Lupita Nyong’o Sums Up the Real Tragedy of Nolan’s Odyssey

Helen of Troy, the woman who launched a thousand ships, is played by Lupita Nyong’o in Christopher Nolan’s Odyssey. She sums up everything that is wrong with our current approach to the foundational texts of Western Civilisation. In an interview with Elle magazine she said:

I really had no idea what The Odyssey was. I was like, “Oh, snap, I don’t know the first thing about this.” So it was a crash course. I picked up the books and read them immediately. I have this film to thank for my Greek mythological education.

In this admission, she represents the vast majority of the population. Most people alive today in the West have been entirely educated without recourse to the classics of Western Civilisation. In spite of being the accomplished daughter of a college professor and having achieved a Master of Fine Arts degree from Yale School, Lupita Nyong’o, like most of us, had not read The Odyssey until made aware of it by Christopher Nolan. While applauding her honesty, we ought to use the buzz around the film to demand that a thorough knowledge of the classics is given to all schoolchildren. One dress-up Ancient Greek day in primary school will not do.

We watched The Odyssey last night and my over-riding response was one of fury: why are relying on Hollywood to tell us stories that should have been memorised and breathed in since childhood? At present, Ancient Greek history is compulsory only in Primary School, where during Key Stage Two children are taught about mythology, daily life, the gods and Olympics. Children involved are between seven and 11 and, after that, their Ancient Greek history ends. Neither The Iliad, The Odyssey, any Greek plays, histories, apologies or symposiums are required to be taught in British schools.

It was only during lockdown that our family attempted to get to grips with the chasm in our knowledge of Western Civilisation. My husband decided we should all read The Iliad and The Odyssey. He stalked off to the woods and listened to Ian McKellen’s epic retellings of Robert Fagel’s translations and told us later the best bits. I decided to read Pope’s version of The Iliad every night to the children, then four, 11 and 13. Alas the children were less enthusiastic. They dubbed it: The Williad by Homer Simpson and bellowed loud boos when I started reading. I’ve dug out the book this morning and the ribbon indicates we only made it to book two. Spin forward a few years, we listened to an extraordinary Ancient Greek reading by Emily Wilson of her brilliant translation of The Iliad and I decided to restart the nightly readings using her more dramatic reading style. Our thespian middle son put his head on the table and said: “Mum, please, please stop.”

In spite of reading history at Oxford, my knowledge of The Odyssey comes only from what my husband has raved about from his newly acquired knowledge and what I’ve picked up from Usborne Illustrated books I’ve read to the boys when little and Madeline Miller’s novels. Christopher Nolan’s film assumes knowledge that the majority of the population, even the majority of the so-called educated population, just don’t have. There was no storytelling element to the film, no gentle introduction for the morons in the audience like me. Instead, an erroneous assumption that we would understand that Odysseus’s fate was at the mercy of Gods, monsters and his own passions. I’m sure there will be many cinema goers baffled by the sporadic appearance of Zendaya in her Dune costume: an underwhelming goddess Athena. Likewise, Charlize Theron and Samantha Morton, though fine actresses, were not obvious sea nymphs and enchantresses, both dressed in beige rags. Of Poseidon and Zeus there was no appearance at all, and the Cyclops and the armour-clad giants, just silly.

So how then to interpret the film coming at it fresh without any foundational Ancient Greek knowledge? When Odysseus washes up on a raft on the shores of Ithaca, I suddenly realised this latest retelling is nothing more than the normal misery every man feels on returning from a day at work. Lots of fights with bosses and colleagues, distractions from pretty receptionists and after work drinks, a broken down train and a rail replacement bus service. The exhausted man tips up at home and finds his house full of unruly children and his wife flirting with the dads who have come to collect them. He then sits and stares at the fire and wonders if his slog was worth it.

Beyond this humdrum interpretation, I hope though that interest in this film will reawaken a broader interest in the classics and an absolute insistence that it is taught properly to children. I’ve found an old translation by T.E. Lawrence. On every page there is a gem. Here is where Odysseus dives into the underworld to find a better way home. He meets Achilles who hates being dead:

Do not make light of Death before me, O Shining Odysseus. Would that I were on Earth a menial, bound to some unsubstantial man who must pinch and scrape to keep alive! Life so were better than King of Kings among these dead men who have had their day and died.

Can we hope for a society where Lupita’s admission that she was entirely unaware of The Odyssey marks the beginning of the end of our current Dark Ages?

Joanna Gray is a writer and confidence coach.