For over a century, despite all the astounding changes—from the advent of computers and smartphones to artificial intelligence—cinema remains a “magic wand” of our civilization. As soon as Christopher Nolan released his “Odyssey,” millions of people who not only forgot about Homer’s poems but have simply never read them, express opinions on the film’s adherence to the classic plot, discuss the actors’ portrayal, and are offended that the director’s vision does not coincide with their own perception of the ancient world…
Of course, it would be better for Andriy Sodomora to write about these portrayals or their absence than me. Speaking of Sodomora: have you ever thought about how fortunate it is that Andriy Sodomora is our contemporary, so ancient authors in his interpretation speak not just our modern language, but also match our perception of beauty? And Boris Ten, who almost became our contemporary, brilliantly translated Homer’s poems. It is crucial to understand a simple thing: when you read a pompous review of Nolan’s film in Russian, you must realize that its author likely has not read Homer, as it is almost impossible for a modern person to get used to the archaic language of Gniedich or even Zhukovsky. And here people who know about antiquity only from popularized retellings of Greek myths tell others how an adaptation of ancient works should look.
But to recognize everyone’s right to perceive and interpret Homer as they see fit, we need to determine what these poems are. Literary works? Artistic comprehension of ancient history? A fairy tale, that is, a myth?
First and foremost, it is a canon of the past. In the ancient world, there were temples, gods, and sacrifices, but there was never a sacred book like the Torah, Gospel, or Quran. Thousands of writers of Greece and Rome, for centuries, like tireless weavers, created the fabric of their great religion, and Homer was the first among them, – now he would be called the first evangelist. Everything we know about ancient gods and ancient “saints,” that is, heroes, we know from literature. And this literature is considered literature only because, unlike the Torah or the Gospel, it is not canonized, – yes, the Greeks gifted us the art of interpretation and indefatigable creative pursuit, but could not establish their canon.
The modern canon—rules of the world by which we live—emerged the very second a humble carpenter from Nazareth rode a white donkey through the golden gates of the ordinary provincial city of the ancient world, Jerusalem. At that moment, Jerusalem transformed into the spiritual capital of monotheistic religions, and not only the actions of Jesus became canon but also his own faith and the actions of those who would preach in his name.
When I read Homer, I often ponder what the world would have looked like if its fundamental values were developed by the ancient Achaeans, rather than the ancient Jews. And I realize it would be a world where people would be deprived not only of hope for salvation but also of freedom of will. Because in the ancient canon, such freedom is held only by the gods. All others—heroes, anti-heroes, mere walk-on characters of ancient mythology—live by the will of the gods, and their fates are determined not by their own choices, but by disputes among the residents of Olympus. Even the main symbol of defiance against Zeus’s will, Prometheus, who steals the sacred fire (not the flame, as many still think, but life itself), is also part of the world of immortals.
Therefore, my favorite hero of Homeric epic is not Odysseus, who with all his intelligence is just a tool in Athena’s hands, but Hector, who in his unstoppable desire to protect his homeland acts against the divine will itself. Hector is the first person on the pages of world literature endowed with the ability to fight and to disregard the gods when it comes to the homeland. Hector is the first person on the pages of world literature endowed with a conscience that his contemporaries, confident in the invincibility of Zeus’s decisions, simply do not yet have. Hector is the first person on the pages of world literature capable of fighting for the future even when he understands there won’t be one. Hector is Homer’s ticket to our time, as the blind bard created, imagined this hero; it’s like a boy playing a computer game now realizing that one of the characters lives its own life disregarding his commands and the very logic of what happens on the computer screen.
While we contemplate the adventures of Odysseus, this eternal entertainment of Athena and Poseidon, let’s not forget that the modern Ukrainian, in their indomitable desire to survive, protect and triumph against circumstances and presidents, has a great prototype in the ancient canon—Hector, who fought for his homeland to the end and simultaneously understood all the flaws and problems of Troy.
This is why the author of the “Iliad” did not give the possibility to witness the fall of the great city to not only its main savior but also to us—the “Iliad” ends with a truce, not conquest. And this too is a great lesson for everyone living in modern Ukraine: if we want to be faithful to Hector’s memory and preserve ourselves, we should not, once peace is established, be tempted by the gifts and promises of those who wanted to destroy us.
Our country now is the fortress and resting place of Hector. Hector, not Odysseus.
