Samuel Butler and Alexander Pope both provide English translations of Homer's Iliad that reflect their own unique stylistic approaches. Butler's version is known for its straightforward and plain prose style. This can be seen in his translation of the famous opening lines, where he writes, "Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans." His language tends to be less elaborate, focusing on clear and direct storytelling that makes the themes and events accessible to modern readers. In a similar vein, his depiction of Athena encouraging Diomedes is practical and to the point, exemplifying a no-nonsense approach to both the characters and the narrative, telling Diomedes to not fear Ares but to fight him directly. In contrast, Alexander Pope's translation of the Iliad is characterized by its rhythmic and poetic verse, reflecting the grandeur and dramatic flair typical of 18th-century neoclassical literature. Pope's translation opens with the lines, "Achilles' wrath, to Greece the direful spring / Of woes unnumbered, heavenly goddess, sing!" showcasing his fondness for formality and embellishment. His language is rich and expressive, often using elevated diction to capture the epic's heroic tone, as seen in his portrayal of Achilles contemplating glory versus long life. Magical and vivid imagery is abundant in Pope's work, making lines about mortality, such as "Like leaves on trees the race of man is found," resonate with a timeless poetic quality. Both translators, through their distinct styles, offer readers different experiences of the same epic, allowing for varying interpretations and appreciations of Homer’s masterpiece.
Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans. Many a brave soul did it send hurrying down to Hades, and many a hero did it yield a prey to dogs and vultures, for so were the counsels of Jove fulfilled from the day on which the son of Atreus, king of men, and great Achilles, first fell out with one another.
Achilles' wrath, to Greece the direful spring
Of woes unnumbered, heavenly goddess, sing!
That wrath which hurled to Pluto's gloomy reign
The souls of mighty chiefs untimely slain;
Whose limbs, unburied on the naked shore,
Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore.
Since great Achilles and Atrides strove,
Such was the sovereign doom, and such the will of Jove!