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A review by readershark
The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller
5.0
How do I write the next epic? How do I choose which characters to hold in my hands and write about their love like it is my own, and grieve with them when they are lost? How do I know which love is made for retelling? These are the questions I’d like to think Miller asked herself before writing TSOA, because she answered every one.
Achilles and Patroclus were in love. This written love is so tender and beautiful, spilled onto the page with so much care and work. I love them. I love how much they love each other, even if it is destructive. I want them to be together, always. I want no one to forget how Patroclus fits in Achilles arms, how safe Achilles felt with him, how he always told his deepest love to stand behind him so he could protect the one thing he would pray to. I know a lot of these scenes were made for this story alone, and this is certainly a fascinating take on the Iliad, but I like to think that they really did do all these things.
This book filled me. I do not know with what. There were moments where I thought it was love only to get enraged or devastated pages later. I read it via audiobook and so many lines jumped out on me I know I will read it physically soon.
I have never cried so hard while reading. I did not cry even at the parts I thought I would. It was really the last bit that pulled me under, so many thoughts that could never reach the characters bubbling out not in words but in the tears that stained my cheeks. I loved this book. I feel it in my heart, this love of Patroclus and Achilles. This tender warmth that they carved for each other. I want the kind of love that can and will be retold and retold and will play amongst the stars every night. I ache for it.
But that love is not destined for all. Much like Achilles knows with heroes, there are few love stories this great that end with happiness alone.
So instead I will read theirs. Over and over and over. I will watch them love each other even in death. I will watch their constellations pull towards each other, even if it is two stars that look just a bit closer than the rest, I will know it is them, reaching for each other to tell the galaxy that even an unending universe will not tear them apart. I will know these words divined as well as Patroclus knows the pattern of Achilles’ breath. I want to know them this well. I want their love to last forever through me and me alone. Maybe that is what it means to have my own epic love.
In a much shorter version: I guess you could say I liked this book.
Achilles and Patroclus were in love. This written love is so tender and beautiful, spilled onto the page with so much care and work. I love them. I love how much they love each other, even if it is destructive. I want them to be together, always. I want no one to forget how Patroclus fits in Achilles arms, how safe Achilles felt with him, how he always told his deepest love to stand behind him so he could protect the one thing he would pray to. I know a lot of these scenes were made for this story alone, and this is certainly a fascinating take on the Iliad, but I like to think that they really did do all these things.
This book filled me. I do not know with what. There were moments where I thought it was love only to get enraged or devastated pages later. I read it via audiobook and so many lines jumped out on me I know I will read it physically soon.
I have never cried so hard while reading. I did not cry even at the parts I thought I would. It was really the last bit that pulled me under, so many thoughts that could never reach the characters bubbling out not in words but in the tears that stained my cheeks. I loved this book. I feel it in my heart, this love of Patroclus and Achilles. This tender warmth that they carved for each other. I want the kind of love that can and will be retold and retold and will play amongst the stars every night. I ache for it.
But that love is not destined for all. Much like Achilles knows with heroes, there are few love stories this great that end with happiness alone.
So instead I will read theirs. Over and over and over. I will watch them love each other even in death. I will watch their constellations pull towards each other, even if it is two stars that look just a bit closer than the rest, I will know it is them, reaching for each other to tell the galaxy that even an unending universe will not tear them apart. I will know these words divined as well as Patroclus knows the pattern of Achilles’ breath. I want to know them this well. I want their love to last forever through me and me alone. Maybe that is what it means to have my own epic love.
In a much shorter version: I guess you could say I liked this book.