Intro. [Recording date: May 25, 2026.]
Russ Roberts: Today is May 25th, 2026, and I have the pleasure of welcoming Ido Hevroni, my esteemed colleague at Shalem College. For the last 13 years, Ido has introduced students to the epic narratives of The Iliad and The Odyssey by Homer. This episode marks the inaugural discussion for the EconTalk Book Club, focusing specifically on The Iliad. I highly recommend diving into this text; we’ll be utilizing the translation by Robert Fagles, though there are many other translations available.
And a note for parents: This episode may contain adult themes, so you might want to preview it beforehand.
Ido, welcome to EconTalk.
Ido Hevroni: Thank you. I’m thrilled to be here.
Russ Roberts: When did you first encounter The Iliad, and what prompted you to read it?
Ido Hevroni: My journey didn’t begin with reading The Iliad directly. It started with my fascination with the themes and stories surrounding the Trojan War, particularly the Trojan horse. As a child, my father would sit with me on Saturdays, flipping through an old encyclopedia filled with captivating illustrations. It was there that I fell in love with the story—not necessarily the text itself. It took me years before I actually engaged with the book.
In Israel, The Iliad is less commonly read compared to its status in America or Europe. Most high school students here have not encountered it, while many in the U.S. do read at least portions. My formal introduction occurred at university, where I studied literature and psychology. I had a brief introduction to Western literature, including a few lines from Homer. However, it wasn’t until I embraced the concept of liberal education, which is less prevalent in Israel, that I began to self-educate and truly explore these texts. My first serious reading was approximately 15 or 16 years ago, a few years before my tenure at Shalem College.
Russ Roberts: What were your impressions when you approached it seriously as an adult?
Ido Hevroni: It’s quite a strange experience. Many might find it surprising that The Iliad, which translates to the story of the Trojan War, isn’t actually centered on the war itself. I hate to break it to some listeners, but the Trojan horse is absent from the narrative.
Diving into the text requires patience, particularly in understanding the gods—something I was somewhat familiar with due to my interest in Greek mythology. It takes time to grasp the book’s essence. However, I found that the best way to study it was to teach it. Engaging with students and guiding their understanding helped me deepen my own comprehension of the text.
Russ Roberts: We’ll return to the student aspect shortly. For those listening who may not be scholars or classicists, why do you think they should read The Iliad? What makes it relevant for a thoughtful, curious person?
Ido Hevroni: There are two perspectives I can offer. Firstly, The Iliad and The Odyssey represent the foundational DNA of Western culture. If you are interested in understanding Western civilization or even critiquing it, this is where it all begins. Hollywood narratives, notions of heroism, and many of our cultural understandings can trace their roots back to these texts.
Moreover, these works predate philosophy by several centuries, serving as some of the earliest documents of Western thought. This provides a rational reason to engage with them.
The second perspective is more experiential. When you read it seriously—seriously does not imply professionally—you uncover profound truths and depths that resonate with our contemporary existence. The effort is undeniably worthwhile.
Russ Roberts: I admit, I had never read it before. I had tackled parts of The Odyssey, but I had always dismissed The Iliad as merely about killing. It seemed less interesting to me. I viewed it as just a precursor to The Odyssey. However, now that I’m about halfway through, I find it to be a stunning work. Like The Odyssey, it possesses a cinematic quality. You alluded to Hollywood—many scenes feel like a movie unfolding before my eyes.
A friend compared it to a Tarantino script; the violence is graphic and detailed, going beyond mere mentions of death to describe the gory specifics. For my generation, it’s more reminiscent of Sam Peckinpah. The psychological insights into the human heart in wartime are not limited to war; they encompass broader themes like negotiation, frailty, ego, and pride. Indeed, this is where it all began, and it’s remarkable to see how contemporary narratives riff off these themes.
Russ Roberts: You’ve read and taught it numerous times. How does your understanding now differ from when you first approached it as an adult 10 or 15 years ago?
Ido Hevroni: My experience has evolved significantly. Each year, I find I understand it better, especially since I teach in a dialogue with my students rather than lecturing. They read and then we discuss, and each serious discussion often gives me fresh insights into the text.
Additionally, over the past three years, I’ve had the unique experience of teaching students who have returned from war. In Israel, everyone is affected by the ongoing conflict, and this context has deepened my understanding of the book and how I can guide my students through it.
Russ Roberts: I think it’s important to mention that the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) often receive a mixed reputation. For those unfamiliar, it’s noteworthy that Israel’s military service includes a large number of young individuals—ages 18 to 20—who are drafted. Almost everyone serves, except for specific communities. This means our students, often around 25 years old, have firsthand experience in combat when they arrive at Shalem. When a war breaks out, they return to service, not merely as administrative backups but as active participants in battle.
Thus, you’ve been working with students who have witnessed horrors that no one should have to endure. This has made reading The Iliad a therapeutic experience for them. It’s a very different reading experience than for those of us untouched by such trauma.
Ido Hevroni: Yes, I’ve received similar feedback from American veterans, many of whom find resonance in the text. There are even book clubs for veterans in various places across the U.S. I personally served in the Reserves until I was 40, so while I haven’t experienced war like my students, I have a son-in-law currently in Lebanon, who recently lost a friend. The scenes in The Iliad resonate deeply with us.
However, I believe it’s essential to emphasize that while the book speaks profoundly to individuals who have experienced combat, it also serves as a lens for examining humanity, which is relevant to everyone. Milan Kundera once said that literature is a laboratory for understanding the human condition, allowing us to explore scenarios that we cannot in real life. Literature challenges our values and behaviors when faced with danger and moral dilemmas. This is why The Iliad holds significance for those who haven’t experienced war firsthand.
Russ Roberts: It’s indeed a crucible, where human experiences are forged and tested. Extraordinary literature has emerged from the chaos of war—everything from Tolstoy’s War and Peace to Heller’s Catch-22. These narratives attempt to understand the human condition through the intense lens of conflict.
Russ Roberts: Having lived in America until coming here, I viewed war as something historical. I didn’t particularly enjoy The Naked and the Dead or Catch-22, as war is inherently depressing and unnatural. However, The Iliad forces us to confront the reality that violence has been part of the human experience since time immemorial. Even in ancient texts like the story of Cain and Abel, we see this theme of violence.
Ido Hevroni: It seems that while people may shy away from reading war-related literature, much of the media we consume is saturated with violence. Movies and series often depict graphic violence, but they lack the depth that literature offers. Reading allows for a degree of distance, enabling critical thought, whereas visual media can blunt our moral faculties. Engaging with a literary work gives readers the opportunity to develop their moral reasoning, making literature about war potentially more beneficial than watching violent films.
Russ Roberts: That’s an insightful observation—much of popular culture is steeped in violence. A friend of mine, a rabbi, once found himself in a hospital room with the TV blaring continuously. He had never owned a television and remarked that the content was largely about violence and romance: ‘A lot of kissing and killing.’ While The Iliad features its share of violence, it offers a richer tapestry of human experience beyond mere killing.
Moreover, there are moments in the text where I find parallels with contemporary superhero narratives. The characters in The Iliad often resemble superheroes—Achilles embodies the traits of Superman, while Hector represents an invincible warrior until he faces another comparable figure. Just as we see in superhero films today, Homer’s characters operate outside the conventional rules of combat.
Ido Hevroni: Certainly, but the complexities in Homer’s work provide a more profound commentary than what we often see in commercial cinema. Psychologists from Freud to Jung have explored the human need for myth, especially in the wake of the Enlightenment, which often discredited traditional narratives. Myths convey deep truths about the world that sometimes elude realistic portrayals in literature. Thus, engaging with these texts offers a serious avenue for reflection on our lives.
Russ Roberts: That’s an excellent point about the value of myths.
Russ Roberts: Let’s discuss an aspect of the book that surprised me. I had assumed The Iliad was primarily about the Trojan War, but it actually focuses on a specific episode occurring nine years into the conflict. Furthermore, the role of the gods is unexpected. One of my favorite children’s stories involves a tailor who repurposes material, akin to the dual narratives in The Iliad. The mortals are engaged in their struggles while, simultaneously, the gods are embroiled in their own petty conflicts that bleed into human affairs. Can you elaborate on the role of the gods in this narrative?
Ido Hevroni: From my perspective, it’s crucial to grasp that the ancient Greeks operated under a polytheistic framework, contrasting sharply with modern monotheistic views. The gods in this narrative are not the creators of the world, nor do they govern morality; they are forces of nature and psychological powers. Understanding this is vital because it reflects the belief that there are powers beyond human comprehension.
Aphrodite serves as a significant character, initiating much of the conflict. The backstory involves a series of events leading to the Trojan War, including the Judgment of Paris, where the gods compete for a golden apple. The dynamics between the goddesses—Aphrodite, Hera, and Athena—highlight the different motivations and values at play, from beauty and power to strategic wisdom.
Ultimately, the gods function not as moral arbiters but as reflections of the human condition, influencing the characters’ actions and decisions in ways that reveal deeper truths about humanity.
Russ Roberts: The narrative introduces Priam, the King of Troy, whose sons, particularly Hector and Paris, play pivotal roles. The story opens with what is known as a proem, an invocation of the muse. Can you explain the significance of this opening?
Ido Hevroni: The proem sets the stage for the narrative. The poet positions himself as a conduit for the divine voice, calling upon the muse to guide the storytelling. It’s a way to establish the themes and focus of the epic, particularly emphasizing the rage of Achilles, which becomes central to the unfolding events.
Russ Roberts: In this context, it’s worth noting that many characters are identified by their lineage, often their fathers. For instance, Zeus is described as the son of Cronus, while Achilles is referred to as the son of Peleus. This can be disorienting for readers initially, but it becomes clearer with continued reading. The Greeks are referred to by multiple names, such as Achaeans or Argives, which can add to the complexity. Let’s look at the opening lines of The Iliad.
Rage—Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus’ son Achilles,
murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses,
hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls,
great fighters’ souls, but made their bodies carrion,
feasts for the dogs and birds,
and the will of Zeus was moving toward its end.
Begin, Muse, when the two first broke and clashed,
Agamemnon lord of men and brilliant Achilles.
[Homer’s Iliad, Book 1]
What makes this opening significant?
Ido Hevroni: For the original audience, the background context would have been familiar. The proem serves to clarify the focus of the narrative, which is primarily concerned with Achilles’ rage and its consequences—notably, the impact on his comrades and the Greek army. The emphasis on rage sets the tone for the entire epic, illustrating the profound psychological and social implications of personal anger within the broader context of war.
Russ Roberts: Before we delve deeper into Achilles’ rage, it’s crucial to understand the role of women in this warrior culture. Their roles are complex, encompassing aspects of power and objectification, which can be uncomfortable for modern readers. Can you elaborate on this?
Ido Hevroni: In this society, women are often viewed as trophies of victory. When a city is sacked, the men are killed, while women may be taken as slaves or worse. This reality is at the heart of the conflict that ignites the narrative.
Russ Roberts: To further illustrate, Achilles captures Briseis after killing her husband and brothers. At the story’s outset, Briseis belongs to Achilles. When Agamemnon loses his own war prize, he decides to take Briseis from Achilles, provoking Achilles’ wrath. Instead of fighting back, Achilles retreats, allowing his comrades to suffer at the hands of Hector and the gods’ interventions. Agamemnon justifies his actions by claiming a desire for recompense, stating:
“… I prefer her by far, the girl herself.
I want her mine in my own house! I rank her higher
than Clytemnestra, my wedded wife–she’s nothing less
in build or breeding, in mind or works of hand.
But, I am willing to give her back, even so,
if that is best for all…
What I really want
is to keep my people safe, not see them dying.
But, fetch me another prize, and straight off too,
else I alone of the Argives go without my honor.
That would be a disgrace. You are all witness,
look–my prize is snatched away!”
[Book 1. Italics in original–Econlib Ed.]
In this moment, Agamemnon’s selfishness becomes apparent. He insists on maintaining his honor, even at the risk of the lives of his men. Achilles, the swift runner, responds:
But, the swift runner
Achilles answered him at once, “Just how, Agamemnon,
great field marshal… most grasping man alive,
how can the generous Argives give you prizes now?
I know of no troves of treasure, piled, lying idle,
anywhere. Whatever we dragged from towns we plundered,
all’s been portioned out. But collect it, call it back
from the rank and file? That would be the disgrace.
So return the girl to the god, at least for now.
We Achaeans will pay you back, three, four times over,
if Zeus will grant us the gift, somehow, someday,
to raze Troy’s massive ramparts to the ground.”
[Book 1. Italics in original–Econlib Ed.]
What happens next?
Ido Hevroni: Achilles’ refusal of Agamemnon’s offer highlights his deep sense of betrayal. Agamemnon’s actions represent a significant breach of trust, especially in a society where loyalty and honor are paramount. The tension between personal ego and communal responsibility becomes a central theme, as Achilles grapples with his desire for honor against his moral principles.
Russ Roberts: Agamemnon’s misguided justification for his actions underscores the destructive nature of ego in leadership. He attempts to play the role of benevolent leader while simultaneously undermining the very fabric of trust that binds his men together.
Ido Hevroni: Exactly, and this dynamic serves as a cautionary tale about the consequences of leadership driven by pride and self-interest. Achilles’ subsequent refusal to engage in battle not only reflects his personal grievances but also the broader implications of a fractured command.
Russ Roberts: As the story unfolds, the Achaeans face dire consequences due to Achilles’ withdrawal. The narrative highlights the intricate interplay between personal honor, leadership, and the collective fate of the warriors. Agamemnon’s attempts to rectify the situation reveal the challenges of leadership and the difficulty of regaining trust once lost. This theme resonates deeply in our contemporary understanding of leadership dynamics.
Ido Hevroni: The implications of Achilles’ choices extend beyond his personal grievances. His refusal to fight signifies a rebellion against the established norms of honor and valor. The narrative compels readers to reflect on the cost of pride and the fragility of trust in the face of conflict.
