Review of Barry B. Powell's Translation of Homer's Odyssey

There is one place in book eight that was confusing. Odysseus gives Demodokos a prime cut of meat, but the herald hands him a lyre. The other translations have the word gift, not sure how Powell got lyre there, but it is obviously supposed to be that gift of meat from Odysseus.

I'm a little put off by the typos and grammar gaffs in both the translations of this and The Iliad. And the indicators of nonexistent footnotes.

Since, overall, this is an excellent translation, I was able to overlook these picayune matters. I don't think I will actually purchase this or The Iliad until later editions when I'm hopeful the typos, etc., will be fixed. I don't buy the excuse that editors are busy. They can afford to hire proofreaders. And, how did all the early reviewers miss those things that I stumbled over and nearly came to a full stop at?

This is a wonderful translation and does deserve a place among the other modern/contemporary translations. Because of that, it also deserves a better job on the editing. Who is culpable here? The publisher? The translator? The editor? I guess I'm not finished....

It just is beyond my small intellectual capacity to understand how such an important book (couple of books, actually) can be released in such a state. It's like letting the king go out in his underclothes. We're floored by the intimacy of those things; we expect majesty; we expect royal robes worthy of the office. Even if these translations are for modern readers, we expect spelling and grammar fit for the work.

Even if it was not Homer, how hard is it to get someone to proof the thing? Would you send your children out to school in rags? I think some in our day would.

Okay, I'm finished with my rant.

Review of Barry B. Powell's Translation of Homer's Iliad

I'm overwhelmingly grateful that Barry B. Powell did not use the word 'careering' in his translation of Homer's Iliad. That word jarred me all through a previous translator's translation (name withheld to protect my own backside). It is an ugly, unfortunate word which in my mind wars against its very definition. It was like riding with a driver who slams heavily on the brakes at every stop: annoying and exhausting. Perhaps I'm overreacting, but this is my review, so I think that is my prerogative. Right? Well, anyway, back to Powell's welcome translation.

Apart from a few typos (The funniest is when 'gods' is put in for 'dogs' in book 24 line 402, which makes it sound like the gods eat humans. Wrong religion, I think.) and at least one place where a footnote is indicated but nonexistent (22.327: 'knees'), and a few notes which a quick glance at a few other translations would solve -- (the most troublesome example is book 24 lines 44-46. Here Powell translates the Greek αιδως as 'respect,' which I think really only works in it's old connotation, i.e. and e.g. the phrase from the King James Bible: "God is no respecter of persons" (Acts 10.34). In that way, i.e. respecting another's opinion of you can cause harm. (For a more thorough look at this idea, read: Bertrand Russell's The Conquest of Happiness, where he writes: "... the respect of their neighbors depends upon their possession of a good car and their ability to give good dinners....") The other translations I looked at chose to use 'shame,' which makes it more evident how it can harm as well as help.) -- this is a wonderful translation. It is easy to read and the copious notes make it a valuable addition to any Homeric geek's bookshelf.

There are several places, marked in the text by a speaker icon, which are read by the author. These recordings can be found at the book's website. Unfortunately, this feature is not mentioned in the actual book; I had to dig around online to figure it out. It would have been quite easy to mention it in a footnote, or in the introduction. I can only assume that this was another overlooked and forgotten footnote. Still, I haven't listened to the recordings, so ...

I am partial to Lattimore's translation, but find Powell's enjoyable and refreshing; if that can be said about such a bloody and violent work. I try not to let those themes keep me from the other, more interesting and pertinent themes for our time. A new translation of Homer's Iliad only serves to show the continued importance of this classic. Of course, as usual, not everyone will agree with that. That's okay. Without the strife of disagreement, the friction necessary for growth would be missed.

I plan to reread and reread Powell's wonderful translation. I hope you will read it at least once and decide for yourself if you like it or not.

What is Love, Really?

The word love is thrown around, misused, abused and often misunderstood.  One of my biggest pet peeves, for example, has to do with one of the most popular uses of the word: i.e. "We made love."  It makes me crazy because people say it even when love, per se, is not involved.  Why must they use the word euphemistically?  Why can't they just say, "We had sex"?  I won't go on that rant just yet...  I'll save it for the post I do on eros (ἔρως); whenever that is.  

I would like to look at the types of love (more in a moment) in different ways and in different places: literature, symbols, ritual, sacred writings, spiritual/mystical writings, philosophy, and many, many more!  Yeah, that might happen.

I am not a Christian, but I have, over the years, thought many times about a sermon^[*] I heard once (when I was Christian): the subject was the types of love: agape (ἀγάπη), philia (φιλία), storge (στοργή) and eros (ἔρως).  It was one of my favorites and it keeps coming back to me.  It's just a good topic; the world needs love, of whatever kind, right?  True love, I believe is about commitment: this is apropos with regard to any of these types of love.  All of them come down to being committed to the other person.  Anyone that's not you is an other (I guess I shouldn't open that topic here), so commitment is necessary.

After deciding I wanted to dwell on the subject of love for a few, I searched for, found and am currently reading C. S. Lewis’s book, The Four Loves, which covers this topic; I'll try to quote from it from time to time and hope that others find it as interesting as I do.  

What really interests me in this study is that “storge” (στοργή) is not in the New Testament.  I searched The Analytical Lexicon to the Greek New Testament ^[1], The Complete Vocabulary Guide to the Greek New Testament ^[2], and Strong's Exhaustive Concordance ^[3]; none of them have it.  So, I thought that perhaps it was a Platonic word, being that much of Christian doctrine was merged with Plato’s philosophy during the Middle Ages. 

Doing a little search online, I found that the word “storge” (στοργή) was used eight times by Flavius Josephus in his Antiquitates Judaicae (Antiquities of the Jews).  A tie is held, as far as usage goes, by Aelian, whose work I don’t know, but it is also used eight times in his De Natura Animalum (On the Nature of Animals).  Next, it is used six times by John of Damascus, of whom I also know nothing, in his Vita Barlaam et Joasaph (The Life of Barlaam and Joasaph). 

Several others, including Aristotle in his Metaphysics, use the word four or fewer times.  It is interesting that it is not in Plato, but is in a few of the early Church fathers: Saint Basil, Bishop of Caesarea, Epistulae (Letters), John of Damascus, mentioned already, Eusebius in his Historia ecclesiastica (Church History).^[4]  So, here, I guess, with the early Church fathers we can see how it eventually made it to us.  There is the possibility that we could have acquired this word, as “affection,” from Josephus, but it is most likely that it came through the Church doctrines which have not changed all that much over the centuries, even if there have been major splits and disagreements among the various sects of Christianity during that time.

This makes me want to intensify my Greek and Latin studies…. 

Maybe I'll look at storge (στοργή) in my next post (which most likely will be in December), then work my way through the others and hopefully learn something along the way.  These may come slowly.  That sounds confident, doesn't it?  Anyway, please don't hold your breath waiting for the next post on this topic. 

Also, I want to be very frank here: I am going to participate in the NaNoWriMo challenge during the month of November, so right now I have nothing planned to post during the month.  I may post something, but I don't plan to.  And, I may not even do an entire series on love, but will sporadically post about it.  As I do with everything, right?  Like I said, don't hold any breath.  An interest hits me and I run.  Sometimes, the interest is sustained, other times, it's not.  

Till next time ... 

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[*] This sermon was given by Mike Beecham.

[1] William Mounce

[2] Warren Trenchard

[3] James Strong

[4] http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/resolveform?type=start&lookup=storgh&lang=greek and: Word frequency information for στοργή:  http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/wordfreq?lang=greek&lookup=storgh%2F

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Agamemnon Part II – Silencing the Voice of the Victim

In the first part of this series on Aeschylus' Agamemnon, I wrote that I would continue with the consequences of Agamemnon's choices, which are foretold and are included in the first chorus. Well, I am not going to write about that—this time.

Instead, I want to look at antistrophe 6, which begins, “And then—but I beheld not, nor can tell, / What further fate befell:”  According to Gil Bailie in his Violence Unveiled, this closing of the eyes, this being silent about the horror, “virtually defines myth.”[1] In other words, he says that if a person’s eyes are open they will not see myth, but truth.  Then, he goes on to equate truth with gospel.  He discusses the word aletheia, which is the Greek word for truth, and then sneaks the word gospel in beside it.

Gospel, however, comes from the Anglo-Saxon for good spell, which in turn comes from the Greek word euangelion. Euangelion means good message. A good message does not automatically provide evidence of veracity. There are many good messages that are complete fiction, but that does not make them bad, or even untrue. Bailie is confusing the denotation of the word myth, with its connotation. It has come to mean something that is not true, and is usually used to refer to the belief systems of other people. In attempting to make his argument, he tries to make "truth" equate to "gospel" and thus remove any hint of myth from the Christian religion. This makes sense in light of what Bailie is up to. But, Joseph Campbell points out that all myths are true in their context. There is only a problem when the myth and the symbols connected with it are transplanted. The myth then becomes strange and all sorts of glosses and commentaries become necessary in the attempt to explain away that strangeness.

Myth is not untruth, even if that is the connotation now attached to the word; rather, it is not-completely-revealed truth. We have to be careful that we do not immediately think this signifies half-truth. It does nothing of the sort. The Bible itself ends with a book named "The Revelation," or if you think it should be the Greek transliteration—Apokálypsis, which means the unveiling. If gospel and truth are the opposite of myth, in Bailie's terms; that is, if gospel equals truth and myth equals not-truth (or even hidden or secret truth), then what is revealed in "The Revelation of St. John?" So, I propose that the meaning of the Greek word mythos can still contain much of the Christian religion, because much of that religion is hidden or secret.

Bailie discusses interesting thoughts about violence and they ways in which humans deal with it. Unfortunately, he is too busy trying to prove that Christianity is not a mythology, and thus misses many opportunities to question truly and honestly the causes and consequences of violence. He comes down hard on the Greek tragedians, but they are able to show violence without showing it. This is part of their genius. The writers of the Hebrew and Christian texts have to settle for writing blatant descriptions of the details of the violence, because they are incapable of doing otherwise. This has nothing to do with myth or truth. It is merely the styles of writing of different cultures. Yet, Bailie insists that Aeschylus' use of "I beheld not, nor can tell" makes the entire thing the opposite of gospel truth.

In the Greek tragedies, violence is unveiled without being graphic. The emotions of those involved in the action are more important, because those emotions draw in the audience, and in this way, they arrive at the catharsis.[2] To borrow from the Hebrew Scriptures, the idea is that of the prophet Nathan who says to King David, "You are the man." Readers cannot connect with that as easily as they can when the story comes at a slant. In other words, to watch or read about an innocent person suffering, and being given cues and clues to the emotions and thoughts of those causing that suffering, lets the audience know that in every human there is both good and evil.[3] And, although I would like it to be untrue, sometimes the evil comes out on top, as in the case of Agamemnon sacrificing Iphigenia. Not only could that be considered evil, but consider all the evil that followed as consequence of it.

Agamemnon is a fine example of what happens when we trust superstitions (of any sort), rather than what we know to be right, true and good in our own hearts/minds. The human conscience can be a beautiful or a deadly thing, depending on perspective.

It is also a mistake to assume that Greek tragedy equals Greek mythology. Tragedies do include mythology, but they are not it entirely. The Greeks had no Bible, per se. They learned of their gods and goddesses by watching dramas and listening to travelling bards, but these only contain aspects of the mythology needed to tell the story. Most of the stories are human stories. Mythology proper, on the other hand, relates to deities and the people of those deities, and how those people do or do not keep the deities' laws, and the consequences—whether good or bad. That sounds mighty close to religion. Here, we arrive at another tangle of words, and the debates and discussions have been and will be going on for more years than I care to know.

I am looking at the Greek tragedies in terms of humanity and humanness, not in terms of their metaphysical truth or lack thereof. In other words, what can we—as humans—take home from this work of literature or drama? What overarching themes do these works contain that will help me be a better father, husband, leader, follower, or simply a better human being?
Image of Iphigenia from here.

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[1] Gil Bailie, Violence Unveiled: Humanity at the Crossroads, (New York: Crossroad PC, 2004). 33.
[2] For more on catharsis, see Aristotle's Poetics.
[3] I do not attempt, here, to define these two terms philosophically or theologically. Good and evil are concepts that have spawned many discussions and wars and every other kind of disharmony, disunity and contention. I use these terms in their most basic sense.

Agamemnon Part I – Blood is Thinner Than Honor

Aeschylus’s play, Agamemnon, begins with a watchman waiting for the time “When shall stream up the glow of signal-flame, / the bale-fire bright, and tell its Trojan tale— / Troy town is ta’en:”  (48).  From the viewpoint of the Trojan war, this play begins at the end.  But, with strophe I, after the first chorus, it returns to the beginning.  The chorus gives us some background, setting and the amount of time that has passed since the Achaeans have gone to war in Ilion. 
Aeschylus, in the antistrophe I, after the first chorus, takes us further back, takes us to the time when the sons of Atreus and the Greeks were waiting to sail for Troy.  Then, the fateful omen of the birds and its interpretation.  The omen, which is contained the antistrophe I and the epode, says, basically, that Agamemnon has to offer his daughter, Iphigenia, as a sacrifice to get the wind blowing so the ships can leave.  But, it also clearly says that revenge will fall on his head! 
Now, right there Agamemnon should have said, “You know what, Menelaus, you can go after your two-timing wife yourself, because this whole thing sounds like a really messed up deal for me and mine.” 
But, blood is thinner than honor.  Agamemnon, like all the other Greek leaders, had made an oath to help Menelaus retrieve Helen should she be “kidnapped.”  That’s not in this play, but it is convenient that it was there.  I have a sneaking suspicion that it was added later as a way of reconciling the idiocy of all the Greek city-states (or clans or whatever you want to call them) going to war just to get back an adulterous woman.  The oath makes it a matter of honor, not to mention there is the opportunity for power and for glory.  So, Agamemnon becomes a monster:

And so he steeled his heart—ah, well-a-day—
   Aiding a war for one false woman’s sake,
          His child to slay,
   And with her spilt blood make
An offering, to speed the ships on their way!

That's just abhorrent.  Agamemnon struggled with this!  A father slays an innocent child—and his own innocent child, at that—to get back an adulterous slut!  Aeschylus is nice and merely calls her a “false woman.”  That name is too kind and I could call her much worse than I have, but I will refrain for my readers’ sake. 
It seems I have given away what is happening in this play up to antistrophe 6 (after the first chorus).  This drama is Aeschylus’s way of dealing with choices.  He is facing the idea of choices and, as we will see later, investigating the outcomes and consequences of the choices that people make.  War is a choice.  The agreement made with Menelaus to help get Helen back is not contained here, so Aeschylus’s immediate and contemporary audience must have been familiar with it, or else some of the action would seem strange.  It seems strange anyway.  Agamemnon sacrifices his daughter because some guy tells him that is what the two eagles doing their feeding dance in the sky means, and because he has his honor to uphold.  That being said, Agamemnon still had a choice.  He chose honor over Iphigenia.  He chose power over the love of his family.  He chose his brother’s wrecked marriage with a whore wife over his own marriage.
The concept of choice, consequence and outcome is an important one in much of Classical Literature, and  we will encounter it again later, when we’re looking at the Iliad, so it is important to keep in mind.   Honor, power and glory are also very important concepts which I will try to remember to look at as I come to them.
Near the end of the first chorus, the consequences of Agamemnon’s choices are already foretold, and with that I will continue next time.

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As a reminder, I am reading E. D. A. Morshead’s translation of Agamemnon from Seven Famous Greek Plays, edited, with introductions, by Whitney J. Oates and Eugene O’Neill, Jr.