La Odisea
1997

The Odyssey isn't merely the story of one man's long journey home. It's the template for every homecoming story ever told, the original map of what it means to leave, suffer, change, and return transformed. Composed nearly three thousand years ago in ancient Greece, this epic follows Odysseus through ten years of impossible trials: monsters, sorceresses, the wrath of gods, the loneliness of an endless sea, as he fights to reclaim his kingdom, his wife, his place in the world. He has been gone twenty years. Ten at Troy. Ten more lost on wines-dark seas, trapped by a nymph who wants him to be her husband, tossed by tempests, blinded by cyclops, held by underworld shades. Meanwhile, on Ithaca, suitors devour his estate and pressure his wife Penelope to remarry. His son Telemachus must grow into a man without a father. The gods debate his fate while mortals act. This is a poem about the endurance of the human spirit against overwhelming odds, about cunning surviving where brute force fails, about the bonds that hold us to our truest selves when the world tries to remake us. Fagles' translation captures that ancient music in a contemporary voice. Three thousand years later, it remains the definitive account of what it costs to return home.
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“Of all creatures that breathe and move upon the earth, nothing is bred that is weaker than man.””
— Homer
“There is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep.””
— Homer
“There is nothing more admirable than when two people who see eye to eye keep house as man and wife, confounding their enemies and delighting their friends.””
— Homer
“A man who has been through bitter experiences and travelled far enjoys even his sufferings after a time””
— Homer
“Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier; I have seen worse sights than this.””
— Homer
“For a friend with an understanding heart is worth no less than a brother””
— Homer
“Men are so quick to blame the gods: they saythat we devise their misery. But theythemselves- in their depravity- designgrief greater than the griefs that fate assigns.””
— Homer
“Sleep, delicious and profound, the very counterfeit of death””
— Homer
“My name is Nobody.””
— Homer























