merits.
Hi, how much you find The Iliad relevant to the modern world, and in what ways?
Do you see it as a critique of masculinity, relevant today?
Does the influence of Classical literature on major thinkers and writers, such as Shakespeare, Nietzsche, Freud, Camus and many others, show that these works contain timeless, universal ‘truths’ ?
Guardian contributor No, I don't think the Iliad is a critique of these values, any more than it is "anti-war" in the modern sense of the term. I believe it sees this type of warrior ethic and war tragedy as being an inevitable part of the human condition, like mortality itself. I have military friends and have written some articles on modern military themes and I am very respectful of much of this "warrior" ethic---the desire to test oneself in the face of danger, to fight for a cause, to stand by one's buddy. Homer's genius is to pull back and believably evoke the complete war experience ---the tragedy, the blighted lives, the mourning and tears, the destruction of whole societies, as well as the warrior's dedication to fighting.
MGFMSKM’s question made me think of another one: which, if any, of all the lost works of the Epic Cycle would you most like to be discovered?
Guardian contributor Out of sheer curiosity, probably the Aethiopsis with the death of Achilles. But that said I believe Homer channelled the really great themes into his epics.
I see you’ve already been asked about a translation of The Odyssey, but what about any of the other Greek classics? I understand why Homer is probably the most interesting and exciting (and maybe even important) author to focus one’s translation skills on, but I do feel like (with some exceptions) this often leads to an unfortunate neglect of many other Greeks, at least outside expensive academic editions.
Guardian contributor I'm not sure about other authors. I love Aeschylus and Euripides, and also Catullus---but so far am content to read these authors only.
I was wondering whether Ms Alexander had always intended to translate the Iliad or did something happen during the process of researching or writing The War That Killed Achilles that gave her realise this was something she wanted to do.
Guardian contributor Both is true. I have always wanted to translate the Iliad, always known I would, although I imagined doing it much later in my life and career. Writing the War that Killed Achilles lit the fire under me.
What is your attitude to homeric epithets - translate them as they appear or omit them as a burden?
Guardian contributor I love them. I can't imagine the Iliad without them. They are the stitching that runs through the epic fabric, and they can be deeply moving. For example, when Hector runs for his life from Achilles around Troy, and one realises it is "swift-footed Achilles" in pursuit. There were times when they were awkward to work into English, but there is only one place in the epic I believe where I did not honour the epithet---I just couldn't get the grammar and cadence to work. (And I'm not saying where that one place is!)
I’ve had a go at a passage or two and found the most thrilling aspect was getting insights into a deeply foreign world sometimes missed by translators or just too damn difficult to get into English. For example in the passage about the storks and the pygmies it is very hard to get across the sense of sacrilege in the acts of the storks without adding too many words and breaking down the feeling of action. And some translators, like Fagles, sacrifice too much for fluency - he seems to think these are like two modern armies with a clear chain of command whereas they are much looser, more tribal, less coherently hierarchical. I would love to know what you discovered as you translated, or what you came to understand that you hadn’t realised before you started, even though you had probably read it many times.
Guardian contributor Although I am trained as a classicist I've been working as a free-lance writer of many unrelated topics over the past years. I consider myself as a writer first, and a classicist second. And what I came to understand was what a brilliant writer Homer was, that I was working in the shadow of a towering genius, not just someone handling an extraordinary story in an extraordinary tradition. So when I encountered any of the great scenes, of the soaring images--and I think the cranes and pygmies is a small soaring image---I backed off, so to speak, to make sure I did not impose any of my own flourishes, but just trusted Homer and deferred to Homer.
This might be rather cheeky, but there are so many English translations of the Iliad already. Why another one?
Guardian contributor Of all the modern translations few aim to stick closely to the Greek--Lattimore is the great exception. My idea of a good translation, which others may not share, is that it should stick closely to the Greek and it should evoke as much as possible the experience of reading the Greek. Mostly I did the translation because I love the Iliad and always knew I would do this; but I like to think my translation fills a niche.
Did you find yourself humming as you wrote, and if so, what sort of music?
Guardian contributor Alas, no; I'm not musical enough. But I did feel the energy, the cadence, if that makes sense. I very much knew I was working in poetry not prose.
Having been so close to it, do you think it’s the work of one author or many?
Guardian contributor I am utterly convinced it's the work of one author, with possible small interpolations here and there. This is based less on consistent vocabulary or 'epic style' as one the sense one is confronting a vision, a personal reworking of traditional material. It just feels like a very confident, assured master's voice.
I’m assuming you will have read some/many/all of the famous past editions of the Iliad, but I wanted to know if you attempted to insulate yourself from other translations while working on this edition or whether you consciously referred/contrasted your work with that of others? And why or why not?
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A second question: I’m not a translator, so I have no idea how the process really works, but I wanted to ask how you imagined your Iliad would be consumed? We discussed this a little in the Reading Group, when you created your translation where you thinking primarily about it being read, spoken or ha perhaps sung?
Guardian contributor This is a good question---yes, I was very wary of background music from readings past buzzing in my brain. Mostly I was afraid of avoiding a good word simply because it had been used. Generally I avoided reading any translation ahead of addressing any passage. Afterwards I often read out of curiosity ---and as I progressed I had the warm, secret confidence that I was holding my own. In terms of how it would be used: realistically, today, I see it being read silently, like any other book. But I did read out loud myself, all the time, to check the cadence. There is to be an audio version of the translation and I'm very much looking forward to hearing it read aloud.
Hello! I’m interested to know what your favourite passage of the text is and whether you felt any pressure when translating it?
Guardian contributor There are so very many favourite passages--think how many of the standout scenes in all literature are in the Iliad! I think my visceral favourite is Achilles' repines to the Embassy that comes begging for his return in Book 9. It's so startlingly unexpected---all convention confrontations of this time set one up to believe he will accept the long list of gifts and return covered in glory. To have him renounce not only the offer, but the whole warrior code---glory compensates for loss of life--is electrifying. Translating Achilles's speeches is sometimes like handling a flame-thrower, and this is one of those examples.
When is your Odyssey coming out?
Ummmmm----you know, I don't think I will be doing this. The Iliad has been under my skin since childhood. I love the Odyssey, but not in such a personal way.
Hello! I’m interested to know what your favourite passage of the text is and whether you felt any pressure when translating it?
There are so very many favourite passages--think how many of the standout scenes in all literature are in the Iliad! I think my visceral favourite is Achilles' repines to the Embassy that comes begging for his return in Book 9. It's so startlingly unexpected---all convention confrontations of this time set one up to believe he will accept the long list of gifts and return covered in glory. To have him renounce not only the offer, but the whole warrior code---glory compensates for loss of life--is electrifying. Translating Achilles's speeches is sometimes like handling a flame-thrower, and this is one of those examples.
Hello, my question relates to war and how, if at all, you think reading The Iliad helps to throw any light on modern conflicts?
Hello! Yes--very much so. For example, at the time of the invasion of Iraq I was reading Book 2, where Zeus mulls over the many ways in which he could turn the tide of battle against the Greeks. And the best option is to send a false dream of victory to their commander and chief. Agamemnon then wakes up raving about how he knows they will take Troy that very day. That's just one small incident. More powerful is the Iliad's overarching vision of war, or evocation of war---it's both true to the warrior ethic, and to the tragic reality of all war's aftermath.
How long did it take you to decide how to translate the Iliad’s first sentence? I really like yours - it’s such an iconic beginning that I imagine all translators must mull that sentence over for a particularly long time.
The first sentence I knew in my heart before I 'officially' embarked upon the translation. Everyone who's studied the Iliad knows how strategically placed the first word is---so I was determined to get Homer's first word first.
Join us for a live webchat with Iliad translator Caroline Alexander on 29 February at 1pm
Caroline Alexander is an author and journalist who has written for the New Yorker, Granta and National Geographic and has several books to her name. These include The Bounty: The True Story of the Mutiny on the Bounty (2004), and The Endurance: Shackleton’s Legendary Antarctic Expedition (1998). In 2009, she also published The War That Killed Achilles: The True Story of Homer’s Iliad and the Trojan War, which Tom Holland described here as “a worthy memorial to Homer’s poem: compassionate, urgent and unfailingly stimulating”.
Most recently, Alexander has translated the Iliad, which has to be the literary equivalent of climbing Everest. I’m also tempted to reach for another metaphor and suggest that wrestling with Homer must sometimes feel a bit like taking on Achilles himself – an almost impossible task, yet also the ultimate test … But she’ll be able to tell you her feelings about that on Monday 29 February at 1pm, when she joins us for a live webchat.
There are many other questions to ask about the decisions you have to make in translating ancient and revered poetry, the challenges of ancient Greek – and the joys. I’m also hoping that she will make a case for the importance and benefits of classical education in the 21st century – but again, let’s see how things unfold.
She will be here from next Monday - but do get a question in early by posting in the comments below.
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I take Plato's fear as a great tribute to the power of poetry. In an era when there were no broadsheets, no radio, no tv, no media, poetry served to entertain and to disseminate opinions---a very dangerous mix. Plato is labouring away in the cause of higher reason, while one good song or poem can tumble one's wits and heart. When I lived and worked in Malawi, President Hastings Banda directed that many traditional songs, such as those women would sing while pounding maize, should be 're-worded' with political praise for him....he was clearly keenly aware of the power of ungovernable song!