“And now Odysseus, dousing in the river,
scrubbed the coat of brine from back and shoulders
and rinsed the clot of sea-spume from his hair;
got himself all rubbed down, from head to foot,
then he put on the clothes the princess gave him.
Athena lent a hand, making him seem
taller, and massive too, with crisping hair
in curls like petals of wild hyacinth,
but all red-golden. Think of gold infused
on silver by a craftsman, whose fine art
Hephaistos taught him…”
—Homer’s The Odyssey translated by Robert Fitzgerald
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Emily Wilson wrote a substack on her process translating the famous bed scene in Book 23, where Penelope tests Odysseus to prove his identity, intending to upset him with knowledge only he would know. She says the bed he carved from a tree trunk had been moved, implying that another man could move it, and therefore “move” the marriage.
I was curious, so I compared this scene across several more translations, including my own notes on the translations discussed in Wilson's post.
First, I made the most literal translation I could with a Greek word study tool and syntactic context (apologies to people who actually know the language, please feel free to correct me):
She raised this to her husband trying to get proof: but Odysseus
Was sorely angered, and called his diligent, skillful-minded wife:
“O! woman, surely what you said has deeply grieved my heart:
Who has moved/could ever move my bed?”
The core notes of this scene are:
Penelope is clearly testing Odysseus
Odysseus is angry and feels hurt
Penelope is referred to with virtuous qualities, praising her intelligence and her careful/trusty/diligent/loyal nature, depending on how you choose to translate a word
Penelope is referred to in the narration first as “wife" (alochos), but in dialogue Odysseus calls her “woman" (gunai). As Wilson notes, “The use of these two words emphasizes the central question of the scene: whether Penelope is permanently Odysseus' wife, or not (and what it means for her to be his wife, rather than just a woman that he used to know).”
Odysseus calls the bed “my” bed, taking ownership of it with a singular possessive pronoun rather than "our" bed.
Keeping these details in mind, let's look at a selection of translations!
(NOTE: * denotes translations included in Emily Wilson's original substack)
George Chapman (1615):
This said she to assay him, and did stir
Ev’n his establish’d patience; and to her
Whom thus he answer’d: “Woman! your words prove
My patience strangely. Who is it can move
My bed out of his place?
This is the first English translation of The Odyssey, and one that takes several liberties. The use of “assay” is an interesting word choice to describe Penelope’s testing of her husband, and mentioning his patience twice downplays his anger, making it seem that he’s just a bit upset and impatient, but not angered and hurt as the original text implies. This translation also leaves out mention of Penelope’s virtuous traits. I do like the flow of it linguistically, though.
John Ogilby (1665):
Thus said the Queen, her dearest Lord to trie.
But He offended, made this rough Reply;
Strangely you talk, your Order's something od,
Who can remove that Bed, unless some God?
This translation seems to focus mostly on rhyme, which necessitates the warping of some words to keep consistency. Much of the wording feels clunky and archaic to the modern reader (me), and the meter is inconsistent, so it isn't very smooth to read. However, the use of “dearest lord” conveys her loyalty towards Odysseus, and “rough reply” conveys an interesting tone of anger, though his words sound purely questioning and lacking hurt.
Thomas Hobbes (1675):
Thus said she, but to try if that were he,
Yet griev’d him to the heart, and made him doubt.
Woman, said he, who has remov’d my bed?
It cannot be but by a force divine.
This one is a fairly straightforward translation, though Oddysseus' anger is dampened, and it is lacking mention of Penelope as his wife or her virtues. I like the way the meter flows.
Alexander Pope (1725):
Thus speaks the queen, still dubious, with disguise
Touch’d at her words, the king with warmth replies
“Alas for this! what mortal strength can move
The enormous burden, who but Heaven above?
Like Ogilby, Pope is trying to make things rhyme, and this one deviates quite far from the original text. Rather than Odysseus being angry and hurt, he’s instead touched by his wife’s test, and responds with warmth. This completely changes the context of the scene, even though later Pope keeps Penelope’s line “be not angry.”
William Cowper (1791):
So spake she, proving him, and not untouch’d
With anger at that word, thus he replied.
Penelope, that order grates my ear.
Who hath displaced my bed?
This one includes Odysseus' anger, though "grates my ear" carries a different connotation than a grieved heart. This translation also lacks Penelope's virtues and does not refer to her as wife OR woman, just by name.
*Richard Lattimore (1967):
So she spoke to her husband, trying him out, but Odysseus
spoke in anger to his virtuous minded lady:
"What you have said, dear lady, has hurt my heart deeply.
What man has put my bed in another place?..."
The double use of “lady” lacks the differentiation between “woman” and “wife” that changes some of the underlying meaning of the scene. He also adds “DEAR lady,” an endearment that is not present in the original and softens his anger somewhat.
*Robert Fitzgerald (1961):
With this she tried him to the breaking point,
and he turned on her now in a flash raging:
"Woman, by heaven you've stung me now!
Who dared to move my bed?"
The use of “to the breaking point” and “turned on her in a flash raging” add metaphors not present in the Greek, which feels more dramatic and makes Odysseus’ anger more eruptive. This translation lacks the acknowledgement of Penelope’s virtuous qualities, focusing on how her testing makes Odysseus react. The inclusion of “by heaven” feels anachronistic, though one could argue it’s a suitable translation of the exclamative word it stands in for.
*Robert Fagles (1996):
Putting her husband to the proof -- but Odysseus
blazed up in fury, lashing out at his loyal wife:
"Woman -- your words, they cut me to the core!
Who could move my bed?"
Wilson criticizes this translation pretty scathingly, but personally, I like it. While it uses dramatic metaphors of “blazed up” and “lashing out” like Fitzgerald, it feels more fitting for the emotional context, and does not put the onus of Odysseus’ anger solely on Penelope. I also like the use of “who could move my bed”; Wilson criticizes this, saying, “This Odysseus apparently thinks it's really impossible to move the bed.” But I feel that with his self-confidence and the way he describes how he made the bed, that is an apt interpretation of character, as well as a suitably accurate translation as far as my untrained eye understands it.
*Stanley Lombardo (2000):
She was testing her husband. Odysseus
could bear no more and he cried out to his wife:
"By God, woman, now you've cut deep.
Who moved my bed?"
This translation notably removes Odysseus’ anger, as well as Penelope’s virtuous traits, once again putting the weight on her causing him anguish. “By God” is also a clear anachronism; Wilson points out it may be inspired by Fitzgerald’s “by heaven,” but at least the heavens could still be understood in a greek pantheon sense, while a singular capital-G God feels entirely out of place as an exclamation.
So, let us come back to Wilson's translation:
*Emily Wilson (2017)
She spoke to test him and Odysseus
was furious, and told his loyal wife,
"Woman! Your words have cut my heart! Who moved
my bed?"
This translation is quite direct, and hits the important notes with a nice iambic flow.
This is what she says about her own translation, in comparison to the others:
“The others render αὐτὰρ as "but", but it can also mean "and": I used "and", because Odysseus' touchy fury is exactly what Penelope has been aiming to achieve, so it seems to me just as likely to be connective as adversative. I juxtaposed "wife/ Woman!" to underline the central question of which she is, and because it seems to me crucial that the original includes those two distinct words for her role (ἄλοχον ...
γύναι). I enjambed, to move that bed... The original doesn't enjamb "moved/ bed" as such, but it does create a linguistic gap in the line between Odysseus himself (μοι) and the bed (λέχος), which seems to me important in evoking his state of mind – the intertwining of anxiety and grief along with the explicit anger, which come from a horror at an all-too-possible loss of a piece of furniture that is intimately entwined with the speaker’s sense of his own identity. In general, I tried not to add too much; I felt the emphatic particles ἦ μάλα could be conveyed just by the exclamation mark, such that I didn't need to add "By God" or equivalents – which would also risk making the pacing feel slower than the original. I hoped to convey both the emotional intensity and the emotional complexity of this wonderful moment in the poem, without doing too much to ham it up.”
It's interesting to note that aside from Wilson, only Lattimore and Fagles include Penelope's virtuous qualities, and only Fagles and Lombardo include the wife/woman juxtaposition. There are plenty more translations in the years between Cowper and Lattimore, but these were the ones I was able to get easy access to, and I didn't want this to get TOO long. If there's interest, I'm happy to do what I can to compare more translations, or look at other scenes!
Also, for fun, I attempted my own t4anslation to see if I could do one with both rhyme and meter!
Dreaming-mushroom (2025):
She spoke of this to test him, and Odysseus indeed
Was angered to the core, so to his crafty wife he plea’d:
“O woman, these words of yours have deeply grieved my heart;
What man could move that bed of mine, unless a god took part?”
I'm sure this would be a huge challenge to keep up for the entire epic poem, but it was fun to try!
What are your thoughts on the differences in translation for this passage? How do they sound different on the page vs read aloud? Which is your favorite?
Hey hey! So I’ve been planning on reading the aeneid for a while but I’ve been stuck on what translation I should get, you seem to be quite knowledgeable on translations so I would love to hear what you recommend! :)
Oh, I'm so honoured! The Aeneid is right there with the Iliad as my favourite classics (and my favourite books in general, tbh), and I always get so happy when hearing that people want to give it a read!! I'm so excited for you! Let me try to provide some insight... Buckle up because this might get long, I do love a chance to ramble on...
I will start off by saying that I haven't read every Aeneid English translation out there! That would be a monumental task that would likely take years, and not only that, but my mother tongue is Spanish, so I actually first read the Aeneid in that language (and then much of it in Latin, but that was when I was actively working on my Latin, which is sadly very rusty now). I have, however, researched many translations and read a fair handful of them.
Now, we could talk a lot about all the technical aspects of translations (accuracy to Latin, trying to replicate dactylic hexameter in English, etc.), but I think that the thing that we first need to understand when approaching English translations of the Aeneid and of Roman texts in general, is that for centuries the grand majority of these translations reflected the societal romantisation of Rome (let me take a pause to laugh at my own pun here, since 'romance' and 'romantisation' originally were used to refer to something 'in the Roman style' — hence why Latin-derived languages are Romance Languages, and where the modern definition for romance has evolved from). I won't go into why this happened, since it's a murky topic and we'd be here all day, but it meant that a lot of the darker and less appealing parts of the Aeneid (mention of slaves, for example) got translated to "nicer" words. Even Robert Fitzgerald's translation suffers from this at times, being from the 80s as it is, while it also happens to be one of my favourites and the first English translation of the Aeneid I ever read. This is one of the translations that a lot of people swore by before the newer ones of the last couple of decades, since it's also considered by many (myself included) as one of the best, being highly praised for its fidelity.
There have been many translations ever since Fitzgerald's. You'll encounter Robert Fagles' mentioned often, but personally, while I would gladly recommend his Iliad translation any given day and while I think that his Aeneid is a pretty good translation, there's others that I enjoy far more. If you'd like me to explain more about the reasons why I prefer his Iliad rather than his Aeneid, do let me know!
This brings me to Sarah Ruden, a poet and philologist who first published her translation in 2008, and the first woman to translate the Aeneid! Her translation focuses on trying to maintain the poetic aspects of the Aeneid (while using blank verse, which was rather controversial when it first released) and it doesn't sugar-coat the less appealing aspects of it. The language is simple and easy to grasp, and she's pretty good at translating line-by-line.
Here's an example of Ruden's translation, which I had posted a while ago. One of my favourite exerts, about my absolute favourite Roman mythological warrior, Camilla of the Volsci (I love her so much that I've thought of changing my handle to her name haha)
💬 0 🔁 6 ❤️ 12 · Like an Amazon, Camilla with her quiver,
And one breast bared, reveled amid the slaughter,
Now showering a hail of pliant
A revised and expanded version of Ruden's translation was published in 2021, and around the same time, Shadi Bartsch published her own translation (yes, another amazing translation from a woman classicist!)
Funnily enough, I happened to just pick up Bartsch's translation just yesterday, but I've been meaning to read it for a long time. From what I've read myself and what I have for long been told, she does a wonderful job at being accurate to both the Latin line-by-line and the poetry, and like Ruden's, this is also a highly praised modern translation!
Still, as I mentioned in my previous post about this, no translation is perfect, and ultimately liking or disliking a translation is almost entirely subjective (beyond the technical aspects of a good or bad translation). Ruben or Bartsch would be my recommendations if you want a recent translation, or Fitzgerald if you prefer an older one , but there's many others I didn't get to touch on here! For example, Frederick Ahl does something very interesting with trying to create an English version of dactylic hexameter, but personally I'd say that that can be harder to get into as a first read. There's even an incomplete translation by C.S. Lewis now published! And for the record, I'm not saying that all older translations are bad, quite the contrary! As I mentioned, I'm very fond of Fitzgerald's, and while Dryden's wasn't for me, I do have some appreciation for it and can see why it's the most acclaimed and well-regarded pre 20th century translation (1697). I do think that we need to acknowledge that a translation's word-choice can sometimes become dated overtime, and also how society's views of Rome have influenced translations of the Aeneid, which to me is a truly fascinating topic! I love looking into how a translator's perspective influences their translation, since every translation is influenced in this way to some degree — it's inevitable, since we're seeing the translator's interpretation of things!
If you'd like to learn a little more about the history of Aeneid translations in the study of the Classics, the academic journal Athenaeum Review has this wonderful little article by A.M. Juster (he's far more critical of Fagles and Bartsch than I'd be, but like I said, liking a translation comes with a subjective aspect to it)
French departments do not stop teaching French literature after Moliere and Racine, Italian departments do not stop teaching Italian literat
There's also this lovely and very informative article from the blog Found in Antiquity, listing most existing English translations of the Aeneid, which are the most popular, and exploring some of the more technical aspects of English translations (why most of them are in verse, etc.)
Recently, I wanted to compare many different English translator’s approaches to a particular line in Vergil’s Aeneid, but I discovered that
Lastly, I hope that you have a great time with reading the Aeneid! I find it to be a wonderful and fascinating piece of literature, Virgil's writing is incredible, and to me (as someone who focuses on early Roman history, because I have great fondness for it) it's so very important. Maybe I'll do an in-depth post about it later, or about the timeline that connects Aeneas to the founding of Rome in Roman legend.
And, I'm sorry this got so long, I hope that it was at least a little helpful and informative! I did warn that I would ramble on...
Starting my 2025 Epic reads with Homer's The Iliad. I'm doing a side by side comparison of the Robert Fitzgerald translation versus the Emily Wilson one just to get an idea of which style/edition I like more.
Goodreads apparently doesn't allow you to add two editions of the same title on your "currently reading" list, so I'll just manually update the Emily Wilson edition later.
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