James
McCaughey delivers Iliad stories in real time. His frame is an ancient
fortnight festival, sign itself of peace, where on successive days he recounts
the war poem. We hear it too. Come from a Manus Island protest, I hear the
privations of siege, fears felt, extremes met. Then Homer’s repetition of a ‘perfect
day’, the excuse relatives are told who have lost their young. My great-uncle,
remembered this November, was killed one hundred years ago for the gods of king
and country. In spite of the waste, honour will be upheld and his presence in
that Western wilderness haloed.
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