In truth, when read aloud, closely imitating the demanding dactylic hexameter and providing the “speed and rhythm analogous” of the original (67), it sings like the Muse. (xxix) The mark by which all other translations have been compared is Richmond Lattimore’s Iliad. Anthony Verity’s Iliad is lyrical without being poetic and he does not even pretend to sustain the meter of the original. This essay is prompted by a fine new translation and a re-issuing of the “gold standard” of Homeric translations. You have to read Homer and Arbery’s essay to see if you agree. Having tasted deeply from the sacred fountains that brought forth living waters, I am mostly in agreement with Glenn Arbery’s assertion that “Of all the poems in the history of the West, actual scripture aside, but including The Divine Comedy, Paradise Lost, and all the devotional lyrics ever written, God loves the Iliad the most.” (from Arbery’s essay “The Sacrifice of Achilles” in Why Literature Matters) Like many other lovers of the Great Books and the Great Tradition, I yield to the truth that Homer’s epics are the magnificent profane fountain that gave birth to our imagination.
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