Welcome to... THE APRILIAD!
For those of you who are new here and do not yet feel the existential dread and heart-stopping moroseness that a title + month pun inspires in the hearts of many, let me explain. First of all, hi. And second, you have been cursed to stumble upon yet another installment of PROJECT LONG CLASSICS. In this project, I divide up an intimidating book into skinny and appealing chunks, dispersed over the course of a month. This stems from one of my defining personality traits: pretending that someday I'll reread the million-page classics I half-read in school. But now, I'm actually doing it. So, let's get into it.
Book I: Plague and Wrath. I love that the Greek gods had nothing better to do than mess with human rivalries. It's like if you were allowed to pick fights between people while you watched reality TV.
Book II: A Dream, A Testing and The Catalogue of Ships. This chapter was roughly 60% roll call and I have to say, Homer, if you think I'm remembering ANY of these names, you are in for a posthumous surprise.
Book III: A Duel and A Trojan View of the Greeks. Okay, the Helen stuff is sadder than I remember. On a lighter note, you have to respect Homer's commitment to the wartime #OOTD.
Book IV: The Oath Is Broken and Battle Joined. If I were shot by an arrow and everyone wanted to stand around and poetically recap what had happened for paragraphs on end, I would freak the hell out. And I certainly wouldn't be all "it isn't mortal because of my sick-ass armor, don't worry about it."
Book V: Diomedes' Heroics. Huge chapter for fans of tongues getting cut off at the root.
Book VI: Hector and Andromache. Helen calling herself a "cold, evil-minded slut" and then going on to discuss how her husband is brainless and annoying... kind of a slay.
Book VII: Ajax Fights Hector. You have to respect Homer — that is a CRAZY matchup for this early in the game. Getting the big names out there early. Menelaus really catching strays out here... he's the only one brave enough to say he'll fight Hector and then Agamemnon gets up and calls him old and washed up in front of everyone... #JusticeForOlympian-BredMenelaus
Book VIII: Hector Triumphant. Pretty quick turnaround on triumph. Hector just got his ass beat by Ajax in front of everyone iirc. This chapter alone uses the insults "cry-baby" and "barefaced bitch." The ancient Greeks: they're just like us.
Book IX: The Embassy to Achilles. Folks, we're 20 days behind. I don't know how this happened, but I'm guessing a combination of ennui, laziness, self-pity, distraction, a girls' trip to Miami, and a hero's journey of my own involving frozen Oreos and learning how to play poker. But that's just a guess. Time to play catchup - 7 days left in April and 15 books left to go! Achilles, petty king.
Book X: Diomedes and Odysseus: The Night Attack. I'm going to be honest — this is way, way too many names for me to be keeping active track of who belongs to which long lost city-state. Let alone which gods are fans of which one.
Book XI: Achilles Takes Note. Achilles is like... the original person who says they're into self care but is actually just putting an amazing PR spin on being truly selfish and a nightmare to be around. Another crazy bloody chapter. And not in the British way. Although I guess that too.
Book XII: Hector Storms the Wall. This book loves nothing more than having one character say two full paragraphs of dialogue, then having another character parrot the exact same two paragraphs to another audience. It's very me when I'm trying to hit word count-coded.
Book XIII: The Battle at the Ships. Literally the only way that the hundreds of character names in this could be harder to track is if it were being read aloud. Which is, you know. The intention.
Book XIV: Zeus Outmanoeuvred. Look at that fancy spelling. We're in business. Hera is truly #goals in this chapter... I want to spend multiple pages getting all dressed up and be best friends with Sleep. As is we're barely even warm acquaintances. Although I guess your husband listing the various hot women he's slept with and expecting you to be flattered is not ideal.
Book XV: The Greeks at Bay. Imagine getting killed by a dart to the nipple... tough way to go out.
Book XVI: The Death of Patroclus. Uh oh. We got here faster than I remembered. Oh, Patroclus... you either live slaying or live long along to die seeing yourself become slayed. As the saying goes. (This works on 2 levels, because war is happening and also because Patroclus is cool.)
Book XVII: The Struggle over Patroclus. Mess with the body of Patroclus and your brain WILL ooze bloody out of the crest-socket... I know that's right!!! Patroclus hive we stay winning
Book XVIII: Achilles' Decision. Uh oh Hector!!!!! Get your ass ready!!! Here the boy comes!! We just have a dozen pages of the most stunning and poetic and emotive writing of all time to get through first. But then we're on our way.
Book XIX: The Feud Ends. You might think that if war is raging and we have bodies to collect and there's stolen armor on the lose and the battle is about to be lost that we DON'T have time for 30 pages of emotional exploration via dialogue. Rookie mistake.
Book XX: Achilles on the Rampage. I'm gonna say it... go off, king. Also extremely funny to be pleading for your life and fairly convinced it's going to work because you're the same age as your opponent. Fellow 25-year-olds, we are in a permanent truce!
Book XXI: Achilles Fights the River. He's just that good. Excellent strategy to hear someone's whole life story, all their suffering and sadnesses, plus YOUR involvement in it, and just go "idiot." afterward. This book is like a how-to guide for absolute sass at this point.
Book XXII: The Death of Hector. You read this title and you're all hell yeah and then you remember that little scene by the wall with the baby freaked out at the helmet and the wife and and and... I see what you did there, Homer. And it's only slightly undercut by the beginning of this chapter being about how Hector saw Achilles and ran away and Achilles had to chase him around the city limits thrice.
Book XXIII: The Funeral and the Games. Kind of a tough itinerary but okay. It is a testament to the power and beauty of the conversation between Patroclus' spirit and Achilles that the reader only spends some time like "okay... kind of insane that we're doing the Olympics right now."
Book XXIV: Priam and Achilles. Oh, the humanity!
Overall, usually I find the various installments of this project fairly easy to read, because of the whole They Are Very Short thing, but this never ended up feeling effortless. That's fine — what it did feel was incredibly evocative and impressive, a bajillion years after its writing. Rating: 4
The dying human beings interest me.
I like to watch from here. The rest of you, go there, among the Trojans and the Greeks, and help whichever side you each prefer.
The rape and abduction of an elite woman in peacetime, like the removal of Helen from her husband’s house in Sparta, is a terrible violation of social norms, because it threatens the male homeowner’s control over his own household, including its wealth, its social power, and the subordinate household members. Paris has done something not only ethically questionable, but also extremely imprudent. But in wartime, there are bad consequences for those who kidnap women only when a god’s desires or honor are violated—as with Chryseis, whose priestly father has a special relationship to Apollo. The horrors of war for women and children were well-known to ancient storytellers and audiences, who would have included women and children. These horrors are implicit in The Iliad. But mortal women’s experiences are not as central in this epic as they were in other ancient Greek poetry, such as wedding songs, songs of lament, and, later, Athenian tragedy.
And you, my child, will either come with me, and do humiliating work, enslaved to some harsh overlord, or else a Greek will grab your arm and hurl you from the wall—a dreadful death—in anger because Hector had killed perhaps his brother, son, or father.
But you, Achilles, you have become impossible! I hope the kind of anger you are fostering never takes hold of me—you monstrous hero! How can a person in the future learn anything good from you, if you refuse to save the Greeks from this catastrophe? You have no pity. Peleus the horseman was not your father, Thetis, not your mother. Gray sea and soaring rocks gave birth to you, and so you have an unrelenting heart.
If only conflict were eliminated from gods and human beings! I wish anger did not exist. Even the wisest people are roused to rage, which trickles into you sweeter than honey, and inside your body it swells like smoke.
Great father Zeus, will any mortals bother to tell their plans and schemes to deathless gods in any place across the boundless world? Do you not see?
“You can go later on that journey, Hera, but now let us enjoy some time in bed. Let us make love. Such strong desire has never suffused my senses or subdued my heart for any goddess or for any woman as I feel now for you. Not even when I lusted for the wife of Ixion, and got her pregnant with Pirithous, a councillor as wise as any god. Not even when I wanted Danae, the daughter of Acrisius, a woman with pretty ankles, and I got her pregnant with Perseus, the best of warriors. Not even when I lusted for the famous Europa, child of Phoenix, and I fathered Minos on her, and godlike Rhadamanthus. Not even when I wanted Semele, or when in Thebes I lusted for Alcmene, who birthed heroic Heracles, my son—and Semele gave birth to Dionysus, the joy of mortals. And not even when I lusted for the goddess, Queen Demeter, who has such beautiful, well-braided hair—not even when I wanted famous Leto, not even when I wanted you yourself—I never wanted anyone before as much I want you right now. Such sweet desire for you has taken hold of me.”
But what if one of the immortal gods witnesses us up there in bed together, and goes away and tells the other gods?