Conclusion

It is again simply important to note, in conclusion, that Homer's The Iliad and Wolfgang Petersen's Troy were written for different audiences, different time periods and different cultures. It is for this reason that mythology is excluded in the latter and the empathy element is excluded in the former.

Each one is entertaining and appealing when experienced by people of the intended audience.

Finally, I must acknowledge the limitation of sources contributing to these blog posts. The Iliad was written thousands of years ago ago in a different language; time may have taken its toll on the poem's validity, and the language barrier certainly will have (it is possible that the some translations of passages of The Iliad are disputed, and that poor translations have had a negative impact on my investigation). The specific culture for which the story was dreamed up was different to ours, and, in this way, translators may have had trouble in translating concepts perfectly simple to the Ancient Greeks.

I cannot claim to see into the minds of either Petersen or Homer, and I do not know exactly why they chose certain techniques. This is a limitation because I am unable to make 100% accurate statements about their intentions; I can only speculate.

As Abraham Lincoln famously said, “The problem with the internet is that it is not always reliable.” Considering that I have used many internet sites to help me with my research, I acknowledge this limitation. It is possible that some of my information is incorrect because it was sourced from bad sites.

Bibliography:

http://www.bookrags.com/essay-2004/8/21/21632/5877/

http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2004/05/0514_040514_troy_2.html

http://www.cliffsnotes.com/study_guide/literature/the-iliad/about.html

http://www.toshistation.com/troy/

http://www.stanford.edu/~plomio/history.html

http://www.originallynamed.blogspot.com/

The Empathy Element: Part Two

Along the same train of thought as my last post, the director of the film Troy did not only adapt characters from The Iliad to become less likeable; he, in fact, adapted several characters to become more likeable. In this way, the audience was able to connect to these characters and their emotions and ambitions. The audience learned to care for these characters, and it learned to care for their outcomes.

First of all, the character of Paris is made hugely more likeable in the film than he is in the epic poem. From the beginning, he presents himself as admirable, a hero, a kind person: he shows up in Helen's bedroom, her “knight in shining armour”, to rescue her from her loveless marriage to her repugnant husband. He seems to know exactly what to say to make her happy. He is romantic, he is good-looking. Already, the director gives him an unfair advantage.

But in the poem, is addressed in a manner than accentuates his flaws, something that the film fails to do: “Paris, you handsome, woman-mad deceiver, you shouldn't have been born, or killed unmarried. I wish you had - it would have been far better than having you our shame, whom all suspect, or having the long-haired Acheans laugh when you appear as champion-champion beauty – but have no strength, nor character, nor courage.” (Hektor to Paris, Homer, Iliad, Book 3).

In the scene in which Paris fights Menelaos for Helen, both The Iliad and Troy show that he does not fight to the death. In the former, Aphrodite rescues him, and in the latter, and simply runs away. When this occurs in the film, the audience releases a sigh of relief, glad that a character so empathetic and sympathetic as Paris was spared. But in Ancient Greece, the result of this fight would have been a great dishonour to Paris – not a relief, but a defeat. This is demonstrated by Helen's response in The Iliad: she is disgusted with his cowardice and wishes that he died in the fight, and yet she also claims to love him. This is quite different to the relieved response that occurs in the movie. This scene demonstrates effectively how Paris is made to look like a romantic hero, when in fact he is a coward; a good guy, when in The Iliad he may have been no more good than the Greek king.

Another similar case is drawn with Hector. The movie portrays him as an honourable man, yet Homer portrays him as a coward. In the scene in which Hector fights Achilles over the death of Patroclus, very little fighting actually occurs (in the epic poem). Instead, Hector becomes frightened and runs around the entire city of Troy three times, trying to flee from Achilles. When he finally turns around to face him, he is killed.

Even Achilles' character is altered to make him a more likeable person. In The Iliad, Achilles is a strong, brutal character, who only occassionally cares for others. But in Petersen's Troy, Achilles' character arcs in a way the Homer's original character did not: Achilles becomes a more down-to-earth person throughout the duration of the film (so that the audience will be able to connect with him better). For example, in the epic poem, Achilles mutilates Hector's body far worse than he does in the film; and when he is done, he leaves the corpse for the dogs. Even as he is killing Hektor, Achilles says, “No more entreating, dog, by knees or parents. I only wish my fury would compel me to cut away your flesh and eat it raw for what you've done. No one can keep the dogs off of your head, not if they brought me ransom of ten or twenty times as much, or more.” (Achilles to Hektor, Homer, Iliad, Book 22).

In the film, while Achilles is brutal to some degree, it is a lesser degree, and it is obvious that Achilles is struggling with his humanity – with the good and bad inside of him (a theme that does not appear in the poem). Most people can sympathise with this idea, so most people sympathise with Achilles. When King Priam asks for Hector's body, Achilles then gives it to him, and allows the city twelve days to grieve. Achilles is honoured in the film to the point where the last lines (voiced over) of the film are dedicated to him: “If they ever tell my story, let them say I walked with giants. ... Let them say I lived in the time of Achilles.”

Homer does not let us take sides in The Iliad, but Troy encourages us to. It provides us with baddies to hate, and goodies to love and connect with in ways that aren't necessarily true to the original story.

The Empathy Element: Part One

One of the problems with The Iliad, from a modern reader's perspective, is that there is no-one to root for; Homer is ambiguous as to who the goodies and baddies are – if there are goodies and baddies at all. With most modern films and novels, there is at least one character with whom the audience or reader can really get behind and support on the basis that they are very likeable (sympathetic) or very relatable (empathetic). For some reason, whether it be a common trait between the audience and the viewer or an admiring characteristic of heroism or charm or passion possessed by the character, the audience feels compelled to wish the best for that character. This is one of the principles of storytelling that causes the audience to become emotionally invested in the story.

But The Iliad was written when the idea of literary theory was just dawning, in a culture that is different to ours. At that time, empathy was not a big deal to writers – and, so, the result is an epic poem that doesn't favour a specific side or specific characters.

Wolfgang Petersen understood, in his creation of the film Troy that 21^st century viewers would be confused and unsatisfied by this, so he altered several characters from the original epic poem, putting a negative emphasis on the Greeks, especially Agamemnon and Menelaos.

In Homer's original story, Menelaos was a fit, strong man in the prime of his youth. In The Iliad, he is depicted quite positively, shown through this quote from Book XVII: “Brave Menelaus son of Atreus now came to know that Patroclus had fallen, and made his way through the front ranks clad in full armour to bestride him. As a cow stands lowing over her first calf, even so did yellow-haired Menelaus bestride Patroclus. He held his round shield and his spear in front of him, resolute to kill any who should dare face him.” In this extract, Meneloas appears to be a compassionate man who is willing to risk his life to protect a fallen soldier. He seems noble. Also, it is interesting to note that Menelaos is “yellow-haired”, and that this trait is pointed out in this particular part. The reason is this: in Ancient Greek culture, blond hair was desirable and admirable, to the point that many Greeks tried bleaching their hair. That fact that Menelaos, therefore, is a blond man, would make him appear in an even more positive light to Homer's audience.

But the depiction of the same character in Troy does not even come to remotely resembling Homer's. Instead, Menelaos is a man over twice the age of his wife, Helen, with strikingly unhandsome features and a bit of a pot-belly. Not only this, but his personality is also foul: he is a sleazy, drunken man who over-indulges in alcohol and has sex with as many women as he can get his hands on, with no regard for how his wife might emotionally react to this. Achilles verbalises how disgusting Menelaos is by insulting him: “You sack of wine!” This expresses Menelaos' tendency to consume alcohol in large doses and be useful for not much else. The audience sees this portrayal early in the film: we are taught to hate Menelaos from the start.

But it gets worse with the introduction of Agamemnon's character. In The Iliad, Agamemnon is described as a legendary war hero. He is an inspiring figure, rousing his men to practice virtues on the battlefield, such as in this instance: “Be men now, dear friends, and take up the heart of courage, and have consideration for each other in the strong encounters, since more come through alive when men consider each other, and there is no glory when they give way, nor warcraft either.” (Homer, Iliad, 5.529-532).

In the film, however, he appears to be twice as vile as Petersen's Menelaos. He is arrogant, stating, “Before me, Greece was nothing. … I created a nation out of fire worshippers and snake eaters!” On top of his pride, he is constantly creating conflict between himself and Achilles (who is one of the few likeable Greeks in the film), simply out of arrogance. He makes sexual advances on Briseis, Achilles' lover, a captured priestess of Apollo. Eventually he attempts to rape her, but, of course, in true Hollywood style, Briseis manages to stab him and get away. This shows a huge disrespect for women, something that is not tolerated in today's society and thus makes Agamemnon look like a monster. To degrade women further, he says once in the film, “Peace is for women and the weak.” By grouping the weak and women into one group, he offends that entire female audience. This is one of the ways in which we learn to hate this character, too.

Both Agamemnon and Menelaos die humiliating deaths – and this is Petersen's final illustration of their antagonistic roles in the story – in contrast to the original story, in which the two men return to Greece victorious, with Helen reclaimed. While that Greek army does win, the director downplays this by excluding many details that The Iliad includes, and by stressing Agamemnon's and Menelaos's deaths.

Apparently the Ancient Greeks did not require goodies and baddies – but, so often, storytelling today does. The director of Troy understood this, and, therefore, gave the audience these two repulsive men as the baddies.

Mythology: Part Two

As a continuation of my last post, it is important to realise that the mythological content within Homer's The Iliad does not end with Thetis' prophecy of Achilles or the prologue of Helen and Paris' love. It goes much that. In fact, gods, mythology, and Greek religion is seen right throughout the entire epic poem (and the lack thereof can be observed right throughout the film). In particular, consider a few stories and why they were not included in the film:

While The Iliad details only the last few months of the Trojan War, it gives the war its full credit of ten years through the quote “Already have nine years of great Zeus gone by” (Homer, Iliad; 2.134) – unlike the film, which only accredits it seventeen days. At the beginning of that decade, Troy began the huge undertaking of building its wall. For this, they enlisted the help of the Poseidon, sea god, brother of Zeus. However, after the wall had been completed, Poseidon demanded compensation for his efforts, and the Trojans refused. In his fury, Poseidon not only left Troy without divine protection, but actually became its enemy.

However, Poseidon, it seems, was fickle. In another instance, he turned against the Greeks because they would not offer him a sacrifice after he had built them a wall, which was intended to defend the Greek ships. This is evidenced by this quote from The Iliad: “Seest thou not that now again the long-haired Achaeans have builded them a wall to defend their ships, and about it have drawn a trench, but gave not glorious hecatombs to the gods?” (Poseidon to Zeus, Homer, Iliad, 7.448); and Zeus' response: “Go to now, when once the long-haired Achaeans have gone with their ships to their dear native land, then do thou burst apart the wall and sweep it all into the sea, and cover the great beach again with sand, that so the great wall of the Achaeans may be brought to naught of thee.” (Zeus to Poseidon, Homer, Iliad, 7.459). Ultimately, however, Poseidon favoured the Greeks, rather than the Trojans.

When, years later (according to the poem), Troy is defeated, sacked and burned to the ground, there is a huge element of irony. Poseidon was not only associated with the sea (and earthquakes), but also with horses – and of course, the means by which the Greeks managed to penetrate the city was by hiding themselves within a giant horse that the Trojans themselves dragged in.

In The Iliad, the Greeks assemble at Aulis, nine years into the war, getting ready to sail for Troy. However, they are unable to sail because of onshore winds, which had arisen due to the goddess of the Hunt, Artemis, taking extreme offence when Agamemnon, brother of Menelaos, had killed a deer that was sacred to her. As a repayment, Agamemnon is forced to sacrifice his daughter, Iphigeneia, to Artemis, which he does reluctantly, but ultimately willingly. The winds change and the Greeks set sail.

As in the previous post, one reason why these were not included in Wolfgang Petersen's Troy regards pacing. The film focusses of the action of the war in its height (the last few months in The Iliad), and, therefore, has no time to explore such fine details that the two stories above express. While it would have been a clever display of storytelling to include the ironic element of Troy's destruction (by having the first story in the film), the film's plot simply leaves no space for this. And if it were to be included, it would feel tacked-on and unnecessary.

Another reason is this: these myths are morally unacceptable in today's Western society. Of course, Paris' action of whisking Helen away with him to Troy is naïvely idealistic (evidenced by his undeniably quixotical words from the film: “Run away with me.”) and, to some extent, morally wrong, considering that Helen was married – but this is accepted in light of its dreamy, romantic aura. The two myths aforementioned, however, are entirely inappropriate.

The first details divine fury and retaliation, which is not a popular flavour amongst theists. Most theists in today's society take the stance that divine beings benevolent; and, thus, people with such beliefs may have been offended with a divine being acting with such reckless hate. The second is even worse: murder is completely deprecated nowadays, and since we are not accustomed to the ideas of sacrificial rituals, the death of Iphigeneia seems needless and brutal. How could a man kill his own daughter?

Once more, much of Greek mythology does not sit well with us.

That's why so much was omitted.

Mythology: Part One

 The most significant point of difference between The Iliad and Troy is the lack of mythological content in the film compared to the poem. Homer's The Iliad contains a number of sub-plots and tangent stories about the gods of Olympus and their involvement in the Trojan War; indeed, the gods take sides in the war and aid the mortals in their causes. But in the film, the gods are only alluded to, and they never blatantly appear.

In fact, that only god that appears in the film is Achilles' mother, Thetis, who is so subtly portrayed that most people would not realise her divinty and simply think her to be some unimportant woman. However, the director chose not to omit her from the film adaptation because she was the one in the poem to tell Achilles of his fate:

"For my mother the goddess, silver-footed Thetis, tells me that twofold fates are bearing me toward the doom of death: if I abide here and play my part in the siege of Troy, then lost is my home-return, but my renown shall be imperishable; but if I return home to my dear native lane, lost is my glorious renown, yet shall my life long endure, neither shall the doom of death come soon upon me." (Achilles to Odysseus, Homer, Iliad, 9.410)

It was important that she was included in the film adaptation, as this prophecy would not been as authentic coming from any other person. This is because, while the film's audience does not really grasp who the character of Thetis is, it does understand that she is very important to Achilles, probably the person he is closest to. This is why he takes the prophecy seriously, why it means a great deal to him – and why the audience takes it seriously also. Of course, it would not have been possible for Petersen to simply leave out the prophecy altogether, as it offers great insight into Achilles' character as his values; it makes him a more compelling character. The quote from the film is this: "If you go to Troy, glory will be yours. They will write stories about your victories in thousands of years! And the world will remember your name.”

Apart from the single appearance of Thetis, the film does not contain any direct action from the gods. Yet, in the poem, a dispute amongst the gods is the main precursor to the war, as it is the cause for Paris stealing Helen from her husband, Menelaos, and returning to Troy with her. In the film, Helen is trapped in a loveless marriage with a man twice her age, until the handsome, young Paris lustfully appears in her bedroom and quixotically convinces her to run away with him. This is the mythological story of the poem that the film skips over entirely:

At the wedding of the mortal Peleus and the goddess Thetis (who become Achilles' parents), Eris, the goddess of strife, “whose wrath is relentless” (Homer, Iliad, 4.441) throws down a golden apple with the message, “For the Fairest.” Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite all try to claim this gift, which becomes such a major point of contention that no god is willing to resolve the issue.

After a long conference on Mount Ida, a young shepherd boy named Paris, who does not suspect that he is of royal birth (this was because he was exposed on a mountaintop as an infant after it was prophesied that he would cause the downfall of the city Troy, but was later adopted), is chosen to be the judge of the dispute. Each of the three parties offers him a bribe: Athena, victory in battle and supreme wisdom; Hera, rule over all of Asia; but Aphrodite offers Helen, the most beautiful woman in the world, wife of Menelaos, the ruler of Sparta.

Paris soon establishes his legitimacy as a son of King Priam of Troy, after which he claims Aphrodite's bribe, denotes her to be the fairest, and travels to Troy with Helen. The Iliad references this in the Book XXIV: “All were of this mind save only Hera, Poseidon, and Zeus's grey-eyed daughter, who persisted in the hate which they had ever borne towards Ilius with Priam and his people; for they forgave not the wrong done them by Paris in disdaining the goddesses who came to him when he was in his sheepyards, and preferring her who had offered him a wanton to his ruin.” This quote not only references the Judgement of Paris, but also the implications of it in terms of how it caused some of the gods to take sides against Troy.

This mythological story (and such content in general) could have been omitted in Petersen's Troy for several reasons. At the more basic end of the spectrum, it could have been for pragmatic cinematographic reasons, such as budget. It may have been too difficult or costly to create characters that visually appealed to the viewers imaginations as gods (but this is unlikely, because we all know how powerful modern editing technology is).

It could have been due pacing, time constraints, or other storytelling elements. Despite all the background information, Troy remains a film focussed on the war, and everything else is just that: background information. Petersen likely wanted to show more details of the siege, and, therefore, including a long prologue at the start was unnecessary – especially since there was the option to have Helen and Paris fall in love on their own accord (which is what the director opted for).

But another reason, more solid and much more simple, is that Ancient Greek religion is not popular in our society; it does not sit well with most people. Not because it is offensive, but more because we have developed and changed a lot since the Ancient Greeks, and their polytheistic beliefs no longer interest the Western world.

The director found a way out, while still retaining the important details, so he took it.

Introduction

The purpose of this blog is to compare and contrast the film Troy, directed by Wolfgang Petersen, and the epic poem it is based on, Homer's The Iliad. These two works, while similar, have significant differences in story, themes and character portrayal, etc., due to the fact that one is ancient and the other is modern. Thus, their target audiences are completely different; the culture they are each addressing is completely different; and the concepts of empathetic characters between each time period are completely different. The texts cater to these differences.

In other words, they were both written, designed, crafted for the purpose of entertainment – but the modern Western idea of entertainment is vastly different to what the Ancient Greeks' was. Because of this, Petersen felt it necessary to alter many aspects of the Iliad in his movie adaptation so that the latter would appeal more to a modern audience.

In the following posts, I will unpack these alterations.