Alexander writes in verse, though her lines don't follow a strict metrical pattern. They run long, often past the right margin, and her diction stays formal without reaching for archaism. Rouse writes in plain prose, and his register drops noticeably lower. At Book 5, Alexander gives "this madman, created for evil, double-faced," while Rouse gives "that graven image of wickedness, Mr. Facing-all-ways." The Rouse phrase is almost comic, conversational in a way that feels deliberate. At Book 1, Alexander opens "Wrath, sing, goddess," preserving the Greek word order that foregrounds rage. Rouse opens "An angry man, there is my story," which is chattier, more like someone sitting down to tell you something. The rhythm of each reflects the form: Alexander's lines have a measured, forward movement; Rouse's prose moves in short punchy bursts. Alexander's translation was published with a scholarly apparatus and shows close attention to the Greek word order and epithets. She keeps "gleaming-eyed Athena" and "silver-footed Thetis." Rouse removes most epithets and simplifies. At Book 9, Alexander writes "my glory will be undying," holding the Greek word "undying" as a distinct term. Rouse writes "my fame shall never die," which is clear but loses the compression of the original. Rouse gains readability and pace. Alexander keeps more of the formal texture of the original, including its repetitions and its ritual phrasing. At Book 21, both translations handle Achilles' cold speech to Lycaon with force, but Rouse's "Come, my friend, die too; why do you cry like that?" lands as blunt dialogue, where Alexander's "Come friend, you die too" is more austere.
Wrath—sing, goddess, of the ruinous wrath of Peleus' son Achilles,
that inflicted woes without number upon the Achaeans,
hurled forth to Hades many strong souls of warriors
and rendered their bodies prey for the dogs,
for all birds, and the will of Zeus was accomplished;
sing from when they two first stood in conflict—
Atreus' son, lord of men, and godlike Achilles.
An angry man—There is my story: The bitter rancour of Achillês, prince of the house of Peleus, which brought a thousand troubles upon the Achaian host. Many a strong soul it sent down to Hadês, and left the heroes themselves a prey to dogs and carrion birds, while the will of God moved on to fulfilment.
It began first of all with a quarrel between my lord King Agamemnon of Atreus' line and the Prince Achillês.