Book Review: The Song of Achilles
A bitterly beautiful love story that has made a permanent home in my heart.
A Note: If you planned to read The Song of Achilles and haven’t done so, there will be some spoilers ahead.
Author: Madeline Miller
Genre(s): Fiction, Fantasy, Greek, Greek Mythology, Romance, Tragedy, LGBTQ+
My Rating: ★★★★★
I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world. - Patroclus
Yet another story of deep friendship and unabashed romance that has broken my heart right open. The quote above has been laser-etched into my brain.
Madeline Miller absolutely did what needed to be done here. As someone who was a bit enthralled by Greek mythology as a child, it definitely warmed my heart and filled me with much excitement to get lost in a story like this. I had heard about it for a while and was able to finally get my hands on it via the library (shoutout to our local libraries and all they continue to provide for us, even in the face of atrocious cuts to funding). There are definitely plans to procure a copy of my own in the near future.
This story put my heart in a blender. Witnessing the flowering of their relationship was an absolute pleasure. Imagining them, young lovers, growing in devotion amongst such beautiful settings as the forests of Pelion and scenes of Scyros was almost too much for my heart to take. At times it felt as if I had been drawn into the pages to roam the palace halls and sit by the riversides with them. A character that took me a bit by surprise and who grew to be a favorite, even in the short time with him, was Chiron, the centaur who was in charge of teaching them for the roughly three years they spent on Pelion. He was such a firm yet gentle soul. Always cooking for them, looking after them. Keeping his distance as he treasured his alone time, but never being too far away. Taking the time to nurture qualities within them that even their own parents weren’t privy to. With him they could fully be themselves and grow into the young men who eventually made history with their strength, bravery, and ultimately love.
Yet another bitterly beautiful moment in time was near the end, after Patroclus had tragically been murdered by Hector ad Achilles was in deep mourning. Achilles had avenged Patroclus and so the father his victim Hector, King Priam, had gone to Achilles to beg for Hector’s body for burial. During this exchange he expressed condolences and in doing so referred to Patroclus as the friend of Achilles. To this Achilles quickly and sternly responded that Patroclus was no friend, but his philtatos, most beloved. Though both Achilles and Patroclus met sorrowful ends in the human world (horrendous an unnecessary deaths in my opinion) my heart was full knowing that, at the very end of the story, they were finally able to reconnect in the afterlife. In a surprising twist, after all other living beings had failed to give Patroclus a proper sendoff, Achilles’ mother, goddess Thetis, wrote Patroclus’ name on the tomb next to Achilles’ so that they could truly be together. In Greek mythology, the belief is that you need to be properly mourned and commemorated in order for your spirit to be free to go to the afterlife, otherwise you will be tethered to this earth in perpetuity. This is what happened to Patroclus. An entire tomb had been built to honor Achilles, his name etched in stone, but nothing for his beloved. Until Thetis, with a heart now thawed towards Patroclus, changed his fate by changing “ACHILLES” to “ACHILLES AND PATROCLUS” on their shared grave.
Achilles and Patroclus are now yet another paragon of sorts for me when it comes to love and romantic partnerships. The pair have been added to the likes of Nick and Charlie, Henry and Alex, and other pairings, queer or straight, whose names escape me at the moment. My heart is only open for a romantic love similar to that of these stories (tragedies, if any, aside) and will accept nothing less. I would rather remain single than to subject myself to a relationship that doesn’t have half the fire and devotion these do. While reading I was only brought to near tears as opposed to fully sobbing my eyes out as I had originally expected to. Still, this story will sit with me for long after this moment in time.
P.S.— Fuck Pyrrhus. Achilles’ son was horrid to the end. I blame Thetis for taking him from his parents and raising him to be so cold. To the point where even she found more comfort visiting Achilles’ tomb as opposed to her grandson’s after his deserved death (and yes, Pyrrhus died as a result of something utterly vile, stupid, and selfish). She wanted someone who saw himself as above everyone, who showed no mercy to mortals. Achilles, though immensely prideful at times, was too warm a soul for that, so she nurtured it in Pyrrhus. But at what cost? Pyre, meaning fire, is the root of his name, and he burned everything in his stead with little to no remorse. He took charge of laying his father to rest and refused to honor Achilles’ only wish of acknowledging Patroclus. No matter who spoke to him of his father’s unending love for his philtatos, Pyrrhus didn’t care. He denied and denied and denied. Claiming it to be a “stain” on his father’s reputation. Odysseus had to go to him and make their case known. Speaking of how he would wish to be buried and commemorated with his own wife had they met a fate similar to Achilles and Patroclus. He was the final person to try and appeal to Pyrrhus’ heart, but to no avail. That homophobic demon had no heart. He was utterly ruthless and selfish. Great for the fall of Troy and war in general it seemed, but not good for much else. He even threatened to assault, and then eventually murdered Briseis. She was the second person Patroclus loved dearly, as though she were his sister. Though painful, I’m glad she at least tried to avenge Patroclus before her end.