Every year I take a deep dive into something unrelated to my primary interest in science and science fiction. This last year I compared line by line seven translations of my favorite classic: The Odyssey. No, this was not an exercise in self-flagellation! I actually enjoy the process of understanding the challenges of translation from ancient texts. Well, the literal word-for-word translation I read online was not exactly enjoyable! But of the six books in my library I can say that the results were extremely varied. Here is an example of the same line from four translations:
Fagles: “Sing to me of the man.”
Fitzgerald: “Sing in me, O Muse, and through me tell the story of the man.”
Mandelbaum: “Muse, tell me of the man of many wiles, who wandered many paths of exile.”
Rees: “Sing, O Goddess, the ruinous wrath of Achilles, Son of Peleus, the terrible curse that brought unnumbered woes upon the Achaeans and hurled to Hades so many heroic souls, leaving their bodies the prey of dogs and carrion birds.”
Here’s my take: Fitzgerald comes closest to the expressive intent while staying true to the concision of the original text. I also like Rees for the wonderful, oracular fluidity it renders to the text. It is also the most liberal of all in its departure from structure, but the benefit is clarity of the narrative while also getting some subtle and helpful cultural background. Rees is perhaps the easiest to follow for the initiate, but I consider Fitzgerald my reference point because it is truer to the structure and density of Homer’s original thought. Of the others I found Robert Fagles circuitous and vague, Richard Lattimore too congested, Mandelbaum changes too much without clarifying the narrative, and worst of all was Emily Watson, which is the only one I actually say to avoid.
The problems of translation are many: first, there are no modern language versions for many of these ancient Greek words, so many translators attempt to tag on background descriptors so the reader will understand context. Just imagine three thousand years from now how puzzled readers would be about a slang term such as “Bad Ass.” Would that mean a diseased butt? Or a recalcitrant mule?! Second, Homer uses aural alterations to reinforce and amplify the sense of action in the text, i.e. numerous “sh” words at regular intervals when talking about the waves, or numerous hard “k” consonants when talking about clashing swords in battle.
As for the story itself, I found it substantially divergent from any of the Hollywood versions I’ve seen. Most of the action scenes that film producers focus on are told here in a forlorn manner as distant memories. The real present-tense action is always with the gods and how Odysseus extols revenge on the usurpers that had overrun his homestead. The narrative style is also much different from any conversation text we hear in films. Homer has characters speak for a whole page, in long eloquent passages, which might end in a question, and then the narrative is passed along to somebody else. Very much the antithesis of our modern sound-bite short attention span society!
Bottom line: I do consider this one of the must-read classics, and I also prefer the Odyssey over The Iliad (see my separate review).