The roots of today’s environmental catastrophe run deep into humanity’s past. Through this unprecedented reading of Homer’s Iliad, the award-winning classicist Edith Hall examines how this foundational text both documents the environmental practices of the ancient Greeks and betrays an awareness of the dangers posed by the destruction of the natural landscape. Underlying Homer’s account of brutal military operations, alliances, and cataclysmic struggle is a palpable understanding that the direction in which humanity was headed could create a world that was uninhabitable.

Hall provides unparalleled insight into the ancient origins of climate change and argues that the Iliad exposes the deepest contradictions behind the environmental problems we have created. Indeed, it is possible that some of the violence done to the environment throughout history has been authorized, if not exacerbated, by the celebration of the exploitation of nature in Homer’s poem. Drawing compelling analogies to contemporary poetry, literature, and film, Hall demonstrates that the Iliad, as a priceless document of the mindset of early humans, can help us understand the long history of ecological degradation and inspire activism to rescue our planet from disaster.

“Remarkable, brave and compassionate.”-Rowan Williams, New Statesman

In Sophocles’ tragedy Oedipus the Tyrant, a messenger arrives to report that Jocasta, queen of Thebes, has killed herself. To prepare listeners for this terrible news, he announces, “The tragedies that hurt the most are those that sufferers have chosen for themselves.” Edith Hall, whose own life and psyche have been shaped by such loss-her mother’s grandfather, mother, and first cousin all took their own lives-traces the philosophical arguments on suicide, from Plato and Aristotle to David Hume and Albert Camus.

In this deeply personal story, Hall explores the psychological damage that suicide inflicts across generations, relating it to the ancient Greek idea of a family curse. She draws parallels between characters from Greek tragedy and her own relatives, including her great-grandfather, whose life and death bore similar motivations to Sophocles’ Ajax: both men were overwhelmed by shame and humiliation.

Hall, haunted by her own periodic suicidal urges, shows how plays by Sophocles and other Greek dramatists helped her work through the loss of her grandmother and namesake Edith and understand her relationship with her own mother. The wisdom and solace found in the ancient tragedies, she argues, can help one choose survival over painful adversity and offer comfort to those who are tragically bereaved.