Never too late: how I came to finally read The Odyssey
My love of books began when I was a child, too young to even read. I loved the way a book felt in my hands when I held it, and I loved the look of the words on the page—even though I couldn't read, I knew the words were something important. I especially liked library books with their mylar covers. The mylar cover elevated the book to a higher level of importance. Our parents were paying attention and took us on outings, usually on Friday evenings, to our municipal public library. We also had a book mobile that parked in our school parking lot one Friday afternoon each month. When I was around age twelve, my parents purchased an encyclopedia set for their many kids. It was a cost they probably could not have afforded, but I remember my dad's pride when the large, heavy box arrived and we unpacked each volume.
When I think back to my young reading, I am struck by the kinds of authors I read: Austen, Dickens, Bronte' sisters, Wilke Collins (for crying out loud), Hardy, (Jude!, don't do anything stupid, which of course he does. Tess also does stupid things); and the Americans, Fenimore Cooper, Hawthorne, Alcott, Twain, Sinclair and Dreiser (who I later found out was a scheming ladies man, amongst other things) but who also wrote Sister Carrie and An American Tragedy. In my late high school and early college years, I was attracted to black authors receiving recognition during that time: Wright, Ellison, Baldwin, Hurston (Their Eyes Were Watching God gripped me). Can't forget the Russians; first Dostoyevsky, and later Solzhenitsyn. I read Flaubert's masterpiece Madame Bovary and, as I became older, the South American authors, most notably Garcia Marquez—One Hundred Years of Solitude is his masterpiece, but I lost sleep over Love In The Time of Cholera. This is by no means an exhaustive list, and I'm not even sure it's important to where I am going with this essay, but you get the idea. I have loved books and reading since childhood.
In all of the reading I selected for myself, and reading required for school, I mention nothing about epic or classical literature. Of course, I read a couple of Shakespeare's plays in high school. I remember having to memorize the first sixteen lines of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales prologue for a college English lit course —Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote ...—which I struggled with and I don't recall doing well in the course either. I don't recall knowing of Homer's epic poems except, when I got older, as a concept.
The Iliad and The Odyssey? These were dim and far away titles, surely not meant for someone like me. As I progressed in my healthcare career, and continued reading all kinds of writing—I developed a fondness for essays and non-fiction, especially narrative non-fiction (Isabel Wilkerson's The Warmth of Other Suns should be required reading for high school and college students)—I found that I enjoyed writing and had a desire to improve my writing. I noticed that the truly great writers, and many reviewers and journalists as well, would reference the Bible, Shakespeare, the classic Greeks and others in their writing. Recently, I learned a new word, intertextuality. This is the phenomenon by which text acquires meaning through its relationship with other texts—through quotation, allusion, commentary, echo, reuse of terminology, or even implicit dialogue with earlier texts. An example might be Shakespeare's play Troilus and Cressida where he references not only the ancient Greeks but also Chaucer and others. I thought, well, it's too late for me.
On a recent Saturday morning, I had a 30 minute drive home from an appointment and I was searching for a non-political podcast to listen to while driving. I scrolled through my list and found The New York Times Book Review titled This author says you shouldn't be intimated by The Odyssey (unfortunately, this link includes commercials). Gilbert Cruz was interviewing Madeline Miller. What followed was one of the most interesting and delightful interviews and learning experiences I have ever had via a podcast. Cruz asked Madeline Miller if she was going to see the movie. Her response was, "I plan to." This was the first time I had heard of Christopher Nolan's soon to be released movie, The Odyssey. That same afternoon I went out and purchased Emily Wilson's translation of The Odyssey and, dropping all other reading, began Wilson's excellent 80 page introduction that evening. I felt so well prepared when I launched into reading Homer's 12,000 line poem. I saw Nolan's movie a few days later.
When I was on Book 4 of Emily Wilson's translation, the podcast Fresh Air came up in my feed with this title: 'Odyssey' translator Emily Wilson: Nolan should've hired a screenwriter. Emily Wilson was interviewed by Dave Davies—one of our most thoughtful and considerate interviewers in the media space today. Apparently, Emily Wilson has had quite a controversial classical career. I liked her and hearing her recite from memory, in classical Greek, the first stanza of Book 1 is memorable. As it turned out, and even though I enjoyed the movie, I agreed with Wilson. It was more Hollywood spectacle than anything else. The dialogue, which she criticizes, could barely be heard, at least by me, above all of the very loud sound effects. Since the movie is relatively easy to follow, I don't think that not being able to hear all the dialogue mattered that much. The action tells the story.
There is plenty of action in Homer's poem, and the dialogue is important. Emily Wilson has also translated Homer's Iliad and I'll be reading this, too, hopefully by the end of the year. I don't think I can read it immediately following The Odyssey. Instead, I have picked Madeline Miller's surprising reading suggestion to accompany The Odyssey and other classical literature and am now reading Watership Down (1972) by Richard Adams (1920-2016). My copy is the 50th anniversary edition of its publication and Miller has written the introduction. Miller writes, "Adams is well-versed in epic and classical literature, and Watership Down draws inspiration from Homer, Shakespeare, Vergil, Livy and others" (Intro page xiii). In The Odyssey Odysseus is trying to return home from his long journey. Watership Down begins with the rabbits' journey away from their home, and the further readers travel with Hazel, Bigwig, Fiver and the others, their misadventures are encountered and their epic tales are told. When I do read The Iliad, some likenesses with Watership Down should appear familiar.
I know there are many readers who, like me, have not read The Odyssey. I encourage readers to take the plunge. The story is powerful and full of many important life lessons. As Madeline Miller describes, it's about suffering, about trickery, about survival, about leadership, about loyalty and trust, about returning home, about family and, in the end, about love.
It's never too late. Reading The Odyssey was such a pleasurable experience. I let the story move me along and I felt grateful that my love for reading began so long ago. In childhood, reading was my escape; in adulthood it still is, and so much more.
Note: I have used the em dash in my writing for a long time, even when I didn't know how to make an em dash with my keyboard. I have always found it to be a useful punctuation tool. Now that we know the AI writing models also employ use of the em dash, I feel I need to inform readers that I do not use any of the AI writing models and have never done so. This entire piece, and everything else written on this blog—good or bad—is my own writing. I do use AI for summaries, as I do above when trying to define, describe and provide an example of intertextuality.
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