An Italian Homer

You may recall my passion for, and many versions of, Homer, and the debate about translation, originally started by Harriet Devine.  I recently saw an excellent review of Alessandro Baricco’s An Iliad, and had to add it to my collection.  Even before you open the covers, it’s an interesting challenge:  he writes in Italian, so this is translated twice, not once; it is - quite unusually - by a novelist, not a poet (he is the author of the successful Silk, which I have not read but which Cornflower liked and reviewed); finally, it is not, as the title indicates, a literal or faithful translation, it is not the Iliad, just one of a number of possible Iliads.  Indeed, as soon as you start to read, it is obvious that there are real differences between this and the original.

The story is told in simple, direct language; it is easily read and is immediate and appealing.  Baricco arranges his material in short chapters, each narrated by a different person, on both sides of the war, Trojan and Greek, high and low.  Many of the great discursive features of the original are dispensed with, including the long analogies, the extensive histories of individuals and of things.  Each chapter is a tiny whole, an episode, but builds a strong overall narrative – suitable for the Iliad, which itself is only the story of a brief moment in a ten year war.  Baricco has, apparently, eliminated the Gods from immediate action – they do not appear in the battle or cause miracles – but they are not expunged entirely.  Greeks pray to Zeus and Athena, and there are references to fate, destiny, when the gods are directly invoked by Homer.  There is a clear concentration on the human themes – jealousy, pride, fear, regret and the desire to return home – and this makes the story very accessible and dilutes the epic quality of the story somewhat.  Finally, this is a short account – fewer than 150 spacious, well laid-out pages, compared with the Rieu Penguin translation, the standard prose version, with its solid 437 pages.

The overall effect is compelling, direct, and uncompromising.  The death and the blood is very stark, and it’s sometimes hard to remember the countervailing qualities of honour, skill, loyalty.  It is uncompromisingly clear that the Trojans and Greeks were fighting for something we could not go to war about, the possession of a single beautiful woman.  But the last words go to Odysseus, sacker of cities, famed for his strength and his cunning – and they are words of sorrow, uttered through tears.

Comments

[dovegreyreader]

I love Baricco and I was very smitten with this translation of The Iliad,all based on my sad and woeful lack of useful knowledge on myth.I emerged with a real feel for the whole thing.