About a year and a half ago, I listened to an audio book translation of the Iliad. I like listening to audio books in my car as I drive around during the day; I can control the content of what I hear, and can avoid listening to the news. It had been a long time since I had had any extended exposure to the poem, and was wondering if it might mean more to me than it did many years ago. The full appreciation of works of literature, we all know, is often time-specific. At one point in a man’s life, a book may seem like a tiresome bore; then, with a refreshing interval of years, the same work can hit you like a bolt of lightning, activating previously dormant or attenuated perceptions.