Bryant's Translation of the Iliad [pp. 381-396]

Bryant's Translation of the Iliad.
native, not a grafted, sweetness.
Writing in blank-verse, he neither
needs nor claims the license of
French translators; yet we sometimes miss Mr. Bryant's terseness and
simplicity; as in the initial lines:
" Divino Achille ti rammenta il padre
I padre tuo da sia vecchiezza oppresso,
Qua io mi sono! In questo punto ei forse
Da potenti vicini assediato
Non ha chi lo socorra e all' imminenlte
P'eriglio il tolga."
To appreciate this version one needs
only to glance at Cesarrotti's. Priam's first three words-Mvncat 7rarpor
oto!-comprise the most effective
exordium in literature. They are
true projectiles shot from soul to
soul. Let us see if they are easily
recognized in the Aforte d'Etlore:
" Ah pieta, grida,
Divino Achille! I1 padre tuo t'implora
Per tuo padre, pieta!"
Is it possible to place artist and
word-monger in sharper antithesis?
The success of his mission-perhaps
his life-depends upon the first impression. Conceive royal Priaml
whining forth " Pity, pity!" like some
professional beggar mumbling his
worn-out lies. Homer said simply,
"Think of thy father, Achilles!"
The words, like the stroke of Moses'
rod, split the stubborn heart, and
pity gushed forth in tears.
It must be admitted that Mr. Bryant's lines are not always invested
with the impassioned fervor and
glowing life which have rescued the
works of his English predecessors
from oblivion. But it will often be
found that where they were most
spirited they were least Homeric. It
is inevitable that a conscientious
workman who resolves to copy his
model in the minutest details will
produce at times a mosaic rather than
a casting-his materials will seem
pieced and not fused. But we are
sure that the sweetness of Mr. Bryant's verse will delight the general
reader, while scholars will appreciate
his self-control. Animation is desirable, but fidelity is indispensable;
and they who truly love the Iliad
will prefer Homer in marble to Pope
and Chapman in the flesh.
Over all translators of the Iliad,
we confess that Voss is paramount;
but no other version with which
we are acquainted will bear a
sustained comparison with Mr. Bryant's. The latter's obligations to
Voss are undoubtedly great; but he
has well-nigh cancelled the debt, for
the next worker in the field will owe
much to him. It may be that translation is not the highest function of
genius; yet where it is nobly fulfilled
it deserves and commands our gratitude. Nor is this all. It is something more than a figure of speechthe fine figure of Politian's-by
which Homer, assisting in the person of Ganymede at the banquet of
the gods, is made to distribute to his
best lovers some portion of his own
ambrosia.
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