Why the Classics Have Never Felt More Relevant!
If Helen of Troy’s beauty famously launched a thousand ships, Madeline Miller’s 2011 novel, The Song of Achilles, joined the launch of a thousand retellings of classical history and myth. And while that number may be a slight exaggeration, its enormous impact should not be underestimated.
In the past decade, writers such as Kamila Shamsie, Pat Barker and Colm Tóibín have turned to classic retellings; Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson series has inspired a new generation of young readers; and there is even a Radio 4 podcast, hosted by Natalie Haynes, dedicated to reinterpreting Greek myth. It’s no wonder, then, that The Song of Achilles, which won the Women’s Prize for Fiction in 2012, has been one of Folio’s most requested titles.
‘Retellings have of course been going on for much, much longer than just in this generation,’ says Emily Wilson, acclaimed translator of The Iliad and The Odyssey. ‘But after The Song of Achilles, there was a whole new wave that shifted the original stories in ways that had a lot to do with the book’s success. There’s so much variety in all of them, but where Madeline Miller was distinctive was in centring a romance – the book is narrated by Achilles’ beloved, Patroclus – and presenting us with a canonical queer love story.’ Miller, says Wilson, has ‘talked about how we don’t have iconic superheroes who are jocks, who are also gay. The homophobia that’s present in mainstream American culture was really usefully challenged by the success of The Song of Achilles.’
And now comes a glorious new Folio edition – the first to be fully illustrated, with the help of Miller’s extensive knowledge, and with a new foreword by Emily Wilson herself. ‘I hesitated when the request from Folio came in,’ Wilson recalls. ‘My Iliad had just come out and I thought, “I’m kind of busy right now. Do I actually have time to do this?” And then I thought, “Yes, for this I can make time”. As I say in the introduction, I’ve read the book multiple times. I love Madeline and I love The Song of Achilles.’
As he worked, he instructed me in a voice that was low and quick.
In the late afternoon light, Chiron guided us.
What makes this book so special? ‘In one way, it’s extremely faithful. It takes its plotlines from The Iliad and what we know from other later ancient sources, although where The Iliad crunches up a month and a half of battle, in Achilles we get a blow-by-blow chronology. That gives us a very different perspective on both men, because in The Iliad we only see them for this intense moment, which turns out to be the end of Patroclus’ life.’
Where The Song of Achilles becomes radical, Wilson says, is in its characterisation. ‘In The Iliad, Patroclus is a killer and a rapist, and there’s no sense that he’s got to be a nice person, by modern standards, in order for us to care about him. In fact, we’re invited to admire him precisely because he’s really good at massacre and outstanding at taunting his victims.’ In one memorable scene in The Iliad, as one victim falls spectacularly from his chariot, Patroclus mocks him as he dies. ‘He’s saying: “You’re such a gymnast. Look how athletic this guy is.” It’s horrible!’ says Wilson. ‘That is who the Patroclus of The Iliad is. He’s demonstrating that he is “the best” of the Achaeans [Homer’s Greeks] in that sense.
‘But the Patroclus of The Song of Achilles is so different – much softer and loving. Miller’s point is that maybe being “the best” isn’t about killing. And as a classicist I think that’s a pretty rewarding way of pushing back on the culture of The Iliad. It’s a productive friction with the text.’
Miller’s version of Patroclus has won the book legions of admirers, not least illustrator Julie Dillon. ‘The Song of Achilles is one of Julie’s favourite books,’ says Fiction Editor Sinéad O’Callaghan. ‘On any new project we always ask artists to choose the scenes they feel most connected to, and Julie picked far more scenes than were needed! When the initial roughs were created, Art Director Sheri Gee and I hopped on a call with Madeline and discussed all things Achilles and Greek myth, what she felt was important to be evoked in the illustrations, and which of the rough sketches she would like to explore further. The illustrations are filled with such narration you feel like you’re right there in the scene with the characters.’
He reached for my collar-bone.
Just as the text presents an unfamiliar yet radically truthful version of its characters, so too does the artwork. ‘Classical heroes have been so whitewashed, not only by Hollywood, but in art and literature across the ages,’ says O’Callaghan. This isn’t the Disney version of Hercules.’
Besides the scholarly and moral justification for such careful representation, it is also profoundly Homeric. ‘A huge part of the appeal of the book is its attention to the synesthetic ways of evoking the physical world,’ says Wilson. ‘In particular how Achilles’ body looks, how it feels physically, how his voice sounds. That precision is also there in Homer, and it makes you feel you really are in this world, even though it’s such a strange world in certain ways.’
No less essential than visual accuracy was for the artwork and design to convey the deep emotion which throbs through The Song of Achilles. ‘The slipcase embodies an old Greek urn, on which Patroclus and Achilles are embracing,’ says O’Callaghan, ‘and that contrasts with the cover, where Achilles is in full armour with Patroclus watching from the shadows. It’s so tender, and evocative of both their friendship
and their love.’ The Song of Achilles also has a keen following across social media. Videos relating to the book have racked up tens of millions of views on TikTok, while on Instagram, one fan showcases her collection of 75 different editions. ‘This book clearly does invite us to have very intense feelings,’ says Wilson. ‘I think some grown-ups feel we’re not supposed to be letting teenagers have feelings – or at least not about classical texts or characters. It’s a kind of gatekeeping. But artistic creativity lies in giving yourself room to do something different. It can be through retelling the story in a different kind of language, or setting it in modern context, but it can also be about shifting the point of view, or thinking through a character who might be in the background in the original.
’What if we’re all drawn to these retellings, in part, because in these ancient figures we see ourselves – an Athena who is a warrior, Achilles a gay man, or Patroclus a homemaker? ‘Ancient stories, ancient texts, whether Greco-Roman or from other cultures, do offer us a mirror of ourselves,’ says Wilson. ‘But it’s a distorted one. They contain much that is very, very alien, and I think we understand the present better and understand ourselves better by seeing where the differences lie, as much as in seeking out the familiar.
‘I resist the idea that these stories are universal and timeless,’ she says. ‘They are of a particular culture and time, and as we change, the things that feel the same and different change. That means there is a constant urge to rethink and reorient and retell ancient myths and histories. There’s not a time in modern history when that hasn’t been happening – and The Song of Achilles does it so beautifully.’
I touched my hand to his, where the crowd could not see it.
Thetis stood in the doorway.
‘I gasped when I opened the box – the cover is gorgeous! I'm so thrilled to see my work in such an incredibly thoughtful and beautiful package!’ - Madeline Miller