Troy: The epic battle as told in Homer’s Iliad. Гомер
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effectively the prequel to The Odyssey. These two works form the foundation for subsequent Greek culture – society would use them as points of reference and guidance, in the same way that many have used the testaments of the Bible to instruct their way of life. So it was that Homer’s poems became manuals for appeasing the gods and living peaceful and fruitful lives in Ancient Greece.
As for Homer himself, it is a matter of considerable contention between Classical scholars as to whether he ever existed and when. There is very scant evidence available, so it seems likely that he may be a mythical figure, an old father time, grandfather to the nation. As a result any literary works of significance were attributed to him, simply because it was impossible to know who the real author or authors were. As there was a great oral tradition of story telling in Ancient Greece, it is more likely that the epic poems were developed and refined over generations by many orators. Perhaps a politician realized their worth as pedagogic texts and ordered scholars to document them for that very purpose. Or perhaps a master orator, or rhapsode, had them documented, so that his apprentices could travel to different regions of the Greek empire and recite the exact same texts.
The Iliad
The central focus of The Iliad is on the Greek Warrior Achilles and the anger he feels at the Trojans and those individuals who have wronged him. A combination of fact, myth and legend, the poem tells of the Trojan War, set within the walled city of Troy and surrounding area. Homer celebrates war in his depiction of characters, suggesting that their competence or bravery on the field is what deems them as worthy or respectable. The realities of war are apparent in his gruesome descriptions and he seems to support the notion that glory on the battlefield is preferable to family life and love.
The Odyssey
The central character in The Odyssey is the eponymous Odysseus. The story is epic in its scope and describes the many heroic deeds and adventures of Odysseus as he attempts to find his way home after the Trojan War. One of the major themes of the work is the play-off between the human qualities known by the Ancient Greeks as me-tis and hubris. In simple terms me-tis is best described as intelligence and common sense or cunning and guile. Hubris, on the other hand, is excessive pride and self-confidence. In essence they are opposed traits – the perfect individual needs to have a measured balance of both in order to avoid failure in whatever life throws at them. The original meaning for the term nemesis was the punishment meted out to those who displayed excessive defiance of the gods, which could result from an imbalance of these qualities.
The poem is also fundamentally about the human sense of belonging and homecoming, a theme ubiquitously familiar to all people and one that echoes throughout the poem as Odysseus finds himself in a huge variety of different situations in his quest to return home to his wife and son.
The quarrel between Agamemnon and Achilles—Achilles withdraws from the war, and sends his mother Thetis to ask Jove to help the Trojans—Scene between Jove and Juno on Olympus.
Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans. Many a brave soul did it send hurrying down to Hades, and many a hero did it yield a prey to dogs and vultures, for so were the counsels of Jove fulfilled from the day on which the son of Atreus, king of men, and great Achilles, first fell out with one another.
And which of the gods was it that set them on to quarrel? It was the son of Jove and Leto; for he was angry with the king and sent a pestilence upon the host to plague the people, because the son of Atreus had dishonoured Chryses his priest. Now Chryses had come to the ships of the Achaeans to free his daughter, and had brought with him a great ransom: moreover he bore in his hand the sceptre of Apollo wreathed with a suppliant’s wreath, and he besought the Achaeans, but most of all the two sons of Atreus, who were their chiefs.
“Sons of Atreus,” he cried, “and all other Achaeans, may the gods who dwell in Olympus grant you to sack the city of Priam, and to reach your homes in safety; but free my daughter, and accept a ransom for her, in reverence to Apollo, son of Jove.”
On this the rest of the Achaeans with one voice were for respecting the priest and taking the ransom that he offered; but not so Agamemnon, who spoke fiercely to him and sent him roughly away. “Old man,” said he, “let me not find you tarrying about our ships, nor yet coming hereafter. Your sceptre of the god and your wreath shall profit you nothing. I will not free her. She shall grow old in my house at Argos far from her own home, busying herself with her loom and visiting my couch; so go, and do not provoke me or it shall be the worse for you.”
The old man feared him and obeyed. Not a word he spoke, but went by the shore of the sounding sea and prayed apart to King Apollo whom lovely Leto had borne. “Hear me,” he cried, “O god of the silver bow, that protectest Chryse and holy Cilla and rulest Tenedos with thy might, hear me oh thou of Sminthe. If I have ever decked your temple with garlands, or burned your thigh-bones in fat of bulls or goats, grant my prayer, and let your arrows avenge these my tears upon the Danaans.”
Thus did he pray, and Apollo heard his prayer. He came down furious from the summits of Olympus, with his bow and his quiver upon his shoulder, and the arrows rattled on his back with the rage that trembled within him. He sat himself down away from the ships with a face as dark as night, and his silver bow rang death as he shot his arrow in the midst of them. First he smote their mules and their hounds, but presently he aimed his shafts at the people themselves, and all day long the pyres of the dead were burning.
For nine whole days he shot his arrows among the people, but upon the tenth day Achilles called them in assembly—moved thereto by Juno, who saw the Achaeans in their death-throes and had compassion upon them. Then, when they were got together, he rose and spoke among them.
“Son of Atreus,” said he, “I deem that we should now turn roving home if we would escape destruction, for we are being cut down by war and pestilence at once. Let us ask some priest or prophet, or some reader of dreams (for dreams, too, are of Jove) who can tell us why Phoebus Apollo is so angry, and say whether it is for some vow that we have broken, or hecatomb that we have not offered, and whether he will accept the savour of lambs and goats without blemish, so as to take away the plague from us.”
With these words he sat down, and Calchas son of Thestor, wisest of augurs, who knew things past present and to come, rose to speak. He it was who had guided the Achaeans with their fleet to Ilius, through the prophesyings with which Phoebus Apollo had inspired him. With all sincerity and goodwill he addressed them thus:—
“Achilles, loved of heaven, you bid me tell you about the anger of King Apollo, I will therefore do so; but consider first and swear that you will stand by me heartily in word and deed, for I know that I shall offend one who rules the Argives with might, to whom all the Achaeans are in subjection. A plain man cannot stand against the anger of a king, who if he swallow his displeasure now, will yet nurse revenge till he has wreaked it. Consider, therefore, whether or no you will protect me.”
And Achilles answered, “Fear not, but speak as it is borne in upon you from heaven, for by Apollo, Calchas, to whom you pray, and whose oracles you reveal to us, not a Danaan at our ships shall lay his hand upon you, while I yet live to look upon the face of the earth—no, not though you name Agamemnon himself, who is by far the foremost of the Achaeans.”
Thereon the seer spoke boldly. “The god,” he said, “is angry neither about vow nor hecatomb, but for his priest’s sake, whom Agamemnon has dishonoured, in that he would not free his daughter nor take a ransom for her; therefore has he sent these evils upon us, and will yet send others. He will not deliver the Danaans from this pestilence till Agamemnon has restored the girl without fee or ransom to her father, and has sent a holy hecatomb to Chryse. Thus we may perhaps appease him.”
With these words he sat down, and Agamemnon rose in anger. His heart was black with rage, and his eyes flashed fire as he scowled on Calchas and