Stephen Mitchell and Peter Green both offer unique interpretations of Homer's Iliad, maintaining the epic's core themes while showcasing their distinct stylistic choices. Mitchell's translation tends to be more fluid and modern, making it accessible to contemporary readers through its straightforward language. For instance, in his introduction to Book 1, he begins with, "The rage of Achilles—sing it now, goddess, sing through me," setting a direct tone that guides readers into the epic's story. His approach in passages such as Athena encouraging Diomedes in Book 5 is dynamic, where Athena’s words come across with an almost conversational clarity: "Get up, drive straight at Ares, close in and hit him. Don't be awed by this raging madman." In contrast, Peter Green maintains a more traditional and poetically nuanced style that echoes the original's grandeur. His translation of the Book 1 introduction, "Wrath, goddess, sing of Achilles Pēleus's son's calamitous wrath," retains a formal structure that evokes the poem's ancient roots. Green's portrayal of Athena's encouragement to Diomedes is detailed, capturing the gravity of the goddess's speech with rich descriptors like, "Get up close, hit him, don't be in awe of frantic Arēs, this raving madman." Green often preserves the epic syntax and original Greek naming conventions, lending his work a scholarly texture. Both translators encapsulate the Iliad's exploration of themes like glory and mortality, offering readers varied experiences of Homer's tale.
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.
Wrath, goddess, sing of Achilles Pēleus's son's
calamitous wrath, which hit the Achaians with countless ills—
many the valiant souls it saw off down to Hādēs,
souls of heroes, their selves1 left as carrion for dogs
and all birds of prey, and the plan of Zeus was fulfilled
from the first moment those two men parted in fury,
Atreus's son, king of men, and the godlike Achilles.