Ancient Greatness

“Sing, goddess, of the anger of Achilleus, son of Peleus, the accursed anger which brought uncounted anguish on the Achaians and hurled down to Hades many mighty souls of heroes, making their bodies prey to dogs and the birds’ feasting: and this was the working of Zeus’ will. Sing from the time of the first quarrel which divided Atreus’ son, the lord of men, and godlike Achilleus.”

What an opening. This is the first paragraph of book 1 of Homer’s The Iliad, and has got to

be one of the best opening paragraphs of any book ever. The air quivers as Homer invokes the Muse to help him in his storytelling and already we feel the presence of divine spirits. We meet Achilleus, godlike Achilleus, my favourite hero who was responsible for the Greeks’ ruin and their salvation. We are told of the horror of war, of birds and dogs feasting on the unburied bodies of the brutally killed and the gods watching unmoved from Olympus above. Finally, we hear of Atreus’ son, Agamemnon, the ultimate bully that you love to hate. 

There is simply everything in this story, all human emotions and behavior are laid bare and ripped apart…and it is fantastic. 

I love this stuff, always have. Ever since I was little and had a picture book with the epic myths of Ancient Greece and Rome laid out in primary colours, I have loved them. The warriors and heroes, the crazy, vicious women and the magical metamorphoses; it’s all here, it’s all a bit mental and it’s all brilliant. I then went to university to study Classical Civilisation and my enthusiasm for the ancient, Achilleus in particular, grew and grew. 

I finally did my dissertation on ‘Achilleus in the 21^st Century’ which allowed me to follow him from his creation in our mythical past, through the ages of plays, oratory and vases finally to Troy, the 2004 film with Eric Banner as heavenly Hector and Brad Pitt as godlike Achilleus.

The reason my affection for swift-footed Achilleus has rekindled recently is because of one fabulous book. The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller tells the hero’s story through the eyes of his lover Patroclus. Troy had young Pat being Achilleus’ cousin, but most ancient sources, including Plato’s Symposium, acknowledge their relationship was much more romantic. Miller certainly takes this view and the focus of the book is much more on their relationship and how it affected the glory that Achilleus so ardently sought, rather than concentrating on the glory itself. She includes several myths surrounding Achilleus, and some about Patroclus, that I had never heard before which made it just as interesting a read as it was compelling. For those with the critical eye, I believe you will find this book a great combination of classical knowledge with wonderful story telling, and no blockbuster alterations.

What makes Miller’s book particularly special for me, however, is her incredible ability to capture the personalities of the famous Ancient Greeks. Never before have I felt that I am seeing so much of Achilleus’ character. Not just his unparalleled skill on the battlefield, not just his determination and desperate need for unforgettable fame, but also how he felt about those close to him. His relationship with his father and goddess-mother help explain his motivations and decisions but his relationship with Patroclus and the love he has for him allows you to know what made Achilleus smile, what he cared about and how he showed affection. Whilst I knew what was going to happen at the end, Miller’s writing kept me enthralled until the very last line and has awoken a passion for the heroes of the ancient world that I had forgotten. I only wish this book had been written when I was writing my dissertation. 

I definitely recommend you read this book, but I also recommend you have a go at The Iliad. I warn you, it is not easy going and you can easily miss out some parts such as the Catalogue of Ships. But, the story is still amazing and I think you will appreciate The Song of Achilles more if you have read his story in Homer’s words. 

If you manage that, there is also The Odyssey by Homer and The Aeneid by Virgil. Both involve a lot of piercing men through the nipple with spears and long-drawn-out heroic dressing scenes, but, if you like your fantasy stories full of monsters, gods, witches and heroes then you have to read the originals. Besides, it wasn’t fantasy back then, it was real. 

In the 21^st century, I’d like to recommend some other books of sort of the same ilk. 

Pompeii by Robert Harris tells of the tragic eruption of Vesuvius through the eyes of those that were there. Another great insight into the personalities behind the history.

Lindsey Davis’ series of books set in ancient Rome has Falco, a sort of Roman detective, solving the mysteries that troubled the great city.

Finally, one of my favourites, Gods Behaving Badly by Marie Phillips. The ancient gods are back…and living in north London. Things haven’t gone well for them over the centuries but they’re about to get a whole lot worse. Very funny, utterly charming and great for Classics nerds. 

I leave you with one of the best Homer quotes, which I have always wanted to say in a boring meeting but never quite had the nerve.

“There is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep”

Egg-cellent Family Easter Reading

Easter Sunday: a holiday to celebrate Jesus dying for our sins and then rising from the dead in a most surprising and cheerful manner and every one being very happy about it...He then picked up a rabbit from the garden and said "You are now the Easter Bunny. You will deliver chocolate eggs to all those who have given it up to mark my time in the desert, the eggs should be decorated with baby things like lambs and ducklings as they're cute and show the joy of spring time!"  

Or....Christianity got muddled with a pagan Springtime ritual of some sort, but I much prefer my slightly blasphemous version, apologies if you don't.    

Most people associate Easter with Jesus, chocolate and a very-much-needed bank holiday, but not necessarily a family holiday. However, when my flatmate and I were discussing how we were both spending Easter with our families, she commented that "It's like Christmas, but without the pressure." Which is so true! No worries about presents or everyone getting along, just lots of food and sitting around together in a if-you-feel-like-it sort of way, it's even sunny...some years.  

Apparently it's a German thing...we like it

In my parents' house there is a definite feeling of confusion that it isn't Christmas. It's cold outside, my dad is having constant battles with the fire, we're drinking a competitive amount of wine and reading in silence a lot, we even have a tree (see photo). 

We tend to do a lot of reading here, speaking is done during meal times but otherwise it's a pleasant quiet of page turning and the low rumble of the fire. Often a conversation will take along time if we do try to have one because someone will either say something while walking out a room, or forget the rest of us weren't privy to the earlier bit of the thought process that had happened inside their head, or we're all so engrossed in what we're reading that we only give half answers and any external person would think we sound like monosyllabic maniacs. 

 So it's better to keep quiet. Like Ents, if we're going to talk then it's better not to waste words.  

After giving you that bizarre insight into the strange little microcosm that is the Prysor-Jones household, I thought I would give you a bit more and tell you what we're all reading.

I am currently curled up in the corner of the comfy sofa and have just finished reading Skulduggery Pleasant, Playing with Fire, the second in Derek Landy's wonderful series about a skeleton detective. It actually makes me laugh out loud, much to the annoyance of some family members who think I'm too old to get this much pleasure out of children's books. I said it's because I want to work in children's book publishing that I have to read this sort of thing, but actually it's because it's brilliant. 

To broaden my mind, however, I am now reading Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys. It tells the story of Antoinette, the daughter of a white slave-trader on a Jamaican island. In the first part we see her traumatic childhood seen through her eyes with her strange and dramatic family, then in the second part, the part I have just started, a new voice begins to narrate. This voice belongs to a rather famous Mr Rochester? I do hope you have heard of him? He has married this young, beautiful and exotic woman but in the hazy heat and tension of the island he starts to doubt that everything is what it seems. Knowing the next bit of the story from Jane Eyre's perspective, I am looking forward to seeing how it felt for the person hidden away. This copy was my mum's when she was at school, it was published in 1968 and cost five shillings. I'm enjoying it so far, especially how the jarring and muddled way the writing is fashioned encourages the reader imagine the stifling environment and to feel the trauma, passion, fear and, dare I say, madness of the characters. 

My dad has just informed me, in an overly casual fashion I felt, that's he has been 


reading The Lord of the Rings in Italian. I suppose if you're learning a language then reading a book you know really well is a good idea...but Lord of the Rings? How often is he going to need to know how to say 'Orc' in Italian? He is now researching lamb recipes, this I am actively encouraging, especially after he said something about butter, garlic and rosemary. Yum.  

I just sneaked a look at my sister's Kindle to see what she's reading and it's in Spanish...I am feeling irritably inferior. I also don't feel this is a fair representation of her usual reading habits. Honor reads more than anyone else I know, and reads everything, if we ignore her slight disregard for hilarious skeleton-detective books. Apparently her book is like The Three Musketeers but Spanish, at least, someone is a captain and they keep getting into fights in taverns. But, it's annoying her because she thinks she would really enjoy it in English.

Previously, she read Love in Idleness by Amanda Craig, which apparently is A Midsummer Night's Dream in modern day Tuscany. It sounds fabulous to me, A Midsummer Nights Dream being my favourite Shakespeare play and Tuscany is one of my favourite places. Honor says she really liked it, especially the characters and the relationships between them. Apparently it took her a while to figure out the Shakespeare element and it was only when people started making potions that the penny dropped. But a fun and easy read and I would like to borrow it from her, apart from she read it on her Kindle - biggest downfall of technology in my view. 
















 My mum reads a lot too, she's a member of a book club so ends up reading many strange things not of her choosing. This one, Tigers in Red Weather by Liza Klaussmann, is one she is thinking of suggesting. The book is about a woman in New England who is bored of her life and marriage, but the story, genre and everything you are expect completely changes when there is a gristly discovery behind a tennis court years later. The title of the book comes from a poem called Disillusionment at 10 O'Clock by Wallace Stevens. A poem that draws upon the dreariness of a life that has no colour, no imagination, the exact sort of disappointing life the main character Nick, finds herself in. Mum thought it was intriguing and a page turner, but not one for the book group as she couldn't face reading it again. 

Maybe your family is not the sort who can spend hours comfortably in the same room but in different worlds. Maybe reading is not a central point that conversations pivot from. But, if you're a reader and someone else in your family is a reader than you can safely bet that they will also enjoy talking about whatever they're reading. Take an interest, ask them about it, even if it's your five year-old nephew's story about a duck with a spade or your overly loud aunt's sickening romance novel "Love in a Time of Avian Flu". Talking about books can be almost as fun as reading them. It is also something that can be done together as a family, which after all, is what Jesus and the Easter Bunny would have wanted.