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A review by chrissie_whitley
The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller
5.0
"How could any ordinary man take pride in his own skill when there was this in the world?"
What I found most interesting from the beginning of The Song of Achilles is that the narrator is not Achilles at all, but Patroclus, the exiled prince and companion of Achilles. What Miller has really done is woven a wonderfully beautiful love story into a reimagined perspective for a classical tale from multiple, well-known avenues: Ovid, Virgil, Sophocles, Apollodorus, Euripides, and Aeschylus. And layered behind that love story is the renowned Trojan war. The first half is devoted almost entirely to the two meeting as boys, growing up together, and falling in love — all while training Achilles to be the greatest of them all.
"Had she really thought I would not know him? 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."
Miller injects such tenderness in this first half — as these two young men find each other and dare to put themselves forward and risk their hearts. The awkwardness, timidity, courage, and anguish are all whirling together, wild and true. Patroclus is such a lost and aching soul, and his pain and fear are clear in every word and action Miller grants him. As the story develops, and the inevitable Trojan War draws nearer for our two lovers, the focus shifts, ever so slightly, to the more urgent, pressing matters — but Miller never leaves their lovers' tale for the heart of battle.
"He gloried in his own strength, like a racehorse too long penned, allowed at last to run. With a fevered impossible grace he fought off ten, fifteen, twenty-five men. This, at last, is what I can really do."
Instead, the war, even with battles represented and descriptions to properly relay the wonder that is Achilles in fighting form, Miller only allows the war to be the backdrop and never abandons the love story that launched her tale in the first place. And this is where the brilliance of Miller's decision to change the onus of the story — shifting it from the anticipated narrator of Achilles to the underserved and often overlooked Patroclus — makes so much sense. For who better to deliver the song of Achilles than his lover?
"I have heard that men who live by a waterfall cease to hear it—in such a way did I learn to live beside the rushing torrent of his doom."
Audiobook, as narrated by [a:Frazer Douglas|5804755|Frazer Douglas|https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/u_50x66-632230dc9882b4352d753eedf9396530.png]: Douglas's voice was absolute perfection for this story. Somehow able to deliver Patroclus so close to the reader/listener — warm and timeless, and still give us Achilles — young, sure, distant, and doomed, is a testament to his ability as a performer. His voice varied and affected accents when necessary, and the second tier highlight from his performance was his wonderful delivery of Odysseus — the wit layered into that man was subtle and superb.
What I found most interesting from the beginning of The Song of Achilles is that the narrator is not Achilles at all, but Patroclus, the exiled prince and companion of Achilles. What Miller has really done is woven a wonderfully beautiful love story into a reimagined perspective for a classical tale from multiple, well-known avenues: Ovid, Virgil, Sophocles, Apollodorus, Euripides, and Aeschylus. And layered behind that love story is the renowned Trojan war. The first half is devoted almost entirely to the two meeting as boys, growing up together, and falling in love — all while training Achilles to be the greatest of them all.
"Had she really thought I would not know him? 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."
Miller injects such tenderness in this first half — as these two young men find each other and dare to put themselves forward and risk their hearts. The awkwardness, timidity, courage, and anguish are all whirling together, wild and true. Patroclus is such a lost and aching soul, and his pain and fear are clear in every word and action Miller grants him. As the story develops, and the inevitable Trojan War draws nearer for our two lovers, the focus shifts, ever so slightly, to the more urgent, pressing matters — but Miller never leaves their lovers' tale for the heart of battle.
"He gloried in his own strength, like a racehorse too long penned, allowed at last to run. With a fevered impossible grace he fought off ten, fifteen, twenty-five men. This, at last, is what I can really do."
Instead, the war, even with battles represented and descriptions to properly relay the wonder that is Achilles in fighting form, Miller only allows the war to be the backdrop and never abandons the love story that launched her tale in the first place. And this is where the brilliance of Miller's decision to change the onus of the story — shifting it from the anticipated narrator of Achilles to the underserved and often overlooked Patroclus — makes so much sense. For who better to deliver the song of Achilles than his lover?
"I have heard that men who live by a waterfall cease to hear it—in such a way did I learn to live beside the rushing torrent of his doom."
Audiobook, as narrated by [a:Frazer Douglas|5804755|Frazer Douglas|https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/u_50x66-632230dc9882b4352d753eedf9396530.png]: Douglas's voice was absolute perfection for this story. Somehow able to deliver Patroclus so close to the reader/listener — warm and timeless, and still give us Achilles — young, sure, distant, and doomed, is a testament to his ability as a performer. His voice varied and affected accents when necessary, and the second tier highlight from his performance was his wonderful delivery of Odysseus — the wit layered into that man was subtle and superb.