Intro. [Recording date: June 23, 2026.]
Russ Roberts: Welcome to another edition of the EconTalk Book Club. Today, June 23, 2026, we dive into the second installment of our exploration of The Iliad by Homer.
Joining me is the accomplished poet and author Dwayne Betts, marking his fifth appearance on the show. We last spoke in June 2024 about Martin Luther King Jr.’s Letter from Birmingham Jail.
Dwayne, it’s great to have you back on EconTalk.
Dwayne Betts: Thank you! It’s a joy to be here. Although, I must admit, it seems Mike Munger’s record for appearances is now out of my reach.
Russ Roberts: It’s all right—
Dwayne Betts: And, just for fun, Bryce Harper just hit for the cycle. So, who knows? Maybe I can hit for an EconTalk version of that cycle!
Russ Roberts: Right. Well, you could at least tie him in June 2026 appearances: one for you, zero for Mike Munger.
Dwayne Betts: And I also have a New York Times article out that’s worth discussing, but for now, let’s focus on The Iliad.
Russ Roberts: Let’s get started. The spark for this conversation ignited when I mentioned via email that I was reading The Iliad for the first time and you expressed your interest in reading it alongside me. So, like me, you are exploring this epic for the first time. What are your initial thoughts?
Dwayne Betts: I wanted to experience reading a text I was somewhat familiar with, but in a shared context. When you mentioned you hadn’t read it, I felt compelled to ask if we could read it together, even though I hadn’t read it either. Yet, I must say, it turned out to be a questionable decision.
Russ Roberts: Oh? Why’s that?
Dwayne Betts: Well, we started discussing this at the beginning of June, right?
Russ Roberts: Yes.
Dwayne Betts: I had a documentary premiere at Tribeca on June 8th, followed by my first solo art exhibit on June 19th. I only began reading The Iliad actively on June 20th. In the last three days—
Russ Roberts: Three days ago—
Dwayne Betts: I was still on Book Two! When you asked me for my favorite passages, I was only on Book Nine. But this whole experience is why I’m grateful it unfolded this way. It reminded me of binge-watching a series, where you become so immersed that it becomes part of your daily life.
Russ Roberts: Absolutely.
Dwayne Betts: But it also brought me back to how we used to read when we were younger—fully engaged with the text. Nowadays, it’s harder to achieve that depth of immersion. Even if you read a lengthy book over a few months, the content tends to disperse in your mind. However, I was deeply engaged, often reading for hours each day. Just yesterday, I walked 28,000 steps, Kindle in hand, weaving through traffic, and it felt like every step connected me to The Iliad.
Moreover, reading this epic connected me to personal memories. A dear friend of mine, Melvin Davis, who was a brilliant veteran, recently passed away. His death eased his suffering, and I thought about our conversations rooted in storytelling. Even while reading The Iliad, I reflected on him.
One of our last discussions revolved around a musket, a tool of war, yet we were able to intertwine those stories with the struggles for glory. It felt like a means to honor him as he transitioned to another journey.
Overall, it was a beautiful experience. I feel like I’m still in a blissful fever dream that reshaped my understanding of life through this ancient yet refreshingly new story.
Russ Roberts: I’m glad to hear that. The book comprises 24 books, meaning 24 chapters. To clarify, in the Fagles translation, which I read—there are many good translations—it’s about a 500- or 600-page work. I don’t want anyone listening to think, ‘Oh my, a 600-page poem; I’ll never get through it.’ But you managed it in three days. You’re a poet, so perhaps that’s a bit exceptional. I also sprinted through the last third in the past week. Knowing Homer’s narrative style, I was aware of many of the story arcs in advance.
To simplify: This tale is not solely about the Trojan War; it focuses on a specific episode during its tenth year, where Achilles feels wronged by Agamemnon. We discussed this in our first episode with Ido Hevroni. Agamemnon takes a woman from Achilles, an act that appears grotesque but is emblematic of their era. Consequently, Achilles withdraws from fighting, sulking in his tent. His anger leads him to request through his goddess mother that Zeus allow Hector and the Trojans to slay many of his comrades, so he’ll be needed back in battle. Tragically, this backfires; his dear friend Patroclus is killed, prompting Achilles’ return to vengeance against Hector, who had slain Patroclus. The book concludes with the poignant encounter between Priam, Hector’s father, and Achilles, as Priam pleads for his son’s body.
Now, what were your positive and negative experiences with the book, and what surprised you?
Dwayne Betts: I was surprised to find myself weeping at the end.
Russ Roberts: Oh, yes.
Dwayne Betts: I did know what was going to happen.
Russ Roberts: Indeed, it’s profoundly moving.
Dwayne Betts: Another striking realization was a quote I read years ago regarding Vietnam: it suggested that while choices appeared plentiful, in reality, they were non-existent. This sentiment echoed throughout the book for me.
Homer skillfully crafts characters who seem to have many choices, yet ultimately possess none. This tension propels you through the text. Even though I knew what would unfold next, I still read as if the characters had agency.
Russ Roberts: Correct.
Dwayne Betts: The juxtaposition of moments in the story reminded me of The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien, where characters are more than just soldiers; they possess lives beyond the battlefield, evoking a mixture of honor and sorrow.
Russ Roberts: That’s a powerful comparison.
Dwayne Betts: The book surprised me with its ability to explore complex themes of friendship, love, trust, and anger. It reflects experiences where one feels trapped, similar to my own past experiences. Having gone to prison at 16, I often felt my fate was sealed after committing my crime, even though survival was never guaranteed. However, I learned to seek choices even within dire constraints.
In essence, The Iliad depicts a world where characters seem devoid of choices, yet they continually animate the notion of making choices amidst overwhelming adversity. My time in prison was a testament to finding paths even when outcomes appeared predetermined.
Achilles expresses this notion when he remarks, “Don’t predict my death. I know it’s inevitable, yet I still have choices to make in the meantime.” It was a beautiful realization.
Russ Roberts: Listeners who might not know Dwayne should check out our earlier episodes, where he shares an extraordinary story of his prison experience and the life he built afterward. However, today, we’ll center our discussion on The Iliad.
As we delve deeper, the role of the gods in the story becomes increasingly nuanced. Initially, they appear to toy with human fates, but as the narrative unfolds, their involvement becomes more intricate.
I want to highlight a point made by Ido Hevroni in our previous episode: there are about a thousand characters in this epic, which may sound daunting, especially for those accustomed to Russian novels. Yet, most names make brief appearances, and the narrative primarily revolves around a handful of remarkable warriors on both the Greek and Trojan sides, alongside a few women and goddesses.
Dwayne Betts: The introduction of characters is also fascinating. A friend of mine was reading Virginia Woolf’s letters, where she often thanks the other person for their correspondence before diving into her thoughts. This structure conveys, ‘I heard you.’
I believe Homer employs a similar technique throughout The Iliad.
Russ Roberts: Indeed.
Dwayne Betts: For instance, when Agamemnon sends Odysseus to speak to Achilles, he instructs him to relay his message verbatim. Later, when Odysseus addresses Achilles, he repeats the exact wording, creating echoes within the text. The characters’ names serve to illustrate the broader ramifications of war beyond just the central figures; they encompass familial ties and connections.
Russ Roberts: Absolutely.
Dwayne Betts: This structural element allowed me to truly engage with the text. I read every word, even though I feared I might skim due to my familiarity with the story.
Russ Roberts: I had a similar experience.
Dwayne Betts: I’ve mentioned before how my father didn’t have the life I’ve experienced. When I went to prison, I changed my name and was called Shahid, but upon returning home, my friends and family called me Dwayne again. This duality of identity sparked questions about why I use my full name, Reginald Dwayne Betts. In doing so, I honor my father’s legacy.
Much of The Iliad is about lives cut tragically short. It reminds us that invoking someone’s name transcends mere recognition; it acknowledges their existence within a narrative marked by war.
As Yehuda Amichai writes in his poem, “The Diameter of a Bomb,” the consequences of violence ripple outward, encompassing everyone.
Russ Roberts: Which poem is that you referenced?
Dwayne Betts: It’s Yehuda Amichai’s “The Diameter of the Bomb.”
Russ Roberts: I’m unfamiliar with it.
Dwayne Betts: You’ve never heard that? I first encountered it in prison, and it profoundly shaped my perspective on suffering.
The Diameter of the Bomb
[by Yehuda Amichai]The diameter of the bomb was thirty centimeters
and the diameter of its effective range about seven meters,
with four dead and eleven wounded.
And around these, in a larger circle
of pain and time, two hospitals are scattered
and one graveyard. But the young woman
who was buried in the city she came from,
at a distance of more than a hundred kilometers,
enlarges the circle considerably,
and the solitary man mourning her death
at the distant shores of a country far across the sea
includes the entire world in the circle.
And I won’t even mention the crying of orphans
that reaches up to the throne of God and
beyond, making a circle with no end and no God.
Russ Roberts: Wow, that’s powerful. I’ve never encountered that before. It’s striking.
Russ Roberts: I want to touch on another detail that may have escaped our earlier discussion. Similar to Russian literature, characters in The Iliad often receive patronymics—additional names reflecting their lineage. For instance, Agamemnon and Menelaus are both referred to as Atrides, meaning ‘sons of Atreus.’ It’s a simple yet effective naming convention.
One powerful aspect of the poem is the constant invocation of home. This theme becomes central in The Odyssey, which follows the struggle to return home. Frequently, characters will taunt their adversaries by claiming they’ll never return home, destined to be consumed by beasts on the plains of Troy. This serves as a terrifying fate for them.
Dwayne Betts: I find myself yearning to read the original text.
Russ Roberts: Certainly.
Dwayne Betts: There’s a line describing the Argives’ resilience: ‘The Argives held tight as a working widow holds the scales.’ Homer skillfully connects the soldier’s experience to the broader themes of life.
This connection illustrates that the narrative isn’t solely about war; it encompasses family, friendship, and the inherent sorrow of existence.
Russ Roberts: Absolutely. Another aspect that stands out is the book’s cinematic quality. For instance, I’ll read a brief excerpt that exemplifies this vivid imagery, involving Ares, the god of war. Here’s a passage from Book XVI:
Just then Aeneas hurled his brazen spear at Meriones,
hoping to hit the man as he charged behind his shield.
But he eyed Aeneas straight on, he dodged the bronze,
ducking down with a quick lunge, and behind his back
the heavy spearshaft plunged and stuck in the earth,
the butt-end quivering into the air till suddenly
rugged Ares snuffed its fury out, dead still.
That striking image captures the tension and immediacy of combat.
Dwayne Betts: Indeed, the brutality of the text is matched only by its vividness.
Russ Roberts: Right.
Dwayne Betts: The explicit descriptions of violence are unflinching. Yet they are juxtaposed with a constant acknowledgment of the cost of war. Characters chase glory and fortune, but they are acutely aware of the toll it takes.
For example, there’s a passage that narrates the death of Hippotus, a character driven by fame. It opens with: ‘No Trojans could save him now, strain as they might…’ and it follows with a graphic account of his demise, reminding readers that every action has repercussions.
Russ Roberts: Yes, it’s fascinating how often the characters’ actions resonate with their families and communities. Even in the pursuit of honor, the narrative underscores the interconnectedness of their choices.
Dwayne Betts: Exactly. Their actions ripple outward, affecting not only themselves but also their families. The narrative fosters a sense of democracy in the violence; even among the gods, there’s a complexity in their motivations.
Take Zeus, for instance—he can be swayed by reason rather than just emotion. At one point, he considers saving his son, Sarpedon, but is reminded of the natural order of life and death.
Russ Roberts: Yes, that’s a compelling observation.
Dwayne Betts: The narrative reflects life’s contradictions: one can be powerful yet still influenced by reason and compassion. The gods’ interactions with mortals exemplify this duality.
Russ Roberts: Speaking of plot, let’s clarify a critical moment. Achilles, initially refusing to engage in battle, allows his best friend Patroclus to fight. He instructs Patroclus to limit his pursuit, yet, tragically, Patroclus is killed by Hector. Following this, Achilles, grieving, seeks vengeance.
One striking element of the narrative is the emotional weight behind Achilles giving Patroclus his armor. This act highlights their bond, and after Hector kills Patroclus, he dons Achilles’ armor, which serves as a powerful symbol of conflict and identity.
Moreover, the book emphasizes two motifs: the taking of armor as a trophy and the imperative to protect the body from desecration. Much of the narrative centers on efforts to reclaim Patroclus’ body to prevent it from being consumed by animals.
Dwayne Betts: Absolutely. Achilles’ subsequent actions reveal the brutality and irony of war—he drags Hector’s body behind his chariot for days, yet the gods intervene to prevent its decay.
Russ Roberts: Yes, and it’s a significant theme that some bodies remain pristine while others do not, often reflecting the character’s moral standing.
Dwayne Betts: It reinforces the notion that war is not about mere glory; it’s a tragic cycle affecting everyone involved. The characters’ humanity persists, even amidst violence.
Russ Roberts: Indeed. It’s a poignant reminder of the sacrifices made and the interconnectedness of their fates.
Russ Roberts: As we explore Achilles’ character, it’s evident he undergoes a transformation. Initially, he appears selfish and merciless, but by the end, there’s a redemptive arc. What are your thoughts on this evolution?
Dwayne Betts: Achilles’ journey is compelling. He begins as a figure of rage, yet his grief over Patroclus’ death catalyzes a shift. The moment he meets Priam, acknowledging their shared loss, showcases a profound human connection.
Priam’s plea to Achilles to return Hector’s body is laden with emotions, representing a complex interplay of grief, honor, and the harsh realities of war.
Russ Roberts: Yes, and that moment encapsulates the humanity within the brutality. It’s a beautiful juxtaposition.
Dwayne Betts: The exchange between Achilles and Priam is extraordinary. Priam, despite being the father of his slain enemy, seeks understanding and compassion. This moment transcends the violence of their past and illustrates the shared experience of mourning.
Russ Roberts: I completely agree. It’s a remarkable scene that reveals the depth of their characters.
Dwayne Betts: Moreover, the role of food and hospitality is significant. Despite being adversaries, they share a meal, symbolizing the bond that can exist even amidst conflict.
Russ Roberts: Absolutely. It highlights the importance of connection and empathy.
Dwayne Betts: Priam’s dignity remains intact as he appeals to Achilles, invoking fatherhood as a powerful motivator. Achilles recognizes this shared humanity, transforming the moment into something deeply meaningful.
Russ Roberts: That’s beautifully articulated.
Russ Roberts: As we reflect on mortality and mercy, consider Achilles’ encounter with Lycaon, where he offers no mercy, highlighting the paradox of his character. Despite being aware of his own mortality, he remains ruthless.
Achilles’ brutal response to Lycaon underscores the complexity of his character, revealing a harsh reality: even the strongest can be vulnerable to fate.
Dwayne Betts: Achilles’ self-awareness is striking. He recognizes the inevitability of death, yet his actions remain steeped in violence, illustrating the paradox of power and vulnerability.
Russ Roberts: Exactly. It’s a haunting portrayal of a man caught in the throes of rage and grief.
Dwayne Betts: This tension sets the stage for Achilles’ transformation. The contrast between his ruthlessness and the compassion he ultimately shows to Priam is significant.
Russ Roberts: Yes, and it speaks to the capacity for redemption and understanding amidst chaos.
Russ Roberts: As we delve deeper into Achilles’ character, we see the layers of his transformation. Initially, he is consumed by anger, but upon losing Patroclus, he becomes deeply vulnerable, weeping uncontrollably. This emotional depth reveals a more complex individual.
Furthermore, the narrative slows down during the funeral games for Patroclus, highlighting the significance of community and shared grief.
Dwayne Betts: The games serve as a poignant reminder of life’s fleeting nature. They honor Patroclus while also uniting the community in their shared loss.
Russ Roberts: Yes, and they also illustrate the intersection of competition and mourning.
Dwayne Betts: Exactly. Priam’s visit to Achilles encapsulates this intertwining of grief and humanity, as he seeks the return of Hector’s body. The gods facilitate this meeting, showcasing the profound bond shared between them despite their enmity.
Russ Roberts: It’s an extraordinary moment that transcends the narrative’s violence.
Dwayne Betts: Indeed. The exchange emphasizes that even amidst brutality, empathy can prevail.
Russ Roberts: Reflecting on the enduring human need for closure, consider the significance of bodies in both historical and contemporary contexts. The longing to reclaim a body—like Priam’s desire for Hector—reflects a universal need for closure and acknowledgment.
Dwayne Betts: Absolutely. The text suggests that mourning requires connection to the deceased, as evidenced by Priam’s plea. The ritual surrounding the body initiates a healing process.
Russ Roberts: Yes, and it highlights the deep emotional resonance tied to loss.
Dwayne Betts: Moreover, the body serves as a vessel for memories, and the rituals surrounding it foster communal healing. The emphasis on honoring the dead creates space for reflection and connection among the living.
Russ Roberts: It’s a profound commentary on the human experience.
Russ Roberts: Dwayne, as we wrap up, do you have any final thoughts on The Iliad and your experience reading it?
Dwayne Betts: I’m grateful for the opportunity to engage with this text in such a meaningful way. It’s remarkable how literature can deepen friendships and foster connections. This experience has reshaped my understanding of storytelling and its power to evoke emotion.
Russ Roberts: That’s beautifully said. Your insights have greatly enriched our discussion. Thank you for sharing your thoughts on The Iliad.
Dwayne Betts: Thank you for the platform to share my perspective.
