George Chapman's and Stephen Mitchell's translations of the Iliad offer distinct interpretations of Homer’s epic. Chapman, writing in the early 17th century, employs a richly poetic and somewhat archaic style, characteristic of his time. For example, in Book 1, Chapman's introduction vividly describes "Achilles' baneful wrath" and the sorrow it inflicted on the Greeks, using elevated language such as "heroic" and "infinite sorrows." This style continues in passages like Book 6, where he uses a metaphor of "old leaves" scattered by autumn winds to convey the transience of life. Chapman’s translation can be characterized by its intricate phrasing and elaborate diction that provide a grandiose and dramatic tone. Readers may find it immersive but might require effort to navigate the complex language. In contrast, Stephen Mitchell’s modern translation presents the Iliad in a more straightforward and accessible manner, aiming to capture the directness and clarity of oral storytelling. His version of Book 1 starts with "The rage of Achilles—sing it now, goddess," emphasizing a direct call to the Muse in simpler language. Throughout, as seen in passages like Book 6, Mitchell employs clear and contemporary phrasing—"Men come and go, just like the leaves in their seasons"—to convey the same themes with ease of understanding. Similarly, his translation of Achilles' contemplation of fate in Book 9 maintains the original depth, but in a conversational style: "My glory will die, but my life will be long and peaceful." This approach makes Mitchell’s version potentially more appealing to modern readers new to the epic, offering clarity without sacrificing the intensity of the narrative.
Achilles' baneful wrath resound, O Goddess, that impos'd
Infinite sorrows on the Greeks, and many brave souls loos'd
From breasts heroic; sent them far to that invisible cave
That no light comforts; and their limbs to dogs and vultures gave:
To all which Jove's will gave effect; from whom first strife begun
Betwixt Atrides, king of men, and Thetis' godlike son.
The rage of Achilles—sing it now, goddess, sing through me
the deadly rage that caused the Achaeans such grief
and hurled down to Hades the souls of so many fighters,
leaving their naked flesh to be eaten by dogs
and carrion birds, as the will of Zeus was accomplished.
Begin at the time when bitter words first divided
that king of men, Agamemnon, and godlike Achilles.