So, I recently started re-reading The Iliad, because I felt my life required an injection of dactylic hexameter, and nobody gives dactylic hexameter like Homer. I mean, an hour of that and you’re left limp and spent.
Actually, this is the first time I am reading the Iliad. I thought I read it in my World Lit class in high school, but as I’ve discovered, I had really only read some heavily edited excerpts. Evidently Homer was too NC-17 for us.
In any case, I’m about halfway through it, and it has not disappointed at all. Loads of blood, lots of immortal lust, treachery, and petty vengeance, and sweaty Greek men engaged in exactly what you’d expect sweaty Greek men to do.
Now, I happened to mentioned that I am reading this to an old friend of mine we lovingly call Merlot. We call him that because he tends to whine a lot. I mean a lot. The other thing about Merlot is that he fancies himself a bit of an intellectual. And it gets really annoying. He’s the sort of guy who will quote Fouccault out of context, and who loudly claims that War and Peace is the greatest novel ever written. You know the type – has an opinion on everything whether informed or not.
And he has a very high opinion of his own intellectual capacity. Once, in college, Merlot was reading Paradise Lost for class, and he though he found something completely new that would change the entire meaning of the work. He enthusiastically pointed out to anyone who would pay attention his discovery in the famous quote by Lucifer:
"Better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heav’n"
Merlot was convinced that what
He brought this to the attention of the professor, his chest bursting with pride and self importance. The professor looked at him as if he was a retard about to eat mud and said, “What you’ve discovered is what we in the profession call a typo.”
Anyway, Merlot hears I’m reading the Iliad, and so he has to ask, “Oh, are you reading it in the original Greek?”
Yes, he really asked that.
So, I looked at him and replied, “Yes I am. Though it’s pretty hard going since I don’t understand Greek.”
He looked at me blankly, so I continued, “I figured I could start to pick it up after about 50 pages, but this alphabet is so bizarre.”
He had the same look on his face after that as he did when the professor killed his buzz all those years ago.
Ook ook
4 comments:
This poast makes me hungry for dolmades.
Egads, I need my Hooked on Phonics upgrade, I first read this line: "... that I am reading this to an old friend of mine..." as you were actually reading it out loud to this friend. Kinda had me baffled as to why you'd do that unless they were ill and needed company.
BUT...never mind on that bit.
Overall: ACK.
You keep him around for entertainment value? Ill-conceived pedantics have a short shelf-life in my pantry.
RL - I did the same damn thing, picturing Fez talking to an uncorked bottle.
You reminded me of an interview with actress Emma Thompson where I heard her say that one of her biggest regrets was never reading Homer in the original Greek. Now, I loves me some Emma Thompson, but Sweet Fancy Heyzeus what an arrogant thing to say. Your smartass ruse on Merlot had me giggling, though.
Paula: Some dolmas would be very yummy ... especially during the prolonged passages where Homer (ancient poet) goes all Homer (modern animated glutton) on and on and on about hekatombs, feasts, and the like.
RL & O'Tim: Okay, so I used poor syntax. Sheesh! How freaking picky you can be.
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