Robert Fagles and Stephen Mitchell offer distinct yet powerful translations of Homer's Iliad, each capturing the epic’s essence while reflecting their unique stylistic choices. Fagles opens with a striking invocation of "Rage—Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus’ son Achilles," setting a tone of intensity and foreboding from the outset. His use of phrases like “countless losses” and “will of Zeus was moving toward its end” epitomizes the grandeur and tragic inevitability that underscore the narrative. Mitchell, on the other hand, frames the introduction with "The rage of Achilles—sing it now, goddess," quickly bringing the goddess into the narrative while emphasizing the personal responsibility of Achilles’ actions. His language is slightly less formal, using terms like “deadly rage” and “bitter words,” which echo a conversational tone and draw readers into the emotional stakes of the conflict. In terms of thematic imagery, both translations handle the metaphor of leaves to describe human generations with reverence for the cycle of life and mortality. Fagles writes, “Like the generations of leaves, the lives of mortal men,” offering a poetic and rhythmic lament. Mitchell parallels this with, "Men come and go, just like the leaves in their seasons," opting for straightforward prose to convey the same cyclical notion. Similarly, both address choice and fate, where Fagles conveys the dilemma faced by Achilles about glory and longevity, emphasizing “the stroke of death” as an inevitable conclusion. Mitchell maintains clarity in Achilles' choices, stating the outcomes simply and effectively. While both translations tell the same ancient story, Fagles leans into high-poetic intensity and complexity, and Mitchell into clarity and accessibility, allowing readers to engage with the Iliad through different lenses.
Rage—Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus' son Achilles,
murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses,
hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls,
great fighters' souls, but made their bodies carrion,
feasts for the dogs and birds,
and the will of Zeus was moving toward its end.
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.