An Epic Problem with No Simple Answer
The core of the issue is that there's no single, definitive, “correct” version of The Odyssey in English. The original poem was composed in Homeric Greek, a literary language that was never a spoken dialect, and written in a poetic meter called dactylic
hexameter. Translating it isn't like swapping one word for another; it’s an act of profound interpretation. Translators must make choices. Should they prioritize the literal, word-for-word meaning, as Richmond Lattimore did, which is great for scholars but can feel stiff to a casual reader? Or should they aim for the dramatic energy and narrative flow, like Robert Fagles, whose version is cinematic and a staple in many classrooms? Each choice creates a ripple effect, changing the tone, the characterizations, and the very feel of the story.
Meet Your Odysseus: Hero, Liar, or Complicated Man?
How a translator opens the poem tells you everything. The very first word describing Odysseus in Greek is polytropos, which literally means “many-turned.” For centuries, translators have wrestled with it. Robert Fagles chose “the man of twists and turns,” giving us a wily, adaptable hero. Older versions opted for more straightforwardly heroic language. But in 2017, Emily Wilson, the first woman to publish an English translation of the epic, made a groundbreaking choice. Her version begins: “Tell me about a complicated man.” That single phrase reframes the entire epic. Suddenly, Odysseus isn't just a clever hero; he’s a morally ambiguous figure whose actions are open to scrutiny. Wilson argues her choices reveal the gender dynamics and brutality that other translations often smoothed over. This shift from a flawless hero to a complex one is central to the modern debate.
The Director’s Inescapable Choice
A filmmaker can’t sidestep this debate; they have to choose which Odysseus they’re putting on screen. A director leaning on a Fagles-style translation will likely give us a classic action hero battling monsters on a desperate journey home, much like the 1997 miniseries starring Armand Assante. But a filmmaker inspired by Wilson’s work might focus more on the psychological toll of the journey, the hero’s questionable decisions, and the perspectives of the women he encounters. The upcoming film The Return, for instance, stars Ralph Fiennes as an older Odysseus who returns home to find a new kind of battle waiting for him, focusing on the grim reality of reclaiming a kingdom rather than the fantastical voyage. The translation a filmmaker favors, whether consciously or not, determines if the audience gets an epic adventure, a gritty character study, or something in between.
The 'O Brother' Question and Loose Adaptations
The debate even shapes films that aren't direct adaptations. The Coen Brothers’ O Brother, Where Art Thou? brilliantly transposes the story to the Depression-era American South. George Clooney’s Ulysses Everett McGill isn't a king, but his journey is filled with sirens, a one-eyed Bible salesman (the Cyclops), and a desperate push to get home to his wife, Penny (Penelope). The film isn’t concerned with the poetic meter of Homer, but it fully embraces the archetype of the wandering “man of twists and turns.” It cherry-picks the episodic, folksy elements of the epic, proving that sometimes the spirit of a particular translation—in this case, one that emphasizes the journey's picaresque and chaotic nature—can be more influential than the letter of the text itself.
