GUEST POST: "The Song of Achilles" and "Circe," by Madeline Miller

I am very pleased that my colleague and friend Cathy Gabor has written a guest post on two books by Madeline Miller. Thank you, Cathy! Here it is: "I recently read two books by Madeline Miller, both retellings of—or, more accurately, elaborations on—Greek myths: The Song of Achilles (2011, winner of the Orange Prize) and Circe (2018). They are roughly analogous to Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey but with clear departures. If people know anything about Achilles, it is most likely that he was a hero in the Trojan War. And, indeed, a good part of Miller’s Song of Achilles takes place during that war. Despite the title, the book’s main character is Patroclus, not Achilles. Readers may remember Patroclus as a minor character in Homer’s Iliad, known as Achilles’ trusted friend. Miller’s telling of their lives starts when they are both young boys. Achilles is a demi-god, fated to become Aristos Achaion: the best of the Greeks. He is handsome, lithe, and as talented with the lyre as he is with the sword. Patroclus, conversely, is a pudgy youth, awkward, striving to find what he might be good at. In a word, Patroclus is unnoticeable. But Achilles notices him—and falls in love with him. Song of Achilles is a tale of war, yes, but it is mostly a poignant story of young lovers discovering themselves and each other. In the end, Miller’s book does not celebrate heroes; it celebrates the fumbling, fallible humanity of Patroclus, and all of us. Although Song of Achilles is markedly different from the Iliad, it does follow the same narrative arc. Circe, on the other hand, intersects with Homer’s Odyssey much less often and less neatly. If readers know anything about the minor goddess Circe, it is probably that Odysseus spent time on her island while traveling home from the Trojan war. Homer’s story is about him; Circe is but a chapter in his journey. For Miller, Circe is the main character: an immortal witch involved in many different stories from Greek mythology, some familiar and some created anew. When I had read roughly one-third of the book, I felt as if I were at the end of a narrative. Miller had successfully woven Circe into the myths of Daedalus and the Minotaur, and had seemingly concluded. I wondered what could possibly fill up the next 285 pages. In the middle of the book, Miller delivered another episode of Circe’s millennia-long life, this time paralleling Homer’s familiar tale, ending with Odysseus leaving her island. Now two-thirds of the way through the book, I feared a 100-page long denouement. Not so: Miller conjured up a creative sequel to the Odyssey, starring Circe and Odysseus’ wife Penelope. Circe’s greatest strength is its greatest weakness: it is three stories (more, really) in one. In the most interesting part of the book, Miller fabricates a female-centered myth, pitting mortal Penelope, magical Circe, and the Goddess Athena against one another. I recommend these books to readers who know Greek mythology well: you will nod at unexplained allusions, surely, and enjoy the backstories Miller paints for some of the most beloved myths. I recommend these books equally to those who could not name one Greek god or hero. These books stand on their own: they are tales of love, heartache, aging, parenthood, and pride. While the characters are fanciful and ancient, their stories are our stories. Read, and recognize yourself."