Welcome to another edition in which I celebrate getting to the end of The Odyssey with my daughter, a moment of grace, one of my favourite things this time of year, a podcast episode I liked and a small tragedy.
1 The OdYssey
My daughter and I finished reading The Odyssey together, four pages at a time, some four nights a week. It was fun and silly reading and if she was in a hard day’s end sour mood, I’d add sound effects, or give characters ponderous voices and she’d swat at me and I’d hurry on with the reading before we’d head out to walk the dog around the block.
Perhaps what I like most about the book was the translator’s passion for the project. Emily Wilson loved The Odyssey from when she was eight years old. In her Translator’s Note at the beginning she writes:
It is traditional in statements like this Translator’s Note to bewail one’s own inadequacy when trying to be faithful to the original. Like many contemporary translation theorists, I believe that we need to rethink the terms in which we talk about translation. My translation is, like all translations, an entirely different text from the original poem. Translation always, necessarily, involves interpretation; there is no such thing as a translation that provides anything like a transparent window through which a reader can see the original. […] I have taken very seriously the task of understanding the language of the original text as deeply as I can, and working through what Homer may have meant in archaic and classical Greece. I have also taken seriously the task of creating a new and coherent English text, which conveys something of that understanding but operates within an entirely different cultural context.
A few lines, and we glimpse a world of “translation theorists” and realize that translation involves a degree of subjectivity in interpretation. Then, Wilson contends not only with bridging language but also time. In an age when translation can seem mechanical, when it is tempting to feel like the job is on the brink of being handed over to A.I., Wilson shows how this work, in her case, is to some degree, an art. I As such, I appreciate how her translator’s note is a little view into a different field of work and research.
2 Grace
When searching to see if I’d already written about The Odyssey on my blog, I found instead a reference to it from a podcast episode of The Ezra Klein Show with Marilynne Robinson.
Her comment at the end, about grace, describing it as she does as the ability “to look beyond the offense” is something I recently felt when I forgot to bring my son to a birthday activity that had been scheduled on a Saturday morning. I felt horrible and apologized to the mother. We don’t know each other but her answer was so kind and understanding, like a person who instead of saying “that’s fine”, takes a moment to write that they as a parent can understand how days are busy and schedules confusing and in spite of that, they still look forward to seeing your son. It was a touching gesture I hope to replicate when someone is late for one of my kids!
3 Gift guides!
This is such a fun time of year when, in anticipation for Christmas, websites everywhere, and TikTokers too, start publishing lists of gift ideas. I realize I really like browsing these curated lists! (A few that are fun: The Kid Should See This, Wirecutter of course, Emily Henderson, and soon, Cup of Jo!)
4 Podcast episode
I really enjoyed a recent episode of the Sporkful: How Judith Jones Changed Cookbooks Forever.
5 The end of the wonky tree
It’s strange to feel sad when you arrive moments after a tree has been cut down…
There are many trees on my walk that I don’t notice, because they are tall or bushy, or further back from the path. But some are sentinels I look toward each day, cleaning the air I breath, standing firm through the seasons. This tree was a wonky tree. It had an endearing shape and over the years, I’d take its picture, just to commemorate its existence.
I think maybe I intuited its coming end, because twice in the past few months I photographed it.
It wasn’t really easy to photograph because it was hard to isolate it in the frame, even though it stands out as you walk by, the path literally curving to accommodate it. It was also striking because its trunk had survived a deep gash.
I still tried, even going back years in my photos, to capture the delight it gave me to see its funny shape.
When the sun would land on it…
When snow would skirt its base…
Dear little wonky tree… thanks for all the years you stayed and arrayed my path, growing despite some strange accident that changed your shape, producing leaves and staying strong as we walked by.