On Translating Homer: Emily Wilson Speaks at Providence College

On September 6, 2019, Providence College invited Emily Wilson, the first woman to translate Homer’s Odyssey into English, to speak on campus about her experience as a translator. She began her talk by telling the story of how she was inspired to study Ancient Greek by participating in an elementary school play adaptation of the Odyssey and also by reading Greek myths as a child. She then went on to take Ancient Greek and Latin classes in high school before studying classics in college. During her education, she read many different English translations of the Odyssey alongside the original Ancient Greek version. When she was approached by a publisher to write her own translation, she looked back upon these others and read them closely, searching for gaps, holes, and words choices with which she disagreed. She then began writing, and during the five years that it took her to complete her work, she kept only the Ancient Greek version by her side and avoided reading any others. 

She also described how there have been more translations of the Odyssey recently than ever before, and she went into detail of the specific line lengths, rhyme scheme, and meter used by many of these writers. Homer used dactylic hexameter—six units of rhythm per line—but most contemporary translations, she said, use free verse. She decided to use iambic pentameter in order to pay homage to the rhythmic, musical quality of the source material. She also stuck to the same exact number of lines as the original work, and this kept her writing concise, avoiding unnecessary flowery language and excessive detail. Homer’s work, she claimed, should be thought of as entertaining and fun and have simple syntax—translators should not need to include footnotes in order for their readers to understand it.

Wilson used the Ship of Theseus paradox as a metaphor for translating ancient texts. If Theseus were to replace every element of his ship over the course of his journey, will he come home in the same ship or a different one? If a translator replaces every single word of a piece of literature with a new one in a different language, is it still the same piece of literature? While she did not answer this question, she made it clear that “staying true” to an original work is a difficult task. I was fascinated by the intricacies she described, including the many different ways a single word or phrase could be translated. For example, many previous translations used the words “house girl” or “servant” where Wilson used “slave.” I thought it was daring of her to do so—it makes a powerful statement to write something so radically different from those who came before you. 

I also enjoyed her points about avoiding frilly, labyrinthine language. I agree with her argument that the Odyssey and other ancient texts can and should be made more accessible and enjoyable for students. We should be able to read these works without having to consult a dictionary every five words. I adored Wilson’s translation—I loved how she was able to combine colloquial language with Homer’s famous epithets and also gorgeous similes and metaphors of her own. Though it was clear upon reading the first line—“Tell me about a complicated man”—that this version of the Odyssey is something special, her talk provided even more insight into the artistry she put into this translation.

Five Things I've Learned While Writing My First Novel

For the last eleven months, I have been working on a novel. I’ve been calling it my first, but the truth is, it’s more like a fifth or sixth. Many times, especially in the past three years, I have attempted to write a book. Each ended the same way—pushed aside “for later” and then eventually abandoned altogether. This time, though, I forced myself to the finish line. I’m taking a short break to clear my head, and then it will be finally time to embark on the lovely journey of editing (also known as: tearing my writing to pieces, shoving it through a thousand filters, and seeing what’s left at the end).

Throughout this process, I’ve learned quite a bit, and though I’m by far from being an expert, I thought I’d share some of that knowledge. I present to you the five things I’ve learned while writing my first novel.

It’s not going to turn out like how you originally plan. Before I started this novel, I had two ideas—two completely separate ideas that had nothing to do with each other, and each only one sentence long. I decided at one point, “hey, I’m never going to get around to writing both of these, and they’re too simple,” and so I fused them together. If you read those two sentences and then the completed book, though, you might see a tiny bit of resemblance, but in truth they are only minor features now that barely matter to the story anymore. As I progressed, I added more and more detail to my plan, but those details were always appearing, evolving, or being scrapped altogether. I never stuck to much of a real outline—the story just happened on its own. I was pretty scared of letting go of the reins, as someone who rigidly plans out every aspect of my life, but it worked out for the better.

It’s okay to take some time to think. My original writing plan was to write a thousand words or more every day, no excuses. This, of course, fell to ruins after day one. It was due in part to my schedule as a student—unfortunately, writing isn’t my full-time job yet—but also because of writer’s block. I would try to start the next chapter, but I wasn’t one hundred or even ninety percent sure of what I wanted to happen yet. Eventually, I decided I would use my “busy days” as time to think instead of write, time to gain inspiration from the outside world for what I could write about next. During those days, I still tried to write something—a short story, an essay for school, a poem, anything—to gain some extra practice. Writing every day is extremely important to me, even if it is work on a few separate projects.

Wait until you are finished with the first draft to go back and revise. There was a period in June when I was about halfway to where I am now with the novel, and I decided that it was probably a good idea to go back and make sure there were no huge mistakes or plot holes before I continued on with the story. Bad idea. All this did was hurt my confidence. Sure, I got some of the tedious grammar-correcting and typo-fixing out of the way, but picking apart my writing like that before it was finished made me want to quit. The story wasn’t yet going in the direction I wanted it to go, there were subplots I hadn’t tied up, the writing style I had chosen was starting to annoy me…everything seemed like it was headed for the dumps, and I didn’t feel like working on it anymore. Fortunately, it was only about thirty-five thousand words long at this point and I got through the editing fairly quickly. I realized by the end of it that no matter how awful it seemed, I had to keep going, because I still had some good ideas that I hadn’t put into play yet.

Write whatever you want. Countless times throughout this process, I have questioned many aspects of my story, saying things like “but no one puts stuff like this in a novel” or “this is too weird.” The truth is, though, anything can be in a novel. If you’ve never seen something in a book before, great. Write it. There’s a first for everything. If you think it’s weird, even better. Go for it. Staying safe is not what makes a good story. You need good characters, a good plot, and good writing—but no one is there to tell you what constitutes “good.” You have to take some risks. Make it a book that you would enjoy—you’re the first reader, after all.

Don’t quit, no matter how much you want to. The first real novel I tried to write ended after sixty pages when I realized the story was too similar to the rest of the YA genre. Instead of trying to make it different, and better, I quit. Another one, my second attempt at YA, lasted through one and a half handwritten composition books before deciding that it was too strange. In both of these cases, I had told myself that I would finish them. So, when I started this one back in February, I was terrified that it would meet the same fate. I think it was actually this fear that pushed me through, though—there were points at which I didn’t even care how it turned out; I just wanted it so badly to be finished and not trashed like everything else. 

And now, well, I guess my wish came true. Perseverance and trust in myself has brought me to the end of this epic journey, and from here I can only go forward.

As of today, I have a sixty-eight thousand-word rough draft, which is twenty thousand more words than I thought I’d end up with. So far, I’ve done one quick edit on my own, and I’ve handed it off to a few friends for critiques and suggestions (be mean to me, guys) before I begin a real second draft.

When will it be published? Who knows. That’s a whole other adventure.

"In A Bookstore"

Another short piece I wrote for class; enjoy :)

In a Bookstore

You are surrounded by thousands of stories, millions of words, some of which could be just a few weeks old and others published hundreds of years ago. They say to never judge a book by its cover, but each one of them transports you into a different universe from a single glance. Once you step in, you immediately become lost in the maze of shelves, but you never really want to find your way out. You become enveloped in the familiar woody scent of the newly-printed book, and it occupies your senses like a drug. You might run your hands along the spines covers—some feel smooth and glossy, others more rough, almost sticky. Some have raised designs and letters that you trace with your fingertips. It is peaceful, quieter than other stores, because it is full of readers looking for an escape from reality. You could stay in there for hours, simply browsing, because who knows—the next book you pick up could end up as your favorite.

"Backstage"

A little descriptive piece I wrote for class; enjoy :)

Backstage

You close your eyes as you feel your stomach tighten. It is caused partly by your tight, itchy costume but mostly from nerves. Your brain is working overtime, and all your senses are hyperaware. You take a deep breath in and the fragrant but sickly-sweet scents of perfume and hairspray filter into your nose, stinging your sinuses. You hear a bottle spray to your left and get a full, fresh blast of the smell. You exhale through your mouth, and when you close it again you taste your chalky lipstick. Your mind immediately jumps to the fear that all your makeup needs to be checked and re-done, but you breathe in and out again, pushing away all your irrational worries and focusing on the task at hand. From what seems like a distant land, you can hear the audience chattering—adults laughing, children asking questions, and babies crying, all blending into white noise. There are people all around you, too, but they are whispering and humming under their breath. Then, suddenly, a hush falls as someone begins speaking in a booming voice. Their words echo around your head, going into both ears multiple times each. Then they are finished, and applause erupts, a sound not unlike thunder or rain on a tin roof. As it dies out, a soft piano melody begins playing, and a flute soon joins in as well. You open your eyes, and notice all the familiar faces around you doing the same, visible only by a dim blue light coming from in front of you. Some are smiling, some frowning in concentration, but all are shaking from head to toe with nervous excitement. You take another deep breath, inhale and exhale, grounding yourself to the floor with your snug-fitting shoes but holding your head high. You tell yourself you are prepared. You are ready.