Book Spotlight and Author Q&A: Madeline Miller
We are excited to help author, Madeline Miller, and Ecco/HarperCollins celebrate the paperback release of Madeline's novel, The Song of Achilles. The paperback edition hits the shelves today. The novel is the winner of the 2012 Orange Prize for Fiction. I will be reading and reviewing this title in November.
Author’s Note – THE SONG OF ACHILLES by Madeline Miller
I have loved ancient Greece since I was five and my mother began reading me the Greek
myths. I was enthralled: by the larger-than-life gods, the epic adventures, and most particularly
by the stories of the Trojan War, with its noble and deeply flawed heroes. “Sing, goddess, of the
terrible rage of Achilles,” begins The Iliad. The words resonated in me, lingering long after my
mother had closed the book and turned out the light.
Years later, when I became a student of Greek and Latin, I immediately sought out
The Iliad. The poetry and language were gorgeous, the story even more compelling than I
remembered. I spent a summer in Greece working on an archaeological dig, and my copy of
the The Iliad came with me. There, wandering in olive groves and swimming in the beautiful
Aegean, I began to think of how I, too, could sing of these ancient tales.
I had always been especially moved by Achilles, and his desperate grief over the
loss of his companion Patroclus. But who was Patroclus? I searched the ancient texts for
every mention of his name, and discovered an amazing man: exile and outcast, loyal and self-
sacrificing, compassionate in a world where compassion was in short supply. I had not thought
The Iliad had a love story; I was wrong.
It has been the deepest privilege and pleasure to spend the last ten years sailing in
Homer's wine-dark waters. I very much hope you will enjoy reading this book as much as I have
loved writing it.
Q.: Do the Greek myths really matter in our modern world of cutting-edge technology and
tenuous global politics?
A.: It can be a cliché to call a story timeless. But the stories of ancient Greece—the Iliad
foremost among them—are exactly what this cliché was made for. To borrow Ben Jonson,
they are not “of an age, but for all time.” Human nature and its attendant folly, passion, pride
and generosity has not changed in the past three thousand years, and are always relevant. And
especially at this fractured and shifting historical moment, I think people are looking back to
the past for insight. These stories have endured this long, moving generation after generation
of readers—they must, still, have something important to tell us about ourselves. Every day on
the front page of the newspaper is an Iliad of woes—from the self-serving Agamemnons to the
manipulative, double-speaking Odysseuses, from the senseless loss of life in war to the brutal
treatment of the conquered. It is all there, in Homer too: our past, present and future, inspiration
and condemnation both.
I would also add, more specifically, that I think the culture is ready for the kind of love story that transcends gender and time. I did not deliberately set out to tell a “gay” love story; rather, I was deeply moved by the love between these two characters—whose respect and affection for each other, despite the horrors around them, model the kind of relationship we all can aspire to.
I would also add, more specifically, that I think the culture is ready for the kind of love story that transcends gender and time. I did not deliberately set out to tell a “gay” love story; rather, I was deeply moved by the love between these two characters—whose respect and affection for each other, despite the horrors around them, model the kind of relationship we all can aspire to.
Q.: How much of the Achilles story depicted in THE SONG OF ACHILLES is based on the
classics and how much did you create in order to tell the story? And, can you explain how
you did your research for the book?
A.: In some ways I feel like I’ve been researching this book my whole life! I have loved the
ancient Greek myths since I was a child, and studied Latin and Greek throughout high school,
college, and graduate school. My professors gave me an incredible and electrifying education in
ancient history and literature, and all of it helped provide the foundation for the book—though at
the time, of course, I had no idea that I would one day use it for fiction.
Once I started writing the novel, I inevitably discovered that I needed to know more:
What exactly did ancient ship sails look like? What kind of flora and fauna does Homer
mention? My background in Classics helped there too; I had a lot of the answers already on my
bookshelf, or I knew where to go to find the information I needed. It was also extremely helpful
that I had spent time in parts of Greece and Turkey.
It was very important to me to stay faithful to the events of the Homer’s narrative. The
central inspiration behind the book is the terrible moment in the Iliad when Achilles hears
about Patroclus’ death. His reaction is shocking in its intensity. The great half-god warrior—
who carelessly defies rules, and condemns a whole army to death—comes completely unglued,
desperate with grief and rage. I wanted to understand what it was about Patroclus and their
relationship that could create that kind of crisis. Although Homer tells us what his characters do,
he doesn’t tell us much of why they do it. Who was Achilles? And why did he love Patroclus so
much? Writing the novel was my way of answering that question.
The biggest changes to the mythology came with the stories about Achilles’ life before
he came to Troy, which the Iliad doesn’t cover. There are many, many variations on these, so
part of what I was doing was figuring out which ones added to the novel’s arc, and which ones I
should omit.
Q.: Most people don’t know that much about Patroclus and his relationship with Achilles.
How did you come up with your theory that their friendship grew into love?
A.: I stole it from Plato! The idea that Patroclus and Achilles were lovers is quite old. Many
Greco-Roman authors read their relationship as a romantic one—it was a common and accepted
interpretation in the ancient world. We even have a fragment from a lost tragedy of Aeschylus,
where Achilles speaks of his and Patroclus’ “frequent kisses.”
There is a lot of support for their relationship in the text of the Iliad itself, though Homer
never makes it explicit. For me, the most compelling piece of evidence, aside from the depth of
Achilles’ grief, is how he grieves: Achilles refuses to burn Patroclus’ body, insisting instead on
keeping the corpse in his tent, where he constantly weeps and embraces it—despite the horrified
reactions of those around him. That sense of physical devastation spoke deeply to me of a true
and total intimacy between the two men.
Q.: What about the “Achilles Heel” legend? Where does it come from, and after all of your
research, do you believe it?
A.: Achilles’ most famous myth—his fatally vulnerable heel—is actually a very late story.
Our earliest account of it is by a Roman author, almost a millennium after the Iliad and the
Odyssey were first composed. During those thousand years a number of other stories popped
up to explain Achilles’ seeming invincibility, but the Iliad and Odyssey contain the simplest: he
wasn’t really invincible, just extraordinarily gifted in battle. Since the Iliad and Odyssey were
my primary inspiration, and since their interpretation seemed more realistic, this was the version
I chose to follow.
There are a number of fun myths about the heel, once that story became popular. The
most famous one is that, in trying to make him immortal, his mother, the goddess Thetis, dipped
him in the river Styx. The place where she held him—his heel—was the only place not made
invulnerable. Every time I have told this story to my middle school students, they erupt into
chaos:
“That’s so stupid! Why didn’t she just switch heels and dip him twice?”
“Or go back later, and do it again?”
“The water would still have seeped in!”
So that may have also influenced me on finding that a not-as-compelling reading.
Q.: If one wanted to visit Greece and its surrounding countries now, and walk in Achilles
and Patroclus’ footsteps, and “re-live” the Trojan War, what modern cities should they
visit and what might they find there?
A.: The journey would begin in northern Greece, in the region of Thessaly. We aren’t sure where
Peleus’ palace may have been (if it was a real place), but certainly Mount Pelion is still there.
It is a gorgeous spot to go hiking, and there’s even a mountain train that runs on the weekends.
Nearby, the major port town Volos is a wonderful place to visit and, given its excellent location,
could very well have been a good Phthian settlement in antiquity.
Next up would be the island of Scyros, where the goddess Thetis hid her son Achilles
from the war, disguising him as a woman. Scyros is in the middle of the Aegean, the most
southern of the Sporades island cluster. It’s quite rocky, especially in its southern region, and
also has some wonderful Byzantine and Venetian monuments, along with its stunning landscapes
and beaches. If you want the full Achilles experience, cross-dressing is a must.
After that, it’s off to Aulis, (modern Avlida), in Boetia, due north of Athens. This is
where the Greek fleet gathered before setting off to Troy. It’s quite a small town, but there are
beaches, of course, and you can sit on them and pretend that you’re there waiting for that kid
Achilles to finally show up so you can sack Troy already….
Though Achilles and Patroclus didn’t actually go there, now is a good time to take
a quick detour to Agamemnon’s palace at Mycenae, in the northern Peloponnese. It’s one
of the few Homeric-era ruins that we do have, other than Troy itself. You can see the
famous “Lion-Gate” entrance to the city, as well as the circular graves where the golden “Mask
of Agamemnon” and “Cup of Nestor” were found. As you tour the site, imagine that you’re the
proud son of Atreus himself, and bully some subordinates. But don’t go too far: Agamemnon
was killed with an ax in the bathtub by his fed-up wife.
Now, back to Aulis. After joining up with the fleet, Achilles and Patroclus would have
made their way to Troy, stopping several times along the way. Since we don’t really know where they stopped (even in mythology), I think that this gives you the right to land at pretty
much any fabulous Greek island that you wish. If you take the southern route, you can drop by
Lesbos, where the famous poetess Sappho (whom Plato named the tenth muse), lived and wrote.
Farther north is the island of Lemnos, which was infamous in ancient mythology as the home of
the venomous snake that crippled the hero Philoctetes. Watch where you step!
Personally though, I would recommend choosing the most northern route, which takes you, with just a little detour, by the incredible city of Istanbul. I had the good fortune to visit Istanbul this past spring, and it is breathtaking. Everywhere you look there is some priceless piece of history, from the Hittites to the Ottomans, not to mention its many modern attractions. So, you heard it here first: Patroclus definitely went to Istanbul.
Last stop: Troy itself, perched just below the Dardanelles. The nearby city of Canakkale is a great place to stay and boasts the full-size prop of the Trojan Horse used by the 2004 movie Troy. Brad Pitt himself arranged the donation, the rumor goes!
A short bus ride south brings you to the ancient archaeological site. Stand amid the ruins of five thousand years of history, and look out over the plains where the Greeks and Trojans fought. Though not much is left but stones, the feel of the place is unmistakably epic. Be sure to bring a jacket: not for nothing did Homer call it ‘Windy Ilios.’ Find the highest point—all that’s left of one of the ancient city’s famous towers— and remember the Iliad’s immortal first line:
Sing, goddess, of the rage of Achilles.
Q.: What do you hope that readers will gain from reading your book? And, what do you say to folks that say, reading the Greek myths is just too hard and not very interesting? That kids in school should be able to choose their own reading materials (vampire novels, and the like) and not have to worry about these classics?
A.: For those who have dipped into an ancient epic—the Iliad, say, or the Aeneid— and found it boring, here is my answer: I understand.
As a teacher, I have often had students who would come to me at the beginning of the school year and confess, I read the Aeneid over the summer and hated it. It doesn’t worry me: the poems assume a lot of background knowledge—who the gods are, and what the back story is. They also assume that their audience understands epic conventions, like listing all the generals and their ships, or using frequent repetition. If you don’t have that knowledge, the book can feel like a confusing slog. But, if you go into it with a guide—a good introduction, a quick re-read of Greek myths, a friend who loves it—then it just comes to life in your hands. Every one of those students, at the end of the school year, declared that they loved Vergil and they loved the Aeneid.
One of my explicit desires in writing this book was to make it so that readers didn’t have to know anything about the Iliad to enjoy it. I wanted to give them everything they needed to follow the action right then and there, so that they could experience Homer just as his first audiences would have: as entertainment, instead of an object of study.
The good news is that even if someone doesn’t appreciate a Classic text in school, they might go back to it later and realize that they enjoy it after all. I read Toni Morrison’s Sula in tenth grade and it went completely over my head; I just couldn’t connect with it. Then I picked it up again a few years ago, and absolutely loved it. So there’s always hope. In the meantime, what’s wrong with vampires?
Personally though, I would recommend choosing the most northern route, which takes you, with just a little detour, by the incredible city of Istanbul. I had the good fortune to visit Istanbul this past spring, and it is breathtaking. Everywhere you look there is some priceless piece of history, from the Hittites to the Ottomans, not to mention its many modern attractions. So, you heard it here first: Patroclus definitely went to Istanbul.
Last stop: Troy itself, perched just below the Dardanelles. The nearby city of Canakkale is a great place to stay and boasts the full-size prop of the Trojan Horse used by the 2004 movie Troy. Brad Pitt himself arranged the donation, the rumor goes!
A short bus ride south brings you to the ancient archaeological site. Stand amid the ruins of five thousand years of history, and look out over the plains where the Greeks and Trojans fought. Though not much is left but stones, the feel of the place is unmistakably epic. Be sure to bring a jacket: not for nothing did Homer call it ‘Windy Ilios.’ Find the highest point—all that’s left of one of the ancient city’s famous towers— and remember the Iliad’s immortal first line:
Sing, goddess, of the rage of Achilles.
Q.: What do you hope that readers will gain from reading your book? And, what do you say to folks that say, reading the Greek myths is just too hard and not very interesting? That kids in school should be able to choose their own reading materials (vampire novels, and the like) and not have to worry about these classics?
A.: For those who have dipped into an ancient epic—the Iliad, say, or the Aeneid— and found it boring, here is my answer: I understand.
As a teacher, I have often had students who would come to me at the beginning of the school year and confess, I read the Aeneid over the summer and hated it. It doesn’t worry me: the poems assume a lot of background knowledge—who the gods are, and what the back story is. They also assume that their audience understands epic conventions, like listing all the generals and their ships, or using frequent repetition. If you don’t have that knowledge, the book can feel like a confusing slog. But, if you go into it with a guide—a good introduction, a quick re-read of Greek myths, a friend who loves it—then it just comes to life in your hands. Every one of those students, at the end of the school year, declared that they loved Vergil and they loved the Aeneid.
One of my explicit desires in writing this book was to make it so that readers didn’t have to know anything about the Iliad to enjoy it. I wanted to give them everything they needed to follow the action right then and there, so that they could experience Homer just as his first audiences would have: as entertainment, instead of an object of study.
The good news is that even if someone doesn’t appreciate a Classic text in school, they might go back to it later and realize that they enjoy it after all. I read Toni Morrison’s Sula in tenth grade and it went completely over my head; I just couldn’t connect with it. Then I picked it up again a few years ago, and absolutely loved it. So there’s always hope. In the meantime, what’s wrong with vampires?
As for what I hope readers will gain: I certainly would love to hear that the novel inspired
some interest in Greek mythology in general, and the Iliad in particular. I hope too that it might
help to combat the homophobia that I see too often.
In writing this novel, I thought a lot about personal responsibility. Patroclus is not an
epic person, the way Achilles is. He’s an “ordinary” man. But he has more power than he
thinks, and the moments where he reaches out to others and offers what he sees as his very
modest assistance have huge positive ramifications. Most of us aren’t Achilles—but we can still
be Patroclus. What does it mean to try to be an ethical person in a violent world?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Madeline Miller grew up in Philadelphia, has a BA and MA from Brown University in Latin and Ancient Greek, and has been teaching both for the past nine years. She has also studied at the Yale School of Drama, specializing in adapting classical tales to a modern audience. She grew up in New York City and Philadelphia, but now lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts. The Song of Achilles is her first novel. Visit: www.madelinemiller.com.
ABOUT THE BOOK:
Greece in the age of Heroes. Patroclus, an awkward young prince, has been exiled to the kingdom of Phthia. Here he is nobody, just another unwanted boy living in the shadow of King Peleus and his golden son, Achilles.
Achilles, 'best of all the Greeks', is everything Patroclus is not — strong, beautiful, the child of a goddess — and by all rights their paths should never cross. Yet one day, Achilles takes the shamed prince under his wing and soon their tentative companionship gives way to a steadfast friendship. As they grow into young men skilled in the arts of war and medicine, their bond blossoms into something far deeper — despite the displeasure of Achilles's mother Thetis, a cruel and deathly pale sea goddess with a hatred of mortals.
Fate is never far from the heels of Achilles. When word comes that Helen of Sparta has been kidnapped, the men of Greece are called upon to lay siege to Troy in her name. Seduced by the promise of a glorious destiny, Achilles joins their cause, Torn between love and fear for his friend, Patroclus follows Achilles into war, little knowing that the years that follow will test everything they have learned, everything they hold dear. And that, before he is ready, he will be forced to surrender his friend to the hands of Fate.
Profoundly moving and breathtakingly original, this rendering of the epic Trojan War is a dazzling feat of the imagination, a devastating love story, and an almighty battle between gods and kings, peace and glory, immortal fame and the human heart.
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