I’m going to compare Ellsworth to Woody Allen–“I gotta tell ya,” she says, and in the same breath quotes Robert Fitzgerald’s translation of the Iliad, something about war’s butchery–but I think she goes Allen one better, because while Allen is also not just burlesquing Tolstoy, but imagining love and imagining death, Ellsworth is filling up a silence, as well. If you remember Agamemnon and his recalcitrant Achilles, what do you know of how his wife Clytemnestra spent her days at home, those nine long years stretching into ten? Continue reading Phone Homer is the Modern Woman’s Iliad You’ve Been Waiting For