tisdag 30 januari 2024

SLEEPING GIANTS

Author: Sylvain Neuvel
Year: 2016
Publisher: Brombergs Bokförlag
Language: Swedish (Translator Peter Samuelsson)

In the enchanting years of childhood, where youthful enthusiasm knows no bounds, a girl frolics through the familiar neighbourhood, traversing woods and fields without neither plan nor goal. In this whimsical dance, the ground suddenly gives way underneath her feet and she tumbles into a sinkhole. Yet, rather than meeting the expected muddy ground, her fall is broken by a metal hand of unimaginable proportions and age. The first sleeping giant unearthed by human civilisation.

This is the starting point of Canadian writer and translator Sylvain Neuvel’s widely acclaimed series The Themis Files, whose first instalment is “Sovande jättar” (“Sleeping Giants”). The young girl’s discovery of the hand of a colossal robot triggers a global quest for the remaining parts at the highest levels of international politics. Her experience inspires her to venture into the study of physics and years later, after earning her PhD, she is heading up the team that conducts the research on the metallic giant on behalf of the US government. The tale unfolds as the team, with increasingly audacious endeavours, pursues scattered body parts worldwide, navigating geopolitical complexities.

In lieu of a traditional narrator, the story is mainly told by interrogation protocols and interviews, and in some cases hospital journals or official government documents. These accounts are mostly facilitated by a faceless, nameless, and untitled quasi-governmental agent whose interest in the extraordinary find is as shrouded in mystery as the contraption itself.

While the premise captivates attention, the execution leaves room for critique.

A common mistake is when a writer tries to inject too much action into the story without sufficiently expanding character gallery. Soap operas, obviously, have elevated this malaise to an artform. It certainly serves its purpose to keep the number of names to a bare minimum (unless you are a Russian writer and simply don’t care) but if the story becomes too complex involving too few characters, credibility suffers. This is exactly what happens to “Sovande jättar”. The improbable chain of events that leads a girl from a chance discovery to directing the research of it several decades later already strains believability. But it is only one of several such pitfalls. I leave out the rest to avoid spoilers.

Furthermore, the research direction as well as the pace and haphazard methods that mar its progress, including highly questionable ethics and safety measures, betray a vague understanding of academical research. Albeit no project can foresee and mitigate all risks, but no serious project manager would expose their teams to the kind of hazards that are described in the plot.

The choice of narration through protocols and journals, too, while not inherently flawed, falters in execution. It is imperative that the narration not only supports the story but moreover is suitable for it. If it is noticeable that the writer is struggling to maintain a certain perspective the bubble bursts. This is a constant problem for Neuvel in “Sovande jättar”. Many of the interrogations accounted for are simply unjustified, and in the case of a shrewd secret agent of an equally secret as influential agency, it should have been in his interest to not erect a protocol from certain conversations at all. But Neuvel could not omit them as they contain data that the reader needs to know to follow the story. By the same token, the interrogated characters sometimes answer questions they should’ve simply rejected or make random out-of-character comments.

In short; the plot's potential for exploring humanity's place in the universe and our technological inferiority is underutilised. Instead of delving into profound existential questions, Neuvel opts for a simplistic thriller, punctuated by juvenile love stories and he-said-she-said dialogues. From the introduction of the book, we learn that the genesis of The Themis Files is in a whimsical request from the author’s son for a bedtime tale about a toy robot. The resultant work straddles the line between a young adult and a more mature audience. The plot holes put their trust in the forgiveness of a reader's naivety and the language remains simple, while the political dimensions and sexual undertones require a more advanced age group. The characters, constrained by the protocol/article narration, emerge as flat and uninteresting—a foreseeable consequence of this stylistic choice.

So far, The Themis Files has been a disappointment.



söndag 14 januari 2024

THE ILIAD & THE ODYSSEY

Author: Homer
Year: 2002 (ca 700 BC)
Publisher: Wahlström & Widstrand
Language: Swedish (Translator Erland Lagerlöf)

Few works within the Western literary canon attain the level of ubiquity as the Iliad and the Odyssey by Homer. These two epic poems, over 2,500 years old have, like no other, shaped our understanding of literature, poetry, drama, and philosophy and by extension made their way into the global cultural heritage that we all share from east to west, from north to south.

Still, given its 15,700 and 12,100 lines respectively, all written in dactylic hexameter, it is understandable that few have had the inclination and fortitude (or, indeed, the luxury of time) to read the whole thing. So even though, for most of us establishing a fundamental rapport with these books via our cultural environment is inevitable, we largely remain oblivious as to their actual content.

As this astounding piece of art has, like few others, been analysed and dissected by scholars over millennia, all claim on introducing groundbreaking concepts in the present exposition are effectively precluded. Any introduction to the available translations will provide more profound insights than this blog post. Nevertheless, for a rudimentary delineation of my personal interpretation of this work, I invite you to press on. Maybe you will find it helpful. Let us start with the Iliad.

SPOILER ALERT

They key to understanding the whole point of the Iliad is hidden in plain sight in the very first lines of the poem.

Sing, goddess, the anger of Peleus’ son Achilleus
and its devastation, which put pains thousandfold upon the Achaeans,
hurled in their multitudes to the house of Hades strong souls
of heroes, but gave their bodies to be the delicate feasting
of dogs, of all birds, and the will of Zeus was accomplished
since that time when first there stood in division of conflict
Atreus son the lord of men and brilliant Achilleus.*

Contrary to popular assumption, the Iliad is not about the Trojan war at all. Rather, the narrative unfolds against the backdrop of an already protracted conflict, spanning nine years at the outset. The focal point crystallises around the wrath of Achilleus, his conflict with King Agamemnon of Mycene (“Atreus son”), and the fulfilment of destiny, as underscored by the resonant proclamation “the will of Zeus was accomplished”.

The storyline transpires amid the Achaeans' dire predicament, as besides the powerful army of the Trojans, commanded by the great Hektor, they are also ravaged by a terrible plague. Achilleus finally demands that King Agamemnon summons a war council and he persuades the warlords to ask a prophet why the gods have sent this plague upon them. The prophet reveals that it is the god Apollo who has struck them with the disease in retribution of Agamemnon’s disrespectful rejection of a plea from the head priest of Apollo’s temple to return his daughter to him, whom Agamemnon had taken as his slave and concubine. Achilleus, spurred by the confrontation with Apollo's wrath, compels Agamemnon to redress this sacrilegious transgression. The ensuing imbroglio results in Achilleus' withdrawal from the battlefield, refusing to participate in further war efforts.

The plague is lifted but without Achilleus’ powerful army and heroic might, Hektor and the Trojans keep pushing the Achaeans ever closer to the ships they came on. Meanwhile, Zeus has forbidden the gods in the pantheon to meddle in the battle but they find it difficult to stay away. Poseidon, Hera, and Athena favour the Achaeans while Apollo, Ares, and Aphrodite pity the Trojans and Zeus, the king of gods, has his hands full keeping his divine subjects away from the battlefield.

In the face of dire adversity, Achilleus’ childhood friend and dearest companion Patroklos, pleads with him to re-engage in combat to save his friends, many of whom Achilleus still honours and cherishes. Achilleus remains steadfast in his refusal but agrees to lend his armour to Patroklos who posing as Achilleus plunges into the fight. Under his banner, the Achaeans manage to push Hektor and his Trojans back to the walls of the city but not before Hektor catches up with Patroklos and kills him.

This triggers the second, and final, wrath of Achilleus. He is overcome with grief and rage. He decides to take revenge on Hektor for the death of his friend and storms furiously onto the battlefield, killing heroes left, right, and centre. His fury cannot be contained and he will even fight the gods themselves if they stand in his way. In a final showdown, he slaughters Hektor.

But the story doesn’t end there. Because contrary to his own expectation, killing Hektor does not give him peace. Mutilating Hektor’s dead body does not satisfy him. Killing hundreds of Trojans warriors, does not still his anger. He is beside himself with a rage that cannot be satiated. This is until Hektor’s father, King Priam of Troy, sneaks into the Achaean encampment in the night, seeks out Achilleus, falls to his knees before him and pleads with him to return Hektor’s body to him so that he can bury his son. After a few moments of bewilderment, Achilleus agrees. And finally finds closure. The Iliad ends with the burial ceremony of the hero Hektor. But, it is understood, the war continues.

The Iliad offers a myriad of interpretative avenues, with one notable aspect being the role of the gods. A literal interpretation presents them as tangible entities akin to mortal protagonists, while a more abstract reading views them as metaphysical manifestations of natural and moral forces. The epic underscores the intricate relationship between mortals and the divine, oscillating between transactional exchanges and capricious interventions.

Ordinary men are thus held accountable for actions under the influence of a higher power.

But the Trojans in the likeness of ravening lions swept on
against the ships, and were bringing to accomplishment Zeus’ orders,
who wakened always the huge strength in them, dazed the courage
of the Argives, and denied their glory, and stirred on the others.*

This is not unique for the Iliad but similar thematic elements recur for example in such scripts as the Old Testament Exodus 4:21

And the Lord said unto Moses, When thou goest to return into Egypt, see that thou do all those wonders before Pharaoh, which I have put in thine hand: but I will harden his heart, that he shall not let the people go.**

God made the Pharaoh stubborn and subsequently punished him and his people for it.

Another point that caught my interest was the apparent assumption by the poet that his listeners or readers already have a basic knowledge of the war. There is very little in the poem that explains why the Achaeans are besieging Ilion to begin with, nothing about Achilleus’ unprotected heel, or the prophecy of Hektor’s and Achilleus’ deaths. This tacit assumption aligns with the prevailing notion that these tales were deeply entrenched in cultural consciousness by the time of Homer's recording, approximately around 700 BC.

Transitioning to the Odyssey, a narrative of distinct character and structure unfolds within its approximately 12,100 lines. While sharing thematic parallels with the Iliad, it introduces a novel perspective on the journey of King Odysseus’ returning to Ithaka after the fall of Troy. This narrative, too, commences with an invocation to the Muse, to provide guidance as to how to approach the purpose of the text.

Speak to me, Muse, of the adventurous man who wandered
long after he sacked the sacred citadel of Troy.
Many the men whose towns he saw, whose ways he proved;
and many a pang he bore in his own breast at sea
while struggling for his life and his men’s safe return.
Yet even so, by all his zeal, he did not save his men;
for through their own perversity they perished — fools!
who devoured the kine of the exalted Sun.
Wherefore he took away the day of their return.
Of this, O goddess, daughter of Zeus, beginning where thou wilt,
speak to us also.***

After Troy has been defeated, the Achaean warlords share the spoils and depart each for their kingdom. Odysseus sets sail for Ithaka but is soon overcome by the capricious wrath of Poseidon. The god shipwrecks him and casts him onto an island where he is made the prisoner, and some sort of love toy, of the lesser goddess Kalypso. And this is where Homer begins his tale. Bit by bit, we get a glimpse of past events as the story progresses, including very short mentions of the Trojan Horse, the fight against the cyclops, the passage between Scylla and Charybdis, Kirke, the Sirens, and so on. For myths that have been as thoroughly engrained in the Western culture, they are surprisingly superficially accounted for in this comprehensive work. In fact, the passage where Odysseus talks about how he built a bed for Penelope is longer than any of these significantly more famous parts.

that all these stories are already known to the listeners and that his role is to put them into the context of the hero’s return to his kingdom, his wife, and his son, and to delve into the emotional hardship that he had to endure on his return journey, but also the longing, anguish, and pain suffered by the family that he left behind.

A small observation that I found interesting is that while the Iliad is told from a third person perspective where the nameless narrator presents the events as they unfold; in the Odyssey, the poet employs a novel narrative approach, predominantly featuring Odysseus as the storyteller, recounting his exploits to diverse interlocutors, notably the Phaeacians and their king Alcinoüs. However, throughout the tale, Odysseus displays a noticeable propensity for deception. He lies about his whereabouts, his identity, his family, and his intentions. Upon his return to Ithaka, he even lies to his wife while pretending to be a pauper. What is there to say that he did not also lie about all the adventures that he claims to have been on? Two of the most commonly used epithets for Odysseus in both the Odyssey and the Iliad are πολύ-τροπος and πολύ-μητις which are usually translated as “cunning” or resourceful” which underscore the main protagonist’s penchant for manipulation and a relaxed attitude to the truth****

We know from the narrator’s invocation of the Muse above, that Odysseus has seen many countries and lost many men but most of the details about his experiences are later obscured. After all, becoming the lover of a stunning, powerful, and forever young goddess might be a tempting reason to stay away for a while.    

A final consideration pertains to the Swedish translation. The overall framework is Erland Lagerlöf’s classical feat from the early 20th century. Lagerlöf seems to have been careful to maintain the ancient atmosphere by translating Homer’s words into an archaic form of Swedish. Obsolete grammatical forms and syntax as well as unusual vocabulary were used to maintain and reinforce the impression of antiquity onto the reader. Fifty years later, Gerhard Bendz was given the delicate task to modernise the text for the purpose of making the poem more accessible to the general public, and he did so by doing away with most of the archaic Swedish and replace it with a language that was in use at his time. However, as Bendz correctly notes in his remarks, translations age. And to a Swedish reader in 2024, the language that sounded modern and up-to-date to Bendz now sounds markedly dated. It seems as though we have come full circle and the books we have now, again give the reader the feeling of holding a very old text in their hands, just as Erland Lagerlöf intended.   

In conclusion, the Iliad and the Odyssey are a testament to the nature and culture of mankind. The ambitions, weaknesses, pettiness, and stubbornness as well as the resilience and adaptability of humans in all times. Whether approached as profound explorations of human psychology or tales rooted in the idiosyncrasies of ancient lore, these narratives persist as profound reflections on the human condition.

But we can just as easily read this as the story about how thousands of men had to die because two dudes would not let a woman decide for herself whom she wanted to marry, and a tale about a man who lies to his wife about why he is late home from work.

 

* Iliad of Homer, translated by Richmond Lattimore, The University of Chicago Press

**King James Version

*** Odyssey of Homer, translated by George Herbert Palmer, Houghton Mifflin and Co, 1891.

****The Swedish translation routinely returns to the word “mångförslagen” which has an additional connotation of crafty, wily, or two-faced and heeds the original Greek meaning of many or multiple.