‘The Song of Achilles’ by Madeline Miller is the current source of my crippled emotional status

‘Captivating’ does not even begin to cover it. The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller, edition by Ecco.

Hello there. So, uh. I’m fine. I’ve read this through and listened to it, and I’m wonderful. Yeah. Perfectly okay with what I’ve binged. So, anyway, I finally read what is almost certainly my favourite book of the year – it is undoubtedly in my top five all-time favourite novels. If you haven’t read The Song of Achilles, I’m about to list below exactly why you should. I am currently calm enough to do so, I think, though I’ve just finished listening to the audiobook – my second reading of the novel.

We’ll see how that fares me, the story, its devastating tones painting over my eyes so fresh in my brain again. But first…

What I’m reading: A Deal with the Elf King (Elise Kova)

What I’m watching: Virgin River (Netflix) / The Mandalorian (Disney+)

What I’m playing: Resident Evil VII: Biohazard (PlayStation 4)

Before we go any further, I will mention here that this is actually my second attempt at writing this review. I got about 300 pages into my first run before my emotions decided, “You know what? We’re going to have another breakdown. Like, your one-thousandth mental breakdown.” To which I replied, “Do I at least get a prize for reaching one-thousand?’

More tears. I got more tears. Yay?

I’ll start with the plot. The Song of Achilles is something of an Iliad retelling, based entirely on the romantic relationship between Achilles and Patroclus (the latter being our humble narrator). I will emphasise as blatantly here, this is not a story of “F is for friends who do stuff together”. This book is a love story. A story about two boys growing up, ultimately thrown into a war because of Achilles’ gift as the best warrior the Greeks have, and because Patroclus is not in any lifetime staying behind. The plot? The war? Godly drama and blood-curdling sons? Looking at you, Pyrrhus. It’s all a backdrop. It’s part of the reason why, for the first odd thirty pages, I struggled to dive into this book. I read, incrementally, until the point Patroclus accidentally kills a boy, is exiled, and is placed under the guardianship of Peleus – where he meets Achilles.

Here is where the story begins. Here is where I became The Song of Achilles trash.

They don’t fall in love straight away. That would be weird, seeing as they’re ten when they meet. Yet they do become the dearest of friends, companions they can turn to at all moments. They grow up side by side, Patroclus often marvelling at everything Achilles without yet realising that, from day one, Achilles would rage for days on end and kill everyone in all the world.

  *coughs*

*cries*

­I’m fine. It’s fine.

The Song of Achilles is perhaps one of the single-most masterfully crafted slow-burn relationships I’ve ever read. The two grow up together from childhood, ultimately letting themselves fall entirely in love in a quiet, private moment hidden away on a mountain as aspiring young men.

They grow up. As friends, and then lovers. As individual people. They don’t always agree. They have quarrels. They have flaws. For example, Patroclus never realises he’s perfect in every conceivable way. Achilles, meanwhile, while such a beautiful character, suffers from a severe case of demi-godly pride. He does, however, stand as Captain of the ‘Patroclus is Perfect in Every Conceivable Way’ club, so he’s got that going for him.

So, I have taken a small break. I will now continue.

I’m not going to spoil how this book ends on the off-chance that you don’t know. If you don’t, read up NOTHING about the pair and go pluck yourself a copy of this book. Read it from end to end. You’ll be accompanied by a genuinely warm and kind and soft protagonist, a graceful and melodic, poetic writing style, and some quotes you’ll hold onto for a long time thereafter. Some such quotes include:

“Name one hero who was happy.”
I considered. Heracles went mad and killed his family; Theseus lost his bride and father; Jason’s children and new wife were murdered by his old; Bellerophon killed the Chimera but was crippled by the fall from Pegasus’ back.
“You can’t.” He was sitting up now, leaning forward.
“I can’t.”
“I know. They never let you be famous AND happy.” He lifted an eyebrow. “I’ll tell you a secret."
“Tell me.” I loved it when he was like this.
“I'm going to be the first." He took my palm and held it to his. "Swear it."
"Why me?"
"Because you're the reason. Swear it."
"I swear it," I said, lost in the high colour of his cheeks, the flame in his eyes.
"I swear it," he echoed.
We sat like that a moment, hands touching. He grinned.
"I feel like I could eat the world raw.”

“I could recognise 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.”

“We were like gods at the dawning of the world, & our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other.”

“I am made of memories.”

Second small break. I had two final quotes, but they were so at odds with all of these other quotes that I couldn’t place them there. Still,

“There are no bargains between lion and men. I will kill you and eat you raw.”

“What has Hector ever done to me?”

I mean. Come on, Madeline Miller. Holy shit, mate.

(I will add here, I now have that last quote as a sticker on the inside of my laptop. Basically, I bought a sticker that would deal my 9001 emotional damage any time I looked at it, and my brain decided, “Hey, hey, put it on the inside of your laptop so it’s the first thing you see when you open it.” To which I answered, “Brilliant!”)

Third break. I think only three so far is pretty good, actually. That’s some resolve right there.

Carrying on. Flawless, smooth writing style. Soft gays. Fast pacing. Friends-to-lovers. An emotionally crippled mental state. It’s everything you could possibly want in a book. I have every faith in the world that I will have read this a further five times, give or take before the year is out.

Find a copy. Keep a box of tissues nearby. December is here, so I imagine some snacks will be lying around. I recommend procuring your favourites so you have them with you when the book’s end rolls about. Have a computer or phone ready to go hunt down Patrochilles memes on Tumblr and Pinterest thereafter.

And I thought Circe (you can read my review of that masterclass here) was excellent.

I will conclude my review by saying this: Madeline Miller has only published two novels. One of them was Circe, the other The Song of Achilles. Like… I did not need this as an author. Nor did I need the one-thousand mental breakdowns that followed the final lines of this book (which, in many respects, contained the moment which ruined me most of all).

Was unlocking all of these emotions a good idea? Probably not. Anyway, 10/5, best book. See you next week, lovely people.

—Charis.