Since I don't read Attic Greek, I don't feel competent to comment properly on his poetry.

Hell of a story-teller though.

Unbeatable, if he was indeed a real person, he created not one but two of the greatest stories ever. Incredible tales that will live forever.

I first read Pope's translation of the Iliad over fifty years ago and I have read others since. The climax is of course, the righteous Hector, going to his fate, sure death at the hands of Achilles. Some of the more heart-rending lines of all poetry lie in the part where King Priam and his queen, Hector's parents, beg Hector not to fight Achilles and meet sure death. Meanwhile, old Priam was the first to catch sight of Achilles, as he dashed across the plain, blazing like that star which comes at harvest time its light shines out more brightly than any of the countless lights in night's dark sky. People call this star by the name Orion's Dog. It's the brightest of the stars, but an unwelcome sign, for it brings wretched mortals many fevers. The bronze on Achilles' chest glittered like that star, as he ran forward. With a cry, old Priam struck his head with his hand, then, reaching up, with many groans, he called out, pleading with his son, who was still standing there before the gates, firmly resolved to fight Achilles. The old man, hands outstretched, appealed to Hector's sense of pity: "Hector, my dear son, don't stand out there alone, facing that man with no one else to help you, or you will quickly meet your death, slaughtered by Peleus' son, who's much more powerful. Don't be obstinate. If only the gods would love Achilles just as much as I do, then dogs and vultures would soon gnaw at him as he lay there. And then my heart might shed its dreadful sorrow, for he's taken from me many valiant sons. Some he's butchered. Others he's sold in islands far away. Right now, I can't see two of my young sons, Polydorus and Lycaon, among those who've gathered with the Trojans in the city, both delivered to me from Laothoe, queen among women. If they're still alive in the Achaean camp, we'll ransom them, with bronze and gold we have stored at home. For famous ancient Altes gave many gifts when he gave me his daughter. But if they're dead and already in that dwelling place of Hades, that's a sorrow to my heart, their mother's, too, their parents. But that's a briefer sorrow for other people, unless you die as well, killed by Achilles. Come here, my child, inside the walls, so you can help to save Trojan men and women. Don't give that man, that son of Peleus, great glory. He'll take your own dear life. Have pity on me, too. Though full of misery, I still can feel. Father Zeus will kill me with a cruel fate on the threshold of old age, once I've seen so many dreadful thingsmy sons slaughtered, my daughters hauled away, their houses ransacked, their little children tossed down on the ground in this murderous war, my daughters-in-law led off captive in hard Achaean hands. In the end, I'll be ripped by ravenous dogs, in front of my own doors when some man strikes me with his sharp bronze or throws his spear in me, robbing my limbs of lifethe same dogs I raised, at home beside my table to guard the doors. They'll drink my blood, then lie there at the gates, their hearts gone mad. When a young man dies in war, lying there murdered by sharp bronze, that's all right. Though dead, he shows us his nobility. But when the dogs disfigure shamefully an old man, chewing his gray head, his beard, his sexual organs, that's the saddest thing we wretched mortals see." As the old man spoke, his hands tugged his gray hair and pulled it from his head. But he could not sway Hector's heart. Beside Priam, Hector's mother wept. Then she undid her robe, and with her hands pushed out her breasts, shedding tears. She called out to him with these winged words: "Hector, my child, respect and pity me. If I ever gave these breasts to soothe you, remember that, dear child. Protect yourself against your enemy inside these walls. Don't stand out there to face him. Stubborn man, if he kills you, I'll never lay you out on your death bed or mourn for you, my child, my dearest offspringnor will your fair wife. Far away from us, beside Achaean ships, their swift dogs will eat you." So these two, both crying, spoke to their dear son, pleading incessantly with him. But Hector's heart would not budge. He stood awaiting huge Achilles, who was getting closer. Just as a mountain snake waits for some man right by its lair, after eating poison herbs so that a savage anger grips him, as he coils beside his den with a fearful glare that's how Hector's dauntless heart would not

Simpson?????

The themes that are in Homer's work are still prevalent today, about 2500 years later. However, I think that reading the Odyssey should be done for the theme and message being sent. I actually read it this year and the test I had on it in my ninth grade honors english class was mainly identifying quotes. It gave basically random quotes by people throughout the book and the task was to match the person who said it. The names definitely passed the realm of obscurity; I didn't even remember half the names mentioned. I totally disagree with this method of reading the book. You shouldn't read Homer's literature for detail, but for major pictures. Also, the Iliad is certainly more written for that time period. You really have to know ancient Greek history to comprehend that work.

The Iliad and the Odyssey are of course superlative,totally engaging epic adventures (they enthralled me when young)which have continued to exert a huge fascination and have certainly stood the test of time;how many popular contemporary poets will still be widely read in 3,000 years? I remember one teacher who knew Greek leaving me in no doubt as to the original poetic mastery;the sounds and rhythm were relayed with such inspiring relish.