The Odyssey

Ambitieus. Dat is wat ik dacht bij het bericht dat regisseur Christopher Nolan de Odyssee wil gaan verfilmen. Het epos moet 17 juli 2026 in de bioscoop te zien zijn. Dat is over anderhalf jaar.

Homeros schreef dit boek rond 800 voor Christus. Odyssee behoort tot de wereldliteratuur. En dan ook van de buitencategorie. Het is zo'n boek waarvan je met recht kunt zeggen, dat het de tand des tijds heeft doorstaan.

Zo'n kwalificatie is niet elk boek gegeven.

Hoe breng je zo'n boek op het witte doek? Daar mag Nolan zich mee bezig houden. Hij liever dan ik. Maar ik ben dan ook geen filmregisseur. Gelukkig maar, dat is voor iedereen beter. Overigens, Nolan maakte ook al de film Interstellar, over de verschillende tijdsdimensies. Hij kan dus wel wat.

Tot zover de film. Het boek is interessanter. De Odyssee hoort ook bij Bob Dylan. De zanger noemt het boek als een van de drie titels die hem inspireren. Net als Moby Dick en All Quiet on the Western Front. In zijn Nobel Lecture zegt Dylan over de Odysee:

"The Odyssey is a great book whose themes have worked its way into the ballads of a lot of songwriters: “Homeward Bound, “Green, Green Grass of Home,” “Home on the Range,” and my songs as well.

The Odyssey is a strange, adventurous tale of a grown man trying to get home after fighting in a war. He’s on that long journey home, and it’s filled with traps and pitfalls. He’s cursed to wander. He’s always getting carried out to sea, always having close calls. Huge chunks of boulders rock his boat. He angers people he shouldn’t. There’s troublemakers in his crew. Treachery. His men are turned into pigs and then are turned back into younger, more handsome men. He’s always trying to rescue somebody. He’s a travelin’ man, but he’s making a lot of stops.

He’s stranded on a desert island. He finds deserted caves, and he hides in them. He meets giants that say, “I’ll eat you last.” And he escapes from giants. He’s trying to get back home, but he’s tossed and turned by the winds. Restless winds, chilly winds, unfriendly winds. He travels far, and then he gets blown back.

He’s always being warned of things to come. Touching things he’s told not to. There’s two roads to take, and they’re both bad. Both hazardous. On one you could drown and on the other you could starve. He goes into the narrow straits with foaming whirlpools that swallow him. Meets six-headed monsters with sharp fangs. Thunderbolts strike at him. Overhanging branches that he makes a leap to reach for to save himself from a raging river. Goddesses and gods protect him, but some others want to kill him. He changes identities. He’s exhausted. He falls asleep, and he’s woken up by the sound of laughter. He tells his story to strangers. He’s been gone twenty years. He was carried off somewhere and left there. Drugs have been dropped into his wine. It’s been a hard road to travel.

In a lot of ways, some of these same things have happened to you. You too have had drugs dropped into your wine. You too have shared a bed with the wrong woman. You too have been spellbound by magical voices, sweet voices with strange melodies. You too have come so far and have been so far blown back. And you’ve had close calls as well. You have angered people you should not have. And you too have rambled this country all around. And you’ve also felt that ill wind, the one that blows you no good. And that’s still not all of it.

When he gets back home, things aren’t any better. Scoundrels have moved in and are taking advantage of his wife’s hospitality. And there’s too many of ‘em. And though he’s greater than them all and the best at everything – best carpenter, best hunter, best expert on animals, best seaman – his courage won’t save him, but his trickery will.

All these stragglers will have to pay for desecrating his palace. He’ll disguise himself as a filthy beggar, and a lowly servant kicks him down the steps with arrogance and stupidity. The servant’s arrogance revolts him, but he controls his anger. He’s one against a hundred, but they’ll all fall, even the strongest. He was nobody. And when it’s all said and done, when he’s home at last, he sits with his wife, and he tells her the stories."

Daar doe ik het maar mee, tijdens deze grijze en sombere Kerstdagen.