On June 5, Jordi Graupera published an article in Núvol in which, regarding Pau Sabaté's new Catalan translation of the Odyssey (Casa dels Clàssics), he reflected on the difficulty of translating the Greek epithet polýtropos that accompanies Odysseus in the first verse of the poem. Graupera reviews some of these translations and comments that each of them allows for a re-reading of the hero from a new perspective; offering us, in each case, a different character. He is a hero, as he indicates, ambiguous and with many 'folds' and that each generation makes its own and listens to anew. It is not strange, then, that Italo Calvino tried some definitions to define classical works and in one of them affirmed that these works never finish saying what they have to say. We always end up returning to them: we always end up finding something.
We can see this in bookstores because, in addition to the novelty of the Bernat Metge Universal, we will also find two translated editions from English: Stephen Fry's narrative adaptation (translated by Anna Llisterri and published by Ara Llibres) and the translation made by Samuel Butler in 1900 (translated by Xavier Pàmies and edited by Blackie Books). Of the three editions, only Sabaté's maintains the verse and the other two opt for prose. They are, moreover, very different proposals. Samuel Butler is especially remembered for proposing that the author of the Odyssey would have been a young Sicilian woman who appears in the poem under the character of Nausica (The Authoress of the Odyssey [1897]), but also for his prose translations of the Iliad (1898) and the Odyssey (1900). The editors have not incorporated Butler's preface or footnotes, which might allow for a better understanding of his reading of the Odyssey; but which at the same time would distance us from modern lines of study. In this way, Blackie Books opts to rescue his prose version, which is accompanied by illustrations by Calpurnio, among which the amusing introductory gallery of characters stands out.
The other great novelty is the Catalan translation of Stephen Fry's Odyssey which, of the three books, is the one that strays furthest from Homer's original. More than a translation, it is a re-writing with the author's particular humor and voice. The actor has been adapting classical myths for a handful of years and, in 2024, did the same with the Odyssey. The book is not divided into cantos, like the poem, but into several chapters subdivided into scenes. It is a free version that demonstrates Fry's love for the classical world and in which he incorporates not only passages from the Odyssey, but other stories. Therefore, although the story it tells us is the same, in essence it is a completely different work.
Fry's edition is fun and is aimed (though not exclusively) at a younger audience who wants to delve into the classical world. Blackie Books' translation also flows naturally in the narrative and is an aesthetically very carefully crafted edition. Undoubtedly, however, the cathedral-like edition from La Casa dels Clàssics —which features a prologue by Roger Aluja and a closing reading by Dolors Miquel— is the one that brings us closest to Homer's voice. Pau Sabaté had already translated the Iliad (2019) into verse and now also excels in this foundational classic of Western culture.
But what interest can there be today in approaching this work? Mary Beard, in Classics without Filters (2026, Columna) wondered what sense there was in defending the study of "classics" today and argued that they enable a space for debate and allow us to confront a difficult and alien world. Perhaps this is the strength we need in today's society: in a moment of loss of values, of estrangement from political life and social struggles; returning to Homer helps us, more than to close doors, to fight to open them.
