I have reached the end of Book 24 of The Iliad, and I leave Troy not so much conquered as exhausted. Both Trojans and Greeks stand on the far edge of grief, stunned by what this long war has cost them. The walls of the city still rise, the people still breathe, but they move under a heavy weight of funerals, broken families, and battles that blur together. Hector is gone. Achilles is changed. Neither side can claim a clean victory—only a brief pause in the suffering. It feels less like triumph and more like two weary peoples facing the same hard truth: even the greatest heroes cannot escape loss, and every glory on the battlefield is paid for at home.
What struck me most along this journey was how the story keeps circling back to family, grief, and aging. Homer looked beyond his own time and invites readers to recognize that we share a deeply common story. When we lift our eyes—and our hearts—above our own desires and wishes, we understand we all have far more in common beneath our differences.
The heroes are brave and badly flawed at the same time. That is less a warning to us as leaders than as individuals. We must look inward for our guidance, recognizing that human leaders and heroes are… well, they’re human.
Homer presents a polytheistic worldview where the gods are dramatic, yet human choices still matter. There is a lesson here for those of us with a monotheistic worldview as well. Our choices—reflected in our behavior, speech, and inner thought—not only matter but require us to be accountable.
I want to encourage anyone even slightly interested in this work to pick up the book, open to Book 1, and allow yourself to be a beginner, as I did. For younger readers, I invite you to ask: Have you ever wondered where our ideas of heroism and honor come from? This is one of the wells. For us older readers, I ask: If you’re asking what still matters after victory and loss, The Iliad has been asking with you for 2,700 years. So, start. Let yourself be a beginner.
Next post, I will share the strategy and resources I used along my now-completed journey through The Iliad. And now… on to The Odyssey.