The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

Source of book: Borrowed from the library.

This was this month’s selection for our “Literary Lush” book club. One of the things I enjoy about this club is that I end up reading interesting books that I never would have discovered on my own.

Earlier in the year, the club read Miller’s second novel, Circe, and apparently everyone loved it. I was camping, and was unable to participate - I hope to catch up on that one later. 

I read The Iliad in my teens - we had to read the chapter on the death of Hector for school (along with, inexplicably, the departure of Telemachus for The Odyssey - easily the most boring section if read out of context - I think because it was a Fundie video course, the thought of sexual escapades was a bridge too far.) I decided to read both of Homer’s epics at that time. I have re-read The Odyssey several times since then. I haven’t returned to The Iliad, in part because there were whole chapters of battle scenes that I found tedious. The central story, though, is quite fascinating, and worthy of a new look.

Madeline Miller studied the classics (in the Greek and Roman sense) and went on to teach Greek and Latin to high school students. During that time, she started working on what became her first book. She credits Plato for the ideas in The Song of Achilles, which is a retelling of the myth of Achilles from the point of view of his friend (and lover) Patroclus.

I’ll give a bit of a spoiler here, assuming that is possible given that these myths are 2500 years old.

Achilles was a famous warrior, born to a human father and a minor goddess. She made him nearly (but not completely) invincible. When he came of age, the Trojan War erupted. Helen, the ultimate MacGuffin, has been kidnapped by (or ran off with) pretty-boy Paris, prince of Troy. Her husband, Menelaus, is determined to get her back. His brother, Agamemnon, smells an opportunity to get rich off the spoils. Because of an oath to defend Helen’s honor, all the kings of the Greeks sail to Troy to fight. Achilles comes of his own free will, seeking glory. He has been offered the choice of long life and obscurity or short life and glory. My choice would have been different, which is why I will never be the subject of an epic poem. After 10 years of mostly fruitless fighting, the war still hasn’t ended, and tempers are short. As The Iliad opens, Achilles has quarreled with Agamemnon. Both are proud. Achilles wants to be his own boss, and Agamemnon disagrees. When Agamemnon makes a bullheaded mistake which offends the gods and brings a plague on the Greeks, Achilles points it out and gets the wrath of Agamemnon, who seeks to take a woman won as a war prize from Achilles. As a result, Achilles refuses to fight for the Greeks and sits in his tent as the Trojans wreak havoc on the Greek ships. Seeking to save the Greeks, Patroclus puts on Achilles’ armor and fights, killing more than his skill level would indicate, before he is killed by Hector. Achilles is furious, and pursues and kills Hector. This is where The Iliad ends, but other legends carry forward the story. Because of a prophecy (and Apollo), Achilles loses his invulnerability after killing Hector, and he is killed by an arrow shot by Paris. With the playing field again even, a stratagem is needed. Odysseus invents the Trojan Horse, and the rest is history...I mean mythology.

Miller chooses to focus on a more human aspect of the story, and chooses the point of view of Patroclus. When I first read The Iliad, I could tell that Patroclus was more than a mere friend of Achilles - but it wasn’t spelled out. Later writers - Plato included - stated the obvious, that they were lovers. Miller starts the story early in Patroclus’ life, when he is a young boy and accidentally kills another boy who was bullying him. As a result, he is exiled and sent to live with Achilles’ parents. This much is part of the myth. Miller does take one liberty in making Achilles and Patroclus the same age, where the original myth put Patroclus as the older.

The Song of Achilles spends most of the first half telling of the boyhood, adolescence, and growing closeness of the two. After that, fate and circumstances intervene, and the rest tells of the events in Homer’s epic and its aftermath.

Knowing Patroclus’ fate, I was curious to see how that was handled. Did the book just end with his death? (That would have been annoying and missed the key events of the original story.) Would someone else tell the rest? Who?

Miller decided to have Patroclus continue to tell the story after death - he is a disembodied spirit seeking rest, who longs to be reunited with his lover. The book thus ends when he is able to, after Achilles mother intervenes.

Having not read Circe, I don’t have anything to compare this book to. I did find it enjoyable. Miller knows her myths, and does a good job of giving them a modern spin. By modern, I mean that the story is told with modern sensibilities. For example, rather than focus on all the famous ancestors of potential listeners that Achilles killed or fought alongside, Miller focuses on a personal relationship. Rather than telling of the gods and the fates and destiny as the main drivers of history, she looks at the human interactions and psychology. Homer assumed that everyone would understand why Achilles would get pissed. Miller delves into his more personal motivations. Homer took for granted that women were chattel to be won like war trophies. Miller, through Patroclus, questions that assumption and humanizes the women. The myths seem all too okay with human sacrifice, while Miller exposes the horror. And notes that women seemed to be the usual sacrifices, not men. And, perhaps most strikingly, Miller views the Achilles Patroclus relationship through the modern lens of sexual orientation even while accurately portraying the social aspects of same sex relationships in the ancient world. Thus, the relationship is a love match as we would understand it in the 21st Century, not a form of hierarchical male bonding. I don’t think Miller is unfaithful to the original myths, but the lens is different. An ancient Greek reading her book would not understand her point at all.

Since Patroclus is a barely-more-than-minor character in The Iliad, he is an ideal character to choose to reimagine. There is less baggage, so to speak. He is also ideal in that he was, by the terms of the myth itself, an outsider to masculine martial culture. He is exiled and disowned, a lousy fighter, drawn to healing rather than killing, and the opposite to Achilles. This is one reason they work as a couple. They are complementary.

I also thought that Miller did a nice job of drawing out the sexual politics of wealth, aristocracy, and sexism in the ancient world. All too often, the past is glorified and sugar coated. Miller points out the blindingly obvious: in that world, slaves were sexual chattel. And that goes for males and females. A wealthy heir would typically marry early - but have had lots of experience raping the slaves first. And it wouldn’t have been understood as rape - women in general didn’t have the right of sexual self-determination. This is one reason why I shudder whenever partriarchal sorts wax nostalgic at the old days, and try to return us there. And, of course, blame “Feminism™” for our modern problems. I guess if women would just know their place… (And don’t get me started on all the nastiness of the Abortion Wars - and the growing war on birth control and female autonomy in general. I grew up in that nasty subculture and don’t want it to win this fight.)

The character of Odysseus was rather interesting in this book. He comes across as somewhere between a prick and a snake. Which is probably somewhat accurate. Although I guess he kind of had to be to survive as a small fish among the Greek kings. I am curious to see how he is portrayed in Circe. One line near the end is pretty funny. Achilles’ son Neoptolemus, aka Pyrrhus has joined the battle - and he seems to have all of Achilles’ weaknesses with none of the charm. He, like his grandmother, hates Patroclus and doesn’t want Patroclus to be buried with Achilles and share his fame. Odysseus tries to persuade him otherwise, but he refuses to listen, being devoid of both sense and empathy. Odysseus’ response is intriguing.

“But fame is a strange thing. Some men gain glory after they die, while others fade. What is admired in one generation is abhorred in another.” He spreads his broad hands.” We cannot say who will survive the holocaust of memory. Who knows?” He smiles. “Perhaps one day even I will be famous. Perhaps more famous than you.”

You think?

But it is the first part of that which is most thought provoking. Tastes change. And our understanding of ethical behavior evolves and grows. And thus it was that the wily Odysseus is better remembered than the brutal and entitled Pyrrhus, who is mainly remembered in legend for stealing Orestes’ wife Hermione and getting whacked for his trouble. And allegedly being the ancestor of Alexander the Great, so there is that.

I think there is a bit of a lesson in this. It is bad enough to be a person of one’s time, and subject to the weaknesses of that era. But far worse is to be worse than one’s time. That sort of thing rarely ages well. I wish that a lot of the older right wing sorts in my life understood that. History will not be kind.

All good stories are worth reexamination, in my opinion. The power of myths isn’t that they are unchanging in meaning, but that they speak to us in our own times and our own frameworks. The point of reading The Iliad isn’t to resurrect martial honor culture, or make women back into chattel, of course. It is to reimagine and reinvigorate the timeless truths of human nature and experience. We can recognize ourselves in Achilles, in Patroclus, in Briseis, in Andromache. We can wrestle anew with the great questions of meaning and truth and justice and honor. I felt that Miller did a good job of remixing the myths and seeing the ancient from a new viewpoint.

The writing is mostly good - I am told that Miller finds her voice better in Circe - I guess practice helps. But The Song of Achilles is a worthy effort, and I found myself enjoying reading it.