What Homer’s The Odyssey Gets Right About Glory—And Where It Falls Short

Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey inspired me to re-read Homer’s original poem—partly out of curiosity and partly to see what made the cut and what didn’t. One of the scenes I keep thinking about never actually made it on screen at all, but I want to unpack it today. 

The scene I’m talking about is Odysseus’ visit to the land of the dead, and his conversations with the ghost of Achilles. It’s a small scene that takes place in Book 11. But this tiny scene, which could easily be overlooked, actually has a deeper meaning. It undoes the entire value system on which the rest of the Greek epic is built, and it’s worth some analysis. 

Odysseus Visits the Land of the Dead

When Odysseus reaches the underworld, Achilles has been dead for years. He was the greatest hero at Troy and his story is told in The Iliad. At the beginning of the epic poem, his goddess mother tells him that he had two possible fates. He could go home, live a long and quiet life, and be forgotten. Or he could fight at Troy, die a young hero, and be remembered forever. Neither of them seems like a great option, but these were Achilies’ only options. In classic Greek hero fashion, he chose to stay and fight at Troy. That choice is the entire backbone of The Iliad. 

When Odysseus sees Achilles’ shade, he tries to comfort him by telling him that he died the mightiest hero at Troy. Odysseus assumes Achilles’ honor follows him to Hades. But this isn’t the case. Achilles tells Odysseus that he would rather be a landless, penniless hired hand working for the poorest farmer alive than be king over all the dead. 

Dying a hero’s death ultimately means nothing at all. This is the man who chose fame over a long life. But, from the grave, he’s telling Odysseus that he chose wrongly. All of the glory and fame he was promised didn’t follow him to Hades. 

What Homer Meant with this Scene

This moment is so striking to me because Homer spends The Iliad building on this idea of “kleos” or “glory” as a thing that’s worth dying for. Kleos is the only real answer for humans to have mortality. Then, in The Odyssey, Homer has Achilles, the poem’s most decorated hero, admits the fame wasn’t worth it. Achilles’ sorrow over his choice is the proof against the entire Greek heroic code.

As I read this scene, I wondered why Homer would write this. It feels contradictory to this entire world that he’s built, where heroes are willing to die for fame, glory, and honor. The Greek understanding of the underworld was pretty bleak. Hades is always depicted as shadowy, dark, and joyless. If that’s what Homer believed awaited all of us after death, then fame would naturally mean nothing. In both of his poems, Homer seems to communicate that his own culture’s best answer to death—to be remembered by fame and glory—isn’t the actual answer. 

What the Bible Says 

As Christians, this should be familiar to us. It’s basically the entire argument of Ecclesiastes. Traditionally, Solomon is believed to be the author, but the author is never directly identified in the text. But let’s go down the route that maybe Solomon (or someone like Solomon) was the author. Solomon was the richest and wisest king on earth. He had everything he could ever ask for. Yet, he describes his life’s work as “hevel,” which means “vapor,” “breath,” or “smoke.” It’s short, meaningless, and insignificant. 

All the things in life, like accomplishments, talents, and success, are something you can’t hold onto no matter how hard you try. It will dissipate. Death erases the distinction between a wise man and the fool, the remembered and the forgotten. 

Jesus also makes a similar case when he asks: "What does it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his own soul?” (Matthew 16:26). That’s exactly what Achilles revelation is in The Odyssey. 

What The Odyssey Gets Wrong

While this is a surprising comparison between a Greek epic and our Christian worldview, the outcomes are very different. 

Achilles said he would have chosen a longer, insignificant, and poor life over a short and famous life. His own solution to his misery in the underworld is to avoid it as long as possible by living a longer life. In Ecclesiastes, it doesn’t matter how long you live. Our lives are but a vapor. The answer is not to trade fame for longevity. 

Paul tells the Corinthians, “Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain” (1 Corinthians 15:58). 

As Christians, we’re living for God’s glory, not our own. And when we choose to live our lives for God, we fulfill our purpose. We’re not seeking earthly gain or human glory. We’re seeking to honor and glorify the one who created us, who loves us, and who wants what’s best for us. We may eventually be forgotten here on this earth, but that shouldn’t matter to us. Because God sees us, and he will never forget about us. 

Achilles was right. You can’t take worldly fame and glory into the next life. But his solution is flawed. 

What’s fascinating is that Homer, a poet writing centuries before Christ, could clearly admit his own hero’s proudest choice was in vain. Homer was able to diagnose the problem. He just missed the mark on the source of our hope. Kali Gibson is the editor-in-chief for So We Speak and a copywriter for the Youversion Bible App.