The Lusiads by Luis Vas de Camoes

The mid-16th century must have been an exciting time in Europe. Explorers were returning from exploring the globe, bringing back news of adventure, new lands, and vast opportunities for riches. Not all of that news turned out to be true, strictly speaking, but it must have exciting nevertheless, especially when Vasco da Gama's ships returned from the first sea voyage to India, which began in 1497.

In the early part of that period, Portugal in particular took the lead in the exploration. Time went on, though, and other nations like Spain and England caught up. The great Portuguese poet Luis Vas de Camoes responded to his nation's loss of its primacy with the 1572 epic poem "The Lusiads", both a celebration of Portugal's past and an encouragement to his countrymen to return to their onetime glory.

The title refers to the character of Lusus, a son or companion of the Roman god Bacchus and supposedly the ancestor of the Portuguese. This might be considered a one-off reference except that the poem itself tells us that the Roman gods on Olympus watch da Gama's voyage with great interest and eventually reward the whole crew upon the voyage's successful completion. Considering that part of the voyage's purpose, in addition to promoting Portuguese imperial and business interests, is the spread of Christianity especially among the heathen Muslims, the involvement of the Roman gods is a little confusing, but this is after all an epic poem, not a literal history. All bets are off.

The ships depart from Lisbon amidst tremendous celebration at the docks, and sail down the coast of Africa to Cape Horn. They encounter various locals, some friendly and some not, and increasingly nasty weather. The poet doesn't spend much time at this detail, though, being as you might expect more interested in developments once the fleet gets around the base of the continent and proceeds northward past lands that no European has seen before. They find guides to help them on the way, many of whom, though in Muslim lands, are either Christian or so amenable to the Christian message that they convert in what seems to be a very few minutes. Why? Well, this being a Christian work, it presents Christianity as so obviously true even primitive heathens like these recognize its truth on the spot. Let's not get into the assumption that these natives are a bunch of primitive heathens – don't forget that in this poem, the ancient Romans have sent these people to convert everyone they see to Christianity. Like I said, all bets are off.

Although this is widely considered a major work of literature, and one of the works that made Camoes the leading poet of Portugal to this day, I suspect that if it appeared now, it wouldn't attract such a superb reputation. Today's literature adheres to a number of rules that "The Lusiads" does not observe, most obviously in that it lacks a single protagonist. It's the crew in the aggregate that is the story's focus. Even da Gama, the captain and most apparent leader of this bunch, doesn't seem to attract any more or less focus than anyone else. He gives the orders, all right, but it's his crew that takes much of the action. Today's reader, accustomed to stories about one person and his or her sidekicks, might be excused for having difficulty paying attention as first one character and then another coming to the forefront.

And then there's the last section of the poem, in which the fleet departs from India and receives its reward for its persistence and resourcefulness in the form of a period of weeks on an island featuring water, food, and female companionship provided by those aforementioned Roman gods. Leaving aside the remarkable fact of a Christian force lounging around with a bunch of nymphs, presumably being fed grapes and other pleasures, I for one find it a bit surprising that Camoes concluded his effort to encourage his countrymen in their former military and imperial glory by showing his heroes giving up all such ambitions. Granted, they eventually leave the island and go home to their wives, but it takes them a mighty long time to get themselves going.

Oh well. As always, it's impossible to judge the literature of previous ages by modern standards. If one can ignore such considerations, "The Lusiads" is a good read, with a lot of beautiful description and language. The encouragement of imperial ambition doesn't (or shouldn't) speak to us today, but the rest can. As with other centuries-old literature, this work has lasted 400-odd years for a reason.

Benshlomo says, Read for what you can get out a piece, not for what the author thought you should get.