Ages ago, Hawm gave me a copy of The Iliad. Bless his little half cotton socks.
I haven't read it in years. I started quite soon after he gave it to me, but I just wasn't into it. Then, yesterday on the tram, I whipped it out and started again. The wonderful world that opened up was like jumping through a Sliders' vortex. Everything was how I remembered it, only slightly different. Complex and beautiful. Since my last reading, I have been to Troy and while I can't claim to have any new insight, I do feel differently. Reading has always been an escape for me, an entry into a new world with new people to adore. It feels like I'm seeing old friends again - ones that I never knew I missed.
My passion for Turkey has only increased my love for The Iliad. This week will be a happy week.
Will have to bring in the copy I found while we were on holiday. An old hardback copy of "The Iliad of Homer" translated by Alexander Pope, published by Henry Frowde. Best date I can find for it so far is 1912. It's a little beaten up, and the cover is hanging on for dear life, but I don't care. Still the best $5 I've spent in ages.
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