Apollo heard his prayer and descended Olympus' crags
Pulsing with fury, bow slung over one shoulder,
The arrows rattling in their case on his back
as the angry god moved like night down the mountain.
(from Book 1)
What pulled me in wasn’t just the story: it was how the story was told.
In Homer's poetry, words often take flight. Conflict devours human hearts. The saffron-robed dawn has rosy fingers.
Knees are loosened. Men clutch the dust in death, as life and fury loosen within them and breath abandons bones.
And, it is always good to give way to night - where sleep is sweet, soft and all-conquering.
📖
In this post, we dive into Part III of my Iliad series, where I share and reflect on some of my favorite lines and language from Homer. Even though these do come from translations, the story and imagery transcend the words on the page and something deeper shines through. Also included: a few raw reading notes (typed for legibility) and social media moments shared along the way.
This post is for subscribers only
Sign up now to read the post and get access to the full library of posts for subscribers only.
Sign up now
Already have an account? Sign in
