Goddess, sing me the anger, of Achilles, Peleus’s son, that fatal anger that brought countless sorrows on the Greeks, and sent many valiant souls of warriors down to Hades, leaving their bodies as spoil for dogs and carrion birds: for thus was the will of Zeus brought to fulfillment. Sing of it from the moment when Agamemnon, Atreus’ son, that king of men, parted in wrath from noble Achilles.
Homer, The Iliad (translated by A. S. Kline)
Now that’s how you start a book. These are the first two sentences of a work that people still read 2800 years later… even if it usually is for homework nowadays.
The opening to The Odyssey is also spectacular:
Sing to me, O Muse, of that man of many troubles, Odysseus, skilled in all ways of contending, who wandered far after he helped sack the great city of Troy. Sing through me, and tell the story of his suffering, his trials and adventures, and his bloody homecoming.
In case you’re wondering about the image for this post, it’s the Amazon warrior queen Penthesilea facing Achilles. She’s not in the Iliad, but she’s in a later account of the Trojan War that picks up where Homer left off.
Last week: Harper Lee on what we take for granted.
Next week: Alizée and the power of the particular.
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