/lit/ - Literature

>>15236644

>>14619683
I read the Odyssey again more recently so it's easier to give examples from there. In general, Homer unifies the beauty of nature with the cruelty of man, he writes of fame, the passing of time, the honor of warriors, the courage of defeat, of destiny and doom, love that goes beyond the body, hate that comes from the soul. He has a wisdom that can come only from experience. I love the small details in the Odyssey for example, the incidental moments, Odysseus falling asleep in the bottom of the boat despite going through all hell, and it is described as "the sleep of death" or "A deep sleep unto death," or when Elpenor, the youngest member of the crew, climbs to the roof on Circe's island, drunk, to better see the stars, and the next morning falls and breaks his neck. His poetry is different than say, someone like Shakespeare or even Dante. He doesn't go overboard, he affords everything only the attention and specificity that it deserves.

2 of my favorite pieces of poetry, one from the Iliad, one from the Odyssey
>‘So, friend, you die also. Why all this clamour about it?
Patroklos also is dead, who was better by far than you are.
Do you not see what a man I am, how huge, how splendid
and born of a great father, and the mother who bore me immortal?
Yet even I have also my death and my strong destiny,
and there shall be a dawn or an afternoon or a noontime
when some man in the fighting will take the life from me also
either with a spearcast or an arrow flown from the bowstring.’
So he spoke, and in the other the knees and the inward
heart went slack. He let go of the spear and sat back, spreading
wide both hands; but Achilleus drawing his sharp sword struck him.

>The sun rose on the flawless brimming sea
into a sky all brazen—all one brightening
for gods immortal and for mortal men
on plowlands kind with grain.

>1st translation:
So, friend, you die also. Why all this clamour about it?
Patroclus also is dead, who was better by far than you are.
Do you not see what a man I am, how huge, how splendid
and born of a great father, and the mother who bore me immortal?
Yet even I have also my death and my strong destiny,
and there shall be a dawn or an afternoon or a noontime
when some man in the fighting will take the life from me also
either with a spear cast or an arrow flown from the bowstring.
So he spoke, and in the other the knees and the inward
heart went slack. He let go of the spear and sat back, spreading.
wide both hands; but Achilles drawing his sharp sword struck him.
beside the neck at the collar-bone, and the double-edged sword.
plunged full length inside. He dropped to the ground, face downward,
and lay at length, and the black blood flowed, and the ground was soaked with it.

>2nd translation:
Come, friend, face your death, you too.
And why are you so piteous about it?
Patroclus died, and he was a finer man
by far than you. You see, don't you, how large
I am, and how well-made? My father is noble,
a goddess bore me. Yet death waits for me,
for me as well, in all the power of fate.
A morning comes or evening or high noon
when someone takes my life away in war,
a spear-cast, or an arrow from a bowstring."
At this the young man's knees failed, and his heart;
he lost his grip upon the spear
and sank down, opening his arms. Achilles
drew his sword and thrust between his neck
and collarbone, so the two-edged blade went in
up to the hilt. Now face down on the ground
he lay stretched out, as dark blood flowed from him,
soaking the earth.

>3rd translation:
Come, friend, you too must die. Why moan about it so?
Even Patroclus died, a far, far better man than you.
And look, you see how handsome and powerful I am?
The son of a great man, the mother who gave me life
a deathless goddess. But even for me, I tell you,
death and the strong force of fate are waiting.
There will come a dawn or sunset or high noon
when a man will take my life in battle too flinging a spear perhaps
or whipping a deadly arrow off his bow."
At that
Lycaon's knees gave way on the spot, his heart too.
He let go of the spear, he sank back down...
spreading both arms wide. Drawing his sharp sword
Achilles struck his collarbone just beside the neck
and the two-edged blade drove home, plunging to the hilt and down on the ground he sprawled, stretched face first
and dark blood pouring out of him drenched the earth.

>>12859526
try me bitch

>>12650866
This thread is about to be blessed with my superior taste. Multiple covers incoming.

ITT: We talk about our favorite translations, lines, sections, and books from the Iliad, the greatest epic poem ever written.