The Iliad

Paper quality veryyy bad Unevenly cut

Calidad del papel mala, como en estos tipos de libros en inglés, eso me lo esperaba, pero cortado sin guillotina, lleno de rebordes, con varias paginas dobladas que al abrirlas eran más grandes y que el libro cerrado se parecía a la foto de otro que también lo devolvió, como yo. ¿Sería ese el mismo libro que me enviaron después de rechazarlo él por defectuoso?

A leitura é suave, gostosa e muito direta, sem prejudicar o conteúdo e a proposta original da obra. Melhor tradução disponível!

Tutto perfetto

In the introduction Emily Wilson explains the reasoning behind her translation: “Many modern English translations of Homer use contorted, unnatural language that seems to me quite alien to the experience of the Greek. Many versions create a reading experience that mirrors how first-year language students labor valiantly through each word, but have only a foggy notion of what it all means.” Emily Wilson's Iliad is a translation for the modern reader making it accessible to everyone, especially those who would have loved to read Homer but as she points out been put off by the archaic language of previous versions. There are also extensive notes, a glossary and an introduction well worth reading. It is also beautifully presented with 'French flaps' and 'deckled edging' giving it an antiquarian look and feel. (It isn't as some reviews have presumed just badly cut pages.)

Emily Wilson’s translation of The Iliad in hardcover delivers something that a lot of versions miss—it lets the story feel immediate without sanding down its brutality. The first thing that stands out is how controlled and deliberate the language is. Like her Odyssey, the verse is clean and readable, but here it carries a heavier weight. There’s a steadiness to the rhythm that fits the subject matter—war, pride, grief—and it builds a kind of pressure as you move through the text. Nothing feels ornamental for the sake of it. What I appreciated most is how human the characters come across. Achilles isn’t just a legendary warrior; he’s volatile, wounded, and often difficult to sympathize with. Hector feels grounded in responsibility and inevitability. Even smaller characters are given just enough clarity that their deaths don’t blur together. The violence isn’t glorified—it’s specific, physical, and often uncomfortable to sit with. Wilson also does a strong job with the emotional undercurrent of the poem. The grief runs through everything, and it’s not treated as an afterthought. Moments of mourning, rage, and exhaustion feel just as important as the battles themselves. It gives the whole work a kind of gravity that lingers even in quieter scenes. Another thing worth noting is how she handles repetition and epithets. Instead of feeling redundant, they come across as intentional, almost ritualistic, reinforcing the structure of the poem without dragging down the pacing. The hardcover edition itself is solid. Good weight, durable binding, and a layout that supports the verse rather than crowding it. It feels like a book you can sit with for a long time without it becoming physically tiring to read. If you’ve found The Iliad difficult or distant in other translations, this version makes it far more accessible without simplifying it. And if you already know the text, it’s still worth reading for how clearly it brings out the psychological and emotional stakes behind the conflict. Overall, this is a powerful, grounded translation that treats the epic not as a distant legend, but as a deeply human story shaped by anger, loss, and consequence.