The Song of Achilles [Kindle Edition]

This book is very well-written and very involving in places but I did have my reservations about it. Patroclus's narrative voice is believable and gives a convincing account of his childhood misfortunes, the events which lead up to the Trojan War and the War itself. I like the depictions of characters like Odysseus and Agamemnon very much, place and mood are very well evoked, and there are some exciting and very interesting episodes.

Madeline Miller is very keen to portray the relationship between Patroclus and Achilles as one of deep, enduring love, both spiritual and sexual. Whether or not this is justified by the source texts is arguable, but it is a noble aim. However, what we actually get is long, long periods where Patroclus moons around after Achilles like a love-sick puppy, to the point that I felt that the author herself was the one in love with Achilles and wasn't going to miss an opportunity to write a beautifully constructed sentence about his muscles, his hair, the curve of his chin or the soles of his feet (which seem to hold an endless fascination for her) and so on, which I eventually found almost unendurably tedious in places.

There were sufficient good things about this book to make a three-star rating seem very churlish, but it's only just four stars for me. Many other reviewers here have obviously enjoyed it very much, but I can only give it a qualified recommendation.

The Song of Achilles is the first novel (hopefully of many more) by a very talented author, Madeleine Miller. Anyone who has read The King Must Die and The Bull From The Sea by the legendary Mary Renault will lock in immediately to the style of this narrative. Achilles is brought to life from his childhood to his exploits at Troy, but this version of his life is told from the view of Patroclus, his friend, companion and lover. The love aspect of the relationship is handled sensitively and in a manner that will not offend the most sensitive of readers and the action scenes and characters of the heroes, both Greek and Trojan, are well addressed. Once started, I found it difficult to put this book down, and was reluctant to close it at the end. A very different approach to Homer's immortal story has hopefully launched a new literary star into ascendancy and I look forward to more of this lady's work in the near future.

Those who pick up this novel expecting the sort of rousing martial adventure usually associated with the name Achilles will be in for a shock. This is a same-sex love story; achingly tender and as fraught with fate as that of Romeo and Juliet.

Patroclus is used to being a disappointment. His father is "a king and the son of kings", but his son is scrawny and unprepossessing: "I was not fast. I was not strong. I could not sing". The ideal son is like handsome, athletic Achilles, a boy his own age who takes the winner's garland at the games held by Patroclus' father. "His father comes to claim him, smiling and proud. My own father watches in envy. He turns to me. `That is what a son should be.' I watch King Peleus embrace his son. I see the boy toss the garland in the air, and catch it again. He is laughing, and his face is bright with victory."

Little wonder that when he's exiled to King Peleus' court at the age of ten, Patroclus bitterly resents charismatic, golden-haired Achilles with his preternatural skills and admiring sycophants. No one is more surprised than Patroclus when Achilles chooses him as his companion. Achilles recognizes a kindred-spirit, he too is lonely - who can a prince trust? As their cautious alliance develops into true friendship, Patroclus blossoms; for the first time in his life he has someone who values him, cares about him. The two grow up together, inseparable, and during three carefree years spent studying in isolation with the wise centaur Chiron, they become lovers as well as friends. But inevitable war with Troy brings an end to their idyll, and Patroclus must watch his soul-mate fulfill his implacable destiny as "the greatest warrior of his generation". Their love remains steadfast, though as Achilles grows increasingly ruthless and iron-hearted, it will be tested. Patroclus recalls Odysseus' warning words: "He is a weapon, a killer. Do not forget it. You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature."

There is no sense of fantasy about Miller's Bronze Age world. That gods walk among men is a reality taken as a given, if an unnerving and sometimes terrifying one. "The Song of Achilles" is a gem of a story, luminous and engaging, written with spare elegance and a heart-breaking ending which had me sniffling on cue. I loved it, but (and here I step into politically incorrect territory), I would - I'm a woman. Women will adore this tale. Irrespective of the gender of the lovers, it's pure, classic romance of the all-consuming sort which tragedy makes deathless - a love that time will never reduce to a state of comfortable mediocrity.

Did it ring true for me? Not with total conviction. Miller's Patroclus is thoughtful and caring, a healer. He has no inclination or aptitude for fighting and avoids it where possible. Let's face it, however disarming, he's frankly a bit of a nerd, a sensitive New Age Achaean. I had difficulty reconciling him with the image I take from the "Iliad" of a companion who is sword-brother as well as heart-brother. Can I see this Patroclus donning Achilles' armour and flying into a battle frenzy, killing all in his path and attacking the very walls of Troy? Not really. Maybe I have to believe that he has stepped out of character at the will of the gods so that events can fall as predicted? The wonderful thing about the great, enduring stories like the "Iliad" is that they can be endlessly reinvented and interpreted in fresh ways. This is a very different vision, the quintessentially masculine world of the "Iliad" seen through the soft-focus lens of a romantic female sensibility; compelling, but at times disconcertingly alien.