Stanley Lombardo vs Robert Graves Iliad Translation Comparison

Years: 1997 and 1959

Stanley Lombardo's translation of the Iliad is known for its straightforward and modern approach. He uses concise and clear language to convey the narrative, making the text more accessible to contemporary readers. His style captures the essence of the epic's intensity, focusing on the raw emotions and actions of the characters. For instance, Lombardo's translation begins with "Sing, Goddess, Achilles' rage, / Black and murderous, that cost the Greeks / Incalculable pain," emphasizing Achilles' destructive anger in plain terms. His interpretation of the dialogue between Athena and Diomedes is direct, with Athena saying, "Don't be in awe of Ares. He's nothing but / A shifty lout," which makes the goddess's advice both urgent and relatable. Lombardo's simplicity in lines like "Human generations are like leaves in their seasons" captures the transient nature of life, maintaining a powerful imagery with minimum complexity. In contrast, Robert Graves's translation takes a more traditional and poetically ornate approach. His language is more elaborate, often employing archaic terms that resonate with the epic's ancient roots. Graves opens with "Sing, Mountain Goddess, sing through me / That anger which most ruinously / Inflamed Achilles," adding a layer of mysticism to the narrative. His interpretation of Athena's encouragement to Diomedes is similarly expressive, with lines like "Up with you, and go for that mad, raving fellow—that universal curse," providing a heightened sense of drama. Graves's rendition of the leaf metaphor reads, "All forest leaves are born to die; / All mortal men the same," which opts for a lyrical and rhythmic structure. This poetic quality permeates Graves’s translation, offering readers a more classical experience of the epic's timeless themes. Both translators bring unique perspectives to the Iliad, balancing between accessibility and tradition in their distinct styles.

Passage comparison

Stanley Lombardo

Sing, Goddess, Achilles' rage,
Black and murderous, that cost the Greeks
Incalculable pain, pitched countless souls
Of heroes into Hades' dark,
And left their bodies to rot as feasts
For dogs and birds, as Zeus' will was done.

Robert Graves

Sing, Mountain Goddess, sing through me
That anger which most ruinously
Inflamed Achilles, Peleus' son,
And which, before the tale was done,
Had glutted Hell with champions—bold,
Stern spirits by the thousandfold;
Ravens and dogs their corpses ate
For thus did Zeus, who watched their fate,
See his resolve, first taken when
Proud Agamemnon, King of men,
An insult on Achilles cast,
Achieve accomplishment at last.

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