Ido Hevroni on Teaching Homer in Wartime

This week, as students in North America are returning to campus and settling into the rhythms of the fall semester, some of them are going to open their copies of Homer's epic poems of the Trojan War, the Iliad and Odyssey. They will read of the Trojan commander Hector's poignant farewell to his wife Andromache, of the Greek warrior Achilles' terrible rage, of Odysseus' long journey home, and of his wife in Ithaca, Penelope, who has endured his absence for some twenty years. For many students, these will be powerful stories—windows into an ancient world of honor and virtue and hubris—but for all that, distant stories. When read from the air-conditioned dorm room or plush campus library, the dust and blood and bronze of the Trojan War are abstract. But what happens when these same texts are read by young men and women who do know the weight of putting on armor, who have themselves kissed loved ones goodbye before departing for battle? Who must walk away from their own infant children in order to defend the country? What happens when the students who stand before Homer's text are not just dispassionately analyzing the soul of the warrior but are warriors themselves? Mosaic's editor Jonathan Silver speaks in this episode with Ido Hevroni, a professor of literature at Shalem College in Jerusalem. For over a decade, Hevroni has guided Shalem students through Homer's epics, watching them grapple with these eternal questions of personal pride and public duty, private love and public defense, glory and sacrifice. But now, after October 7, his students find themselves in active combat, and he finds that it is Homer who is helping to explain their own experience back to themselves. And it is their experience in the tanks and tunnels of Gaza that is teaching them to read Homer with new eyes. Hevroni recently wrote about teaching the Odyssey in the pages of Mosaic, and that essay was published in honor of Ido's own teacher, Amy Apfel Kass, z"l, whose yortsayt on the fifth of Elul falls on the day that this conversation was originally broadcast. This discussion, too, is dedicated to her memory.