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A review by millennial_dandy
The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller
3.0
'Song of Achilles' is one of those books that really is greater than the sum of its parts*
*caveats incoming
The theme that Madeline Miller uses the legendary figures of Achilles and Patroclus to explore is one that should be unsurprising to anyone with any political awareness from the past decade or so: masculinity. Specifically, Miller is interested in answering the question: what makes a man 'the best'?
In her book 'Our Vampires, Ourselves,' professor Nina Auerbach famously wrote: 'every age embraces the vampire it needs,' meaning that the lore of what a vampire is/can be, the powers they do and don't have, how they look, what they hunt, etc. 'personif[ies] the fears' of the socio-historical contexts in which the stories are written.
Similarly, the figure of Achilles and the story of the Trojan War have popped up countless times throughout the ages, and as scholar Caroline Alexander discusses in her book 'The War that Killed Achilles,' the socio-historical contexts in which those representations are written change the portrayals in the same way. She describes how in twelfth century renderings of Achilles, he is "depicted as in all ways inferior, even in martial prowess, to the noble Trojan hero Hektor." (xv) She discusses that in the 'Aeneid', he is "deemed a highly undesireable heroic model." (xvi) She goes on to explain that these portrayals, wildly deviating from what Homer presents in 'The Iliad,' are no coincidence, but a result of how those respective times and places viewed warriors; was Achilles's defiance of his commanding officer, Agammemnon, noble or a betrayal of the chain of command and even unpatriotic?
All of this to say that by the time 'The Song of Achilles' came along, its characters had already been molded and re-molded for centuries, all the way down to Miller's decision to write Achilles and Patroclus as lovers (often Plato's 'The Symposium' is credited as the first instance of this interpretation of their relationship).
Speaking in pure numbers, according to a New York Times article published in March of 2021, Tik Tok users under the hashtag #booktok have had a huge impact on book sales since its rise to popularity as a social media platform, and that books that aren't even new releases have been pushed up best-sellers lists as a result, including 'The Song of Achilles'. Though first published in 2012 to moderate success, by 2021, according to the same article, the book's hashtag had over 19 million views. And those views translated into sales: "According to NPD BookScan, which tracks print copies of books sold at most U.S. retailers, “The Song of Achilles” is selling about 10,000 copies a week, roughly nine times as much as when it won the prestigious Orange Prize. It is third on the New York Times best-seller list for paperback fiction."
On Goodreads, the novel has amassed over 510,000 ratings and 62,000 reviews, with an overall rating of 4.4/5 (meanwhile, 'The Iliad' has a rating of 3.8 after 380,000 ratings and 8,400 reviews)
What's up with that?
Why is a gay love story in which the titular character isn't even the protagonist, the version of the Iliad our age 'needs'?
In case you missed the #MeToo movement, this was a hashtag that American activist Tarana Burke is credited with having originated on Myspace back in 2006, though the movement largely captured the public's attention only in 2017 when actress Alyssa Milano used it as a hashtag in her viral tweet: "if you've been sexually harassed or assaulted write 'me too' as a reply to this tweet." This, coming at the same time that producer Harvey Weinstein was at the center of a slew of sexual assault allegations (later he would be convicted of 2 of 5 charges and sentenced to 23 years in prison. While serving that sentence, in June of 2021, he faced further sexual assault charges).
'What does the #MeToo movement have to do with Iliad fanfiction?', you might ask? Well, maybe nothing, but it is curious that a book positing that it is not Achilles who is the 'best of the Myrmidons' but his companion, Patroclus, should suddenly experience such skyrocketing popularity, especially with young women, nearly a decade after its publication and right at the time that MeToo has sparked such fierce disucssion of masculinity and specifically: men and their relation to power and to women.
In the Greek tradition, Miller's Achilles is a hero. He is worshipped and respected by everyone, he is physically beautiful and strong, and he's basically a nice guy all-around. Patroclus on the other hand begins his story as a disappointment to his father because he is physically small and unathletic, and he goes on to reject military training in favor of learning about medicine and healing. He is also a nice guy all-around.
He and Achilles fall in love, sail to Troy together, and, well, if you've read the Iliad, you know the rest of the story: Patroclus fights in Achilles's place when Achilles refuses to fight because he feels disrespected by his commanding officer. A few other things happen, leading to Achilles finally facing his destiny.
The plot points after arriving in Troy follow 'The Iliad' pretty well to the letter, and through some truly atrocious pacing, Miller seems to say: 'you know the rest.'
The details she does change are what caught my attention, most notably, how it was that Patroclus, who in her version is a lousy fighter, ends up taking Achilles's place in battle.
In both versions of the story, the catalyst is the seizure of Briseis--a girl presented to Achilles as a prize for his role in the initial raids of Trojan territory--by Agamemnon. In the Iliad, this enrages Achilles both as an insult to his honor, but also because he loves her. In 'Song of Achilles' her kidnapping is an insult to his honor only, and indeed, he seeks to use the incident as a chess piece that would allow him to kill Agamemnon legally, and doesn't care that Briseis would be collatoral damage. In 'Song of Achilles' Patroclus steps in to save her, and when he does, we get this scene:
The men may say that Achilles is 'the best of all the Greeks,' but our main (human) female character knows better.
By taking an incredibly famous war story about one of Greek mythology's most beloved heroes, the embodiment of traditionally celebrated masculinity, and giving the title of 'best of men' not to him, but to Patroclus, who in her version is his foil, Miller takes a strong stand on what 'strong' men should actually be: gentle, empathetic, kind, a healer, a protector.
And in the wake of MeToo, a lot of young women seem to agree with her.
Now, I began by saying that 'Song of Achilles' is greater than the sum of its parts, and I stand by that. There are two key elements that trouble me: one, from a technical standpoint, and the other from an idealogical one.
On a technical level, 'The Song of Achilles' has a few issues, the most glaring of which is pacing. Although by all accounts many if not most of the target audience of young women read this novel before reading 'The Iliad,' the pacing implies that readers should be familiar with the source material. For instance, Achilles's 'fight' with Hector in 'The Song of Achilles' lasts one line, and their entire confrontation, half a page. Granted, the focus of this novel is the relationship between Achilles and Patroclus with everything else as a backdrop, but even still, the contrast of the meandering pace of character-driven scenes with the blitzing speed of the plot-driven scenes not only gave me whiplash, I wonder if a person unfamiliar with the plot of 'The Iliad' would fully 'get' it.
When discussing 'The Song of Achilles' as a work of fanfiction, this is forgivable, given that, by definition, fanfiction is aimed at readers familiar with its source material. However, this wasn't marketed as 'fanfiction' but as "one of the best novelistic adaptations of Homer in recent memory" (according to the Wall Street Journal). If being judged as an adaptation, this pacing presents a problem, because 'adaptation' implies that the work should stand on its own. The solution, of course, would be to destigmatize the label of 'fanfiction' and allow it to be considered a legitimate genre, but that's an argument for another day.
The other, more serious, issue I had with 'The Song of Achilles' is the strong linkage to queerness of the character traits ascribed to Patroclus as well as the positioning of him and Achilles as protectors of the women Achilles wins as war trophies.
References to the rape of women captured in war abound in 'Song of Achilles.' This sexual violence is also linked by implication to traditional masculinity given that women throughout the story are given as prizes to the strongest men; the best warriors, but with no agency of their own. This is quite established by the time we're introduced to Briseis. Patroclus encourages Achilles to take her as his prize as a means of protecting her from being raped by Agamemnon. When she is first brought to their tent, she's terrified, convinced that she's going to be raped by one or both of them. To show her that she's in no danger, Patroclus does this:
This notion that the only way a woman can truly feel safe around a man is if he's gay is not only patently untrue, it undermines what I assume most women actually want: to feel safe around ALL men. But by implying that violence is an inherent trait in straight men, it shuts down the better argument: good men, no matter their sexual identity, are not violent.
Unfortuntely, there's also the cascade effect of falling into a tired stereotype: the linking of 'feminine' traits (gentleness, kindness, being a pacifist) to queer men. Again, not only is this patently untrue, it precludes any other type of man from having these traits without being assumed to be gay. And given the continued pervaisivness of homophobia within straight male discourse, this indeed has the unintended effect of discouraging straight men from being the very things Miller argues are what make one 'the best of men.'
And given that the core fanbase of the novel are (presumably) straight young women, this portrayal could potentially re-enforce their own socially conditioned feeling that 'the best ones are all gay' which is exactly the take that Briseis has in the novel:
By doing this, Miller is telling young female readers that they cannot have a partner like Patroclus. That they will either have to settle for less, or remain alone, as Briseis does in this novel. And this is the trap Miller laid for herself by trying to write a queer love story while also trying to reimagine ideal masculinity while also relating that reimagined masculinity to women.
Individually, she kind of achieves these things, but when combined, we get this message: the best of men should be gentle, and kind, and should be protectors not aggressors. But the only men who are like that are gay, and indeed, it is that queerness that produces these qualities, so if you're a woman, you should only surround yourself with gay men because they'll keep you safe, and if you're a straight woman, you're just plum out of luck when it comes to romantic partners unless you're willing to settle for being a straight man's possession, and if you're lucky he won't knock you around too much.
It's pretty yikesy, and considering just how popular this novel is, and how many young women bascially had a really great, healthy version of masculinity dangled in front of them in the form of Patroclus only to be told in the same breath they could never have him, it's also incredibly sad.
Representation of queer male relationships in fiction is super important, and representation of male characters who subvert traditional notions of masculinity is also super important, and they aren't even mutually exclusive, but 'The Song of Achilles' manages to twist those two things together in such a way as to render them, honestly, toxic. I predict that once the hype train reaches the end of the line, we'll look back on 'The Song of Achilles' increasingly unfavorably in heindsight. But that may just be my wishful thinking.
Luckily, the story of Achilles and the story of the Trojan war are unlikely to go anywhere, having lasted several thousand years so far, so maybe next time the version society embraces will reflect a more inclusive take on masculinity, because god only knows we need gentler, kinder heroes.
*caveats incoming
The theme that Madeline Miller uses the legendary figures of Achilles and Patroclus to explore is one that should be unsurprising to anyone with any political awareness from the past decade or so: masculinity. Specifically, Miller is interested in answering the question: what makes a man 'the best'?
In her book 'Our Vampires, Ourselves,' professor Nina Auerbach famously wrote: 'every age embraces the vampire it needs,' meaning that the lore of what a vampire is/can be, the powers they do and don't have, how they look, what they hunt, etc. 'personif[ies] the fears' of the socio-historical contexts in which the stories are written.
Similarly, the figure of Achilles and the story of the Trojan War have popped up countless times throughout the ages, and as scholar Caroline Alexander discusses in her book 'The War that Killed Achilles,' the socio-historical contexts in which those representations are written change the portrayals in the same way. She describes how in twelfth century renderings of Achilles, he is "depicted as in all ways inferior, even in martial prowess, to the noble Trojan hero Hektor." (xv) She discusses that in the 'Aeneid', he is "deemed a highly undesireable heroic model." (xvi) She goes on to explain that these portrayals, wildly deviating from what Homer presents in 'The Iliad,' are no coincidence, but a result of how those respective times and places viewed warriors; was Achilles's defiance of his commanding officer, Agammemnon, noble or a betrayal of the chain of command and even unpatriotic?
All of this to say that by the time 'The Song of Achilles' came along, its characters had already been molded and re-molded for centuries, all the way down to Miller's decision to write Achilles and Patroclus as lovers (often Plato's 'The Symposium' is credited as the first instance of this interpretation of their relationship).
Speaking in pure numbers, according to a New York Times article published in March of 2021, Tik Tok users under the hashtag #booktok have had a huge impact on book sales since its rise to popularity as a social media platform, and that books that aren't even new releases have been pushed up best-sellers lists as a result, including 'The Song of Achilles'. Though first published in 2012 to moderate success, by 2021, according to the same article, the book's hashtag had over 19 million views. And those views translated into sales: "According to NPD BookScan, which tracks print copies of books sold at most U.S. retailers, “The Song of Achilles” is selling about 10,000 copies a week, roughly nine times as much as when it won the prestigious Orange Prize. It is third on the New York Times best-seller list for paperback fiction."
On Goodreads, the novel has amassed over 510,000 ratings and 62,000 reviews, with an overall rating of 4.4/5 (meanwhile, 'The Iliad' has a rating of 3.8 after 380,000 ratings and 8,400 reviews)
What's up with that?
Why is a gay love story in which the titular character isn't even the protagonist, the version of the Iliad our age 'needs'?
In case you missed the #MeToo movement, this was a hashtag that American activist Tarana Burke is credited with having originated on Myspace back in 2006, though the movement largely captured the public's attention only in 2017 when actress Alyssa Milano used it as a hashtag in her viral tweet: "if you've been sexually harassed or assaulted write 'me too' as a reply to this tweet." This, coming at the same time that producer Harvey Weinstein was at the center of a slew of sexual assault allegations (later he would be convicted of 2 of 5 charges and sentenced to 23 years in prison. While serving that sentence, in June of 2021, he faced further sexual assault charges).
'What does the #MeToo movement have to do with Iliad fanfiction?', you might ask? Well, maybe nothing, but it is curious that a book positing that it is not Achilles who is the 'best of the Myrmidons' but his companion, Patroclus, should suddenly experience such skyrocketing popularity, especially with young women, nearly a decade after its publication and right at the time that MeToo has sparked such fierce disucssion of masculinity and specifically: men and their relation to power and to women.
In the Greek tradition, Miller's Achilles is a hero. He is worshipped and respected by everyone, he is physically beautiful and strong, and he's basically a nice guy all-around. Patroclus on the other hand begins his story as a disappointment to his father because he is physically small and unathletic, and he goes on to reject military training in favor of learning about medicine and healing. He is also a nice guy all-around.
He and Achilles fall in love, sail to Troy together, and, well, if you've read the Iliad, you know the rest of the story: Patroclus fights in Achilles's place when Achilles refuses to fight because he feels disrespected by his commanding officer. A few other things happen, leading to Achilles finally facing his destiny.
The plot points after arriving in Troy follow 'The Iliad' pretty well to the letter, and through some truly atrocious pacing, Miller seems to say: 'you know the rest.'
The details she does change are what caught my attention, most notably, how it was that Patroclus, who in her version is a lousy fighter, ends up taking Achilles's place in battle.
In both versions of the story, the catalyst is the seizure of Briseis--a girl presented to Achilles as a prize for his role in the initial raids of Trojan territory--by Agamemnon. In the Iliad, this enrages Achilles both as an insult to his honor, but also because he loves her. In 'Song of Achilles' her kidnapping is an insult to his honor only, and indeed, he seeks to use the incident as a chess piece that would allow him to kill Agamemnon legally, and doesn't care that Briseis would be collatoral damage. In 'Song of Achilles' Patroclus steps in to save her, and when he does, we get this scene:
[Briseis] cups my face in her hands. "Be careful tomorrow," she says. "Best of men. Best of the Myrmidons." She places her fingers to my lips, stopping my objection. "It is truth," she says. "Let it stand, for once." (314)
The men may say that Achilles is 'the best of all the Greeks,' but our main (human) female character knows better.
By taking an incredibly famous war story about one of Greek mythology's most beloved heroes, the embodiment of traditionally celebrated masculinity, and giving the title of 'best of men' not to him, but to Patroclus, who in her version is his foil, Miller takes a strong stand on what 'strong' men should actually be: gentle, empathetic, kind, a healer, a protector.
And in the wake of MeToo, a lot of young women seem to agree with her.
Now, I began by saying that 'Song of Achilles' is greater than the sum of its parts, and I stand by that. There are two key elements that trouble me: one, from a technical standpoint, and the other from an idealogical one.
On a technical level, 'The Song of Achilles' has a few issues, the most glaring of which is pacing. Although by all accounts many if not most of the target audience of young women read this novel before reading 'The Iliad,' the pacing implies that readers should be familiar with the source material. For instance, Achilles's 'fight' with Hector in 'The Song of Achilles' lasts one line, and their entire confrontation, half a page. Granted, the focus of this novel is the relationship between Achilles and Patroclus with everything else as a backdrop, but even still, the contrast of the meandering pace of character-driven scenes with the blitzing speed of the plot-driven scenes not only gave me whiplash, I wonder if a person unfamiliar with the plot of 'The Iliad' would fully 'get' it.
When discussing 'The Song of Achilles' as a work of fanfiction, this is forgivable, given that, by definition, fanfiction is aimed at readers familiar with its source material. However, this wasn't marketed as 'fanfiction' but as "one of the best novelistic adaptations of Homer in recent memory" (according to the Wall Street Journal). If being judged as an adaptation, this pacing presents a problem, because 'adaptation' implies that the work should stand on its own. The solution, of course, would be to destigmatize the label of 'fanfiction' and allow it to be considered a legitimate genre, but that's an argument for another day.
The other, more serious, issue I had with 'The Song of Achilles' is the strong linkage to queerness of the character traits ascribed to Patroclus as well as the positioning of him and Achilles as protectors of the women Achilles wins as war trophies.
References to the rape of women captured in war abound in 'Song of Achilles.' This sexual violence is also linked by implication to traditional masculinity given that women throughout the story are given as prizes to the strongest men; the best warriors, but with no agency of their own. This is quite established by the time we're introduced to Briseis. Patroclus encourages Achilles to take her as his prize as a means of protecting her from being raped by Agamemnon. When she is first brought to their tent, she's terrified, convinced that she's going to be raped by one or both of them. To show her that she's in no danger, Patroclus does this:
I stepped forward to put a hand on her arm, to reassure. She flinched as if expecting a blow. I saw the fear in her eyes, of rape and worse. I could not bear it. There was only one thing I could think of. I turned to Achilles and seized the front of his tunic. I kissed him. When I let go again, she was staring at us. Staring and staring. I gestured to her bonds and back to the knife. 'All right?" She hesitated a moment. Then slowly offered her hands. (228)
This notion that the only way a woman can truly feel safe around a man is if he's gay is not only patently untrue, it undermines what I assume most women actually want: to feel safe around ALL men. But by implying that violence is an inherent trait in straight men, it shuts down the better argument: good men, no matter their sexual identity, are not violent.
Unfortuntely, there's also the cascade effect of falling into a tired stereotype: the linking of 'feminine' traits (gentleness, kindness, being a pacifist) to queer men. Again, not only is this patently untrue, it precludes any other type of man from having these traits without being assumed to be gay. And given the continued pervaisivness of homophobia within straight male discourse, this indeed has the unintended effect of discouraging straight men from being the very things Miller argues are what make one 'the best of men.'
And given that the core fanbase of the novel are (presumably) straight young women, this portrayal could potentially re-enforce their own socially conditioned feeling that 'the best ones are all gay' which is exactly the take that Briseis has in the novel:
I know that you love [Achilles]," she said, hesitating a little before each word. "I know. But I thought that--some men have wives and lovers both." Her face looked very small, and so sad that I could not be silent.
"Briseis," I said. "If I ever wished to take a wife, it would be you."
"But you do not wish to take a wife."
"No," I said, as gently as I could.
She nodded, and her eyes dropped again. I could hear her slow breaths, the faint tremor in her chest. (p.267)
By doing this, Miller is telling young female readers that they cannot have a partner like Patroclus. That they will either have to settle for less, or remain alone, as Briseis does in this novel. And this is the trap Miller laid for herself by trying to write a queer love story while also trying to reimagine ideal masculinity while also relating that reimagined masculinity to women.
Individually, she kind of achieves these things, but when combined, we get this message: the best of men should be gentle, and kind, and should be protectors not aggressors. But the only men who are like that are gay, and indeed, it is that queerness that produces these qualities, so if you're a woman, you should only surround yourself with gay men because they'll keep you safe, and if you're a straight woman, you're just plum out of luck when it comes to romantic partners unless you're willing to settle for being a straight man's possession, and if you're lucky he won't knock you around too much.
It's pretty yikesy, and considering just how popular this novel is, and how many young women bascially had a really great, healthy version of masculinity dangled in front of them in the form of Patroclus only to be told in the same breath they could never have him, it's also incredibly sad.
Representation of queer male relationships in fiction is super important, and representation of male characters who subvert traditional notions of masculinity is also super important, and they aren't even mutually exclusive, but 'The Song of Achilles' manages to twist those two things together in such a way as to render them, honestly, toxic. I predict that once the hype train reaches the end of the line, we'll look back on 'The Song of Achilles' increasingly unfavorably in heindsight. But that may just be my wishful thinking.
Luckily, the story of Achilles and the story of the Trojan war are unlikely to go anywhere, having lasted several thousand years so far, so maybe next time the version society embraces will reflect a more inclusive take on masculinity, because god only knows we need gentler, kinder heroes.