The Iliad by Homer

The Iliad by Homer

Finished July 17, 2026

I enjoyed this way more than I expected. I mean, I thought I’d like it, I knew the gist, etc. thanks to freshman English fifty years ago, but I have to say kudos to the translator for making this so engaging and accessible without making it sound oversimplified or cringe-ily modern. Because I had other things on my schedule while reading this, I would tell myself, “Okay, just read two chapters”…but then at the end of those two chapters, it would be, “okay, just one more” for about three more chapters.

So I usually don’t read the introduction to these classics (especially if the introduction itself is pretentious and/or boring) but I did skim this one quite a bit and it was pretty helpful. And made me laugh at this part:

“Oh would to god—Father Zeus, Athena and lord Apollo—
not one of all these Trojans could flee his death, not one,
no Argive either, but we could stride from the slaughter
so we could bring Troy’s hallowed crown of towers
toppling down around us—you and I alone!”

Clearly what he really wishes for is a world containing nothing but himself and his own glory, for Patroclus, whom he now sends out in his own armor, he regards as a part of himself. This solipsistic dream of glory—”everybody dead but us two,” as a scandalized ancient commentator summarized it—so offended the great Alexandrian scholar Zenodotus that he condemned the lines as the work of an interpolator who wished to inject into the Iliad the later Greek idea (for which the text gives no warrant) that Achilles and Patroclus were lovers.

Dude really throws down the “for which the text gives no warrant” right after saying “Patroclus…he regards as a part of himself.” lol Anyway, moving on~

Okay, so I know it’s about the Trojan War but one thing that surprised me was just how detailed the descriptions of death/brutality/whatever you want to call it are. I saved some examples:

Meriones caught him quickly, running him down hard
and speared him low in the right buttock—the point
pounding under the pelvis, jabbed and pierced the bladder—
he dropped to his knees, screaming, death swirling around him.

Meges killed Pedaeus, Antenor’s son, a bastard boy
but lovely Theano nursed him with close, loving care
like her own children, just to please her husband.
Closing, Meges gave him some close attention too—
the famous spearman struck behind his skull,
just at the neck-cord, the razor spear slicing
straight up through the jaws, cutting away the tongue—
he sank in the dust, teeth clenching the cold bronze.

Not enough for you? How about:

Aeneas sprang down with his shield and heavy spear,
fearing the Argives might just drag away the corpse,
somehow, somewhere. Aeneas straddled the body—
proud in his fighting power like some lion—
shielded the corpse with spear and round buckler,
burning to kill off any man who met him face-to-face
and he loosed a bloodcurdling cry. Just as Diomedes
hefted a boulder in his hands, a tremendous feat—
no two men could hoist it, weak as men are now,
but all on his own he raised it high with ease,
flung it and struck Aeneas’ thigh where the hipbone
turns inside the pelvis, the joint they call the cup—
it smashed the socket, snapped both tendons too
and the jagged rock tore back the skin in shreds.
The great fighter sank to his knees, bracing himself
with one strong forearm planted against the earth,
and the world went black as night before his eyes.

I loved the whole “the joint they call the cup” like we are getting an anatomy lesson here and Homer (and no, I’m not going to quibble about whether Homer even existed or was one person or a collection or blah blah blah—the front of the book says “Homer” so that’s what we’re going with) wants to be PERFECTLY CLEAR exactly what shit is going on.

But it’s not all just fighting. We have Zeus, after all, and we know what that means:

“Why hurry, Hera?”—
Zeus who gathers the breasting clouds replied,
“that is a journey you can make tomorrow. Now—
come, let’s go to bed, let’s lose ourselves in love!
Never has such a lust for goddess or mortal woman
flooded my pounding heart and overwhelmed me so.
Not even then, when I made love to Ixion’s wife
who bore me Pirithious, rival to all the gods in wisdom…
not when I loved Acrisius’ daughter Danaë—marvelous ankles—
and Perseus sprang to life and excelled all men alive…
not when I stormed Europa, far-famed Phoenix’ daughter
who bore me Minos and Rhadamanthys grand as gods…
not even Semele, not even Alcmena queen of Thebes
who bore me a son, that lionheart, that Heracles,
and Semele bore Dionysus, ecstasy, joy to mankind—
not when I loved Demeter, queen of the lustrous braids—
not when I bedded Leto ripe for glory—
Not even you!
that was nothing to how I hunger for you now—
irresistible longing lays me low!”

Nothing says smooth like trying to get laid by talking about all the other women you’ve fucked and how no, I want to fuck you even more than them.
But Hera was out to seduce him the whole time so I guess she got what she wanted, even if she got to sit through this litany of affairs.

And then we get to (one of) the moment I’d been waiting for: Achilles is told of the death of his not-at-all-romantic partner, Patroclus:

A black cloud of grief came shrouding over Achilles.
Both hands clawing the ground for soot and filth,
he poured it over his head, fouled his handsome face
and black ashes settled onto his fresh clean war-shirt.
Overpowered in all his power, sprawled in the dust,
Achilles lay there, fallen…
tearing his hair, defiling it with his own hands.

And groaning deeply the matchless runner answered,
“O dear mother, true! All those burning desires
Olympian Zeus has brought to pass for me—
but what joy to me now? My dear comrade’s dead—
Patroclus—the man I loved beyond all other comrades,
loved as my own life—I’ve lost him—Hector’s killed him,
stripped the gigantic armor off his back, a marvel to behold—
my burnished gear! Radiant gifts the gods presented Peleus
that day they drove you into a mortal’s marriage bed…
I wish you’d lingered deep with the deathless sea-nymphs,
lived at ease, and Peleus carried home a mortal bride.
But now, as it is, sorrows, unending sorrows must surge
within your heart as well—for your own son’s death.
Never again will you embrace him striding home.
My spirit rebels—I’ve lost the will to live,
to take my stand in the world of men—unless,
before all else, Hector’s battered down by my spear
and gasps away his life, the blood-price for Patroclus,
Menoetius’ gallant son he’s killed and stripped!”

As dramatic and enjoyable as all that sounds, I was a bit surprised that Achilles didn’t completely lose it. I might’ve even been a smidge disappointed; I expected him to say some really crazy shit.

Oh, now that I say that, I forgot about Patroclus’ ghost visiting Achilles:

“And you too,
your fate awaits you too, godlike as you are, Achilles—
to die in battle beneath the proud rich Trojans’ walls!
But one thing more. A last request—grant it, please.
Never bury my bones apart from yours, Achilles,
let them lie together…
just as we grew up together in your house,
after Menoetius brought me there from Opois,
and only a boy, but banished for bloody murder
the day I killed Amphidamas’ son. I was a fool—
I never meant to kill him—quarreling over a dice game.
Then the famous horseman Peleus took me into his halls,
he reared me with kindness, appointed me your aide.
So now let a single urn, the gold two-handled urn
your noble mother gave you, hold our bones—together!”

Good job, Patroclus.

As a fan of shonen manga, there were so many times while reading The Iliad that I thought, “wow, this is the original shonen. Amazing.” We have the power of…friendship, extremely detailed and descriptive battle scenes, women using their sex appeal to fuck everything up when they can. We have the protagonist’s halo in the form of the gods just interfering whenever their chosen one is about to be snuffed out and dudes powering up/entering The Zone/going Super Saiyan and being unstoppable ass-kickers. And we have the pause in the battle for everyone to take a moment to say their piece and recite their backstory:

“And I am Aeneas, and I can boast Anchises’ blood,
the proud Anchises, but my mother is Aphrodite.
Our parents—one pair or the other will mourn
a dear son today. Certain it is, I warn you,
we won’t break off from battle and leave the field
with no more than a youngster’s banter light as this.
But about my birth, if you’d like to learn it well,
first to last—though many people know it—
here’s my story, Achilles…”

And then he spends a few pages talking about his bloodline and something about three thousand mares and the North Wind turning into a stallion and fucking some of the horses and getting some colts and whatever else.

My point is, next time you’re watching anime and there’s a break in the action for exposition or a flashback, rather than thinking, “How unrealistic!” you can now think, “They have been doing this shit since Homer’s day! CLASSIC!”

Final thoughts:
At times it was extremely frustrating because you just wanted to yell at people to get their shit together; all of it was really truly pointless. But I think that was the point—it was all very frustratingly, infuriatingly human and the gods were no exception.

Rating: Bros before hoes would’ve solved this entire thing (on multiple levels, several times over). 4.5 stars