I can't do a better introduction to Emily Wilson,

classicist and translator of Homeric poetry, than this.

Goddess, sing of the cataclysmic wrath of great Achilles, son of Pileas.

Because the state news profiles that dissect not just her,

but her modern translations of the Odyssey and the Iliad,

they do not do her justice.

And made men the spoil of dogs, a banquet for the birds.

And so the plan of Zeus sun folded, starting with the conflict between...

I've learned that the world of classical translators is very intense, that their fan base is very intense,

capable of passionate reviews of translations from Pope to Latimore to Fagels.

And if you haven't heard of any of those people, this is the conversation for you.

Now, there is something about the way that Emily Wilson has translated these classic works

that's considered a bit controversial.

And to me, weirdly familiar in the way that it touches on the nature of storytelling and objectivity.

There's that question of how invested are you personally in the story and you're supposed to be,

but you're not supposed to be too much so, or there's like judgment about who gets to tell which

stories. And I think that sort of thing that we've talked about in relation to translation

a little bit with people doing the ridiculous, she's a woman, so she must be woke and she

must be illegitimate kinds of

stuff, I think that also happens in journalism.

So what role, if any, does the identity of the translator play in the reimagining of a story?

And what's it like to tell your own story after spending much of your career interpreting

...