Sleepless and Entranced: A 5AM Review of The Song of Achilles

 

Intro

    What's up! Currently, it's 5AM, and I've just finished The Song of Achilles. Funnily enough, I finished the book out of spite (to fix my sleep schedule through an all-nighter). Instead, The Song of Achilles entranced me and captivated me, and all the other synonyms describing the state of having one's attention captured. Reading the book at this time was truly immersive, and I was not overcome by the clutches of sleep, nor did I acquiesce to my tiredness. To say I'm surprised is the understatement of the century, but I beat sleep thanks to this book. With the warm light of a trusty IKEA lamp, I was able to fully delve into the story of Patroclus and Achilles, as well as other characters that lingered.  

Short Book Summary (No Spoilers!)

    Madeline Miller's The Song of Achilles assumes a first-person narration through Patroclus, a young prince exiled from his homeland after an act of violence. Achilles awaits Patroclus in Phthia and is proclaimed aristos achaion, or "the best of all the Greeks." He's the son of the fierce, harsh sea goddess Thetis and the mortal king Peleus. The two forge an intimate connection despite the risk of invoking the nemesis. 

    The pair train with Chiron in the fields of war and medicine, but their edification is disrupted by the news of Helen of Sparta's kidnapping. Thus, the heroes of Greece are promised prizes of material wealth and glory upon sacking Troy in her name. Achilles joins the cause after the promise of a glorious destiny, and Patroclus follows. 

    Miller's writing is brilliant and lyrical; Her prose has a softness to it that makes the brutal moments feel deeply human. It's rich with emotional undertones and reads both like a love letter and a requiem. 

Warning: Spoilers Below

What I Liked: Characters

    The characters of Patroclus and Briseis enamored me. While Patroclus was presented as an awkward, gangly, exiled prince, his internal dialogue and thoughtful nature won me over. I picked up this book expecting a story solely centering the well-accomplished and lauded hero, Achilles. His impact on the narrative truly astounded me. I was verbally dissuading Patroclus from joining the war when he begged to fight in Achilles' place. Patroclus was never bred for war, but he picked up training from his days accompanying Achilles in his training. Patroclus fearlessly fought clad in Achilles' armor, slaying Sarpedon, second to Hector on the Trojan side in terms of power and military prowess. Sadly, Patroclus falls in battle after attempting to scale the Trojan's wall, immediately disarmed and weakened by Apollo. He was wounded by Euphorbus with a spear and ultimately stabbed by Hector. As a result, Patroclus' demise inspired Achilles to rejoin the war, seeking vengeance for Patroclus' death. Thus, the connection between Patroclus and Achilles was a highlight of mine. 

    Briseis, an Anatolian woman, was taken by the Greek army as a spoil of war. She was gifted to Achilles, but when Achilles defied Agamemnon, the commander-in-chief of the Greeks, he confiscated her from Achilles as punishment. My liking of her character stemmed primarily from the friendship she shared with Patroclus. Briseis quickly learned Greek and even grew a crush on Patroclus, though it was futile and one-sided due to Patroclus' love for Achilles. In Patroclus' final moment with Briseis, she sincerely promises Patroclus that if their camp falls to the Trojans, she will claim Patroclus as her husband to potentially stop the opposing forces from killing him. Before the sacking can occur, Patroclus takes Achilles' armor and falls in combat. When Achilles eventually dies from Paris' arrow, the new aristos achion, Neoptolemus, known as Pyrrus for his fiery red hair, is predicted to be pivotal to the fall of Troy. It cannot take place without him. Briseis begs him to honor Patroclus alongside Achilles and fulfill Achilles' dying wish of being beside his lifelong companion in death as well. Pyrrus, ever so cruel, refuses, and she tries to kill him, but he evades her and kills her with a spear after she attempts to flee into the sea. 

What I Disliked: Pacing

    The shift in the relationship between Patroclus and Achilles at Phthia was slow to develop and finally caught my attention when they went to Mount Pelion under the tutelage of Chiron. While the novel was chock-full of poetic voltas, or shifts, the transitory phase before the sudden turn of events was slow to burn and made reading a chore for me. That's to say, I was still able to finish the book because of the poignant climax; it's just the beginning that made the story slow to unfold. 

Discussion Question + My Answer

    After finishing the book, I noticed a collection of discussion questions tucked away in the back. One in particular struck me:

"9. What is the significance of song and music in the novel?"

    The title itself, The Song of Achilles, is a direct nod to music and storytelling. This theme becomes especially powerful in the final scene, when Patroclus, even in death, tells Achilles' story to Thetis. The act of reminiscing becomes a song, an elegy that ensures Achilles' legacy lives on.

    Music also appears in subtle ways throughout the novel. Patroclus recalls his mother's lyre after her death, a memory tied to warmth and a sense of connection. That same lyre is given to Achilles when Patroclus arrives in Peleus's kingdom as a "payment" for harboring an exile. The lyre becomes a symbol of Patroclus' past as well as a physical representation of his bond with Achilles and their shared space and history.

    In a particularly emotional moment, Patroclus is hurt by Achilles' decision to give Briseis to Agamemnon. He's filled with immense, foreign feelings of rage and betrayal by Achilles that he considers smashing and destroying the lyre in their shared tent. Thus, the lyre is established at that moment as not just an instrument but something tied deeply to Patroclus' mother and Achilles. The impulse further reflects how music isn't reduced to background noise but rather a tool of memory, grief, love, and even anger. 

Closing Thoughts

    I'd recommend this book to mythology lovers and mature audiences who can appreciate the nuanced conversations about the portrayal of ancient women, war, and love. This book is not necessarily an easy beach read and is best suited as a late-night escape. The late hours, especially, contribute to the novel's deep, emotional mood. I found that I could become engrossed when there was no outside noise, leaving me with just the quiet and my thoughts to process this heavy, poignant story.