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booksandria · 2 months

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the song of fury - thoughts on Homer's Iliad

spoiler alert!

"I have endured what no one on earth has ever done before – I put my lips to the hands of the man who killed my son." | "Priam at the feet of Achilles", Jérôme-Martin Langlois.

After a month, I finally finished reading the Iliad. What a book, everyone! Although it's quite a tiring read, it's very obvious why it's a classic. It's a little funny to do a spoiler alert of a 3000+ old book, but beware anyways lol.

(btw i'm once again writing this in portuguese and translating it to english, sorry for any weird wording and grammar mistakes)

The tale of this piece on time of the ninth year of the Trojan War, which opens with the beginning of Achilles' fury until the moment when it is appeased, is heartbreaking, mainly because it is such a vivid portrayal of the horrors of war. How many were the victims of that war in the 24 books of the Iliad, and how many in all the other years that the poem leaves out? It's moving in every sense, and becomes even more impactful considering the context we're living in, with two wars going on in the world.

It's necessary to point out that a large part of the reason it's such a tiring book to read is because it has such a different formula from what we're used to: because it has an oral presentation context, there are many repetitive and formulaic parts that can be hard to swallow at times. Honestly, at every battle book I had the impression that I was reading the same thing over and over within 500 pages. Interestingly, despite this, I still felt quite involved in the battles, especially those that take place after book 9. You can feel the desperation on both sides of the war emanating from the pages, as if you were there in the middle of the battle. It's an intensity that can't be explained.

Of course, you can't talk about the Iliad without mentioning its most important character: Hector. There's no greater tragedy than reading this man in battle giving his all, convinced that he was going to win the war and be able to protect his city and his family, while we know exactly what's going to happen and that there's no escaping it. There's no other way the war can go, even if we want it to. It was inevitable that Patroclus would return to battle after seeing his companions massacred and that, manipulated by the divine will, he would go after the Trojans and sign his own death warrant. It was inevitable that Hector would kill Patroclus the first chance he got, doing literally the only thing that would make Achilles return to battle and also signing his own death warrant. And of course, it's inevitable that Achilles would kill Hector after everything and that, being who he is, that wouldn't be enough to calm his anger and ease his grief. Achilles' fury was simply inevitable. You can't escape the fate given by the gods, no matter what you do.

By the way, it's worth persevering through the fatigue that can take you up to book 15 precisely because, from book 16 onwards, it's simply impossible to stop reading. The battle around Sarpedon's body, then the chase to Troy, Patroclus' battle with Hector, the battle around Patroclus' body. Girl, you can't put the book down, I swear! From that point on, I just couldn't stop reading or crying. It was much worse to read Achilles' reaction to learning of his companion's death than it was to read Patroclus' death itself. The rage is suddenly not just rage, but the pain so deep and so suffocating of losing the person you love most in the world. Achilles knows he's going to die after killing Hector, but it doesn't matter anymore. The only thing that matters is avenging Patroclus, whatever the cost.

The sad thing is that Hector doesn't know what fate has in store for him. Hector doesn't know that he has just planted the seed of his own death. It's horrible to read the chase around Troy, it's horrible to read Athena deceiving Hector. Imagine you're about to die in battle because you know you can't face the storm that is the guy who wants to kill you, and then you have a quick hope that you'll survive because your brother has come to your rescue. Except he didn't, it was a goddess making you believe he did so that her will would be done. Absolutely horrible! I don't even know if I need to comment that all I could think about was the scene in book 6 where he meets his wife and little boy. Literally the last time they see each other, and neither of them knows it.

The thing is, Iliad is a sad book. It's refreshing and funny and exciting, but above all it's a sad book. And that's what interesting about it's ending, because it is still sad, even if in nature its hopeful. Priam goes to beg Achilles for his son's body and Achilles, deeply moved by him, agrees. The fury meets its end and merciless Achilles finds in himself to have mercy of this old man who could have been his father, because it will be his father right in the next year, grieving the child lost in battle. Hector can finally rest, an ending to all that death and all that pain we read for 24 books.

Except it isn't. Troy will still fall, fathers will still lose their lives, wives and kids will either meet their death or be forced into slavery. Priam's city will be lost forever, we just don't see it here. So, just like the trojans, we're allowed this brief moment of peace, though we both know it will end soon.

After a month digesting this book, I can't say anything other than how marvellous it is, the kind of book everyone should read at least once in their lives. I have to say, though, that there's still a bitter taste left in my mouth after reading this one because, as I said before, its harder to read it while we're living two major wars in the world right now. I just hope that this book story remains just a book story and we can see a different outcome in real life. We have to. Unlike in Iliad where fate is woven by gods, this is a man-made horror. We can put an end to it.

#books of 2024 #gia reads #feb 2024 #homers iliad #the iliad #bookblr #readerblr #readers of tumblr #books and reading #classic books

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pod-together · 2 years

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Day 3 Reveals!

There's A Dinosaur In The Medbay [text, audio] (The Transformers (IDW Generation One)) written by autobotscoutriella, performed by Gilraina Summary: In which Brainstorm's latest science experiment escapes the lab. Instances of Grace (Flight of the Heron - D. K. Broster) written by Garonne, performed by Luzula Summary: On his first morning in London, two days earlier, Keith had opened a newspaper to learn of the trial of four Jacobite lairds and their condemnation to death. The first name was Ewen Cameron of Ardroy, printed in irrefutable black on white. howling ghosts who reappear (Hades (Video Game 2018)) written by GwenChan, performed by GoLBPodfics Summary: When during a run through Elysium Patroclus finds himself a casualty of cross-fire, Zagreus discovers just how deep Achilles' affection for his companion goes and the old fury that still brews beneath the surface. Torn Asunder [text, audio] (Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types) written by nemorps, performed by GhostCwtch Summary: "Geralt?" Ciri asked in barely more than a murmur. "Hmm?" "What… What was Roach like?" Roach, the horse, was standing not ten feet away, dozing peacefully. Geralt heaved a sigh, rolling onto his back to stare up at the empty canopy. Only the barest hint of stars made it through the foliage. "She isn't gone." "Isn't she?" Geralt shook his head, though Ciri likely couldn't see it in the darkness. "I can still feel her. In my mind; in my heart. She's there." The Bunny Hop (陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù) written by FlutterFyre, performed by pezzax Summary: In the middle of serving punishment in the Library, Wei Wuxian disappears. Lan Wangji spends the next few days searching unsuccessfully for the missing disciple. Meanwhile there is an adorable bunny who has moved into the Jingshi. Who Let the Constructs Out? (The Murderbot Diaries - Martha Wells) written by CompletelyDifferent, performed by AirgiPodSLV, ArtemisTheHuntress, averytree, blackglass, ffg_podfics, Flowerparrish, GoLBCollabs, horchata, kalakirya, kittona, mistbornhero, and with Summary:

“Why,” Dr. Ayda Mensah asked, “am I looking at a ship full of augmented cats and dogs?” “You aren’t,” said SecUnit. “They’re constructs.” Only approximately 5.9% of my full floorspace is occupied by fauna, said the Perihelion. “Also,” said Three, “six of them are birds.”

Dr. Mensah attempts to piece together one (1) single mission brief from the three oral reports she receives before Iris comes back with more kibble (or anyone needs to use the litter box).

Sink My Teeth (Formula 1 RPF) written by LoveLeah, performed by growlery Summary: Writing the summer menu feels like writing his vows. Sunrise/Sunset (Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types) written and performed by Ghost_writing Summary: A random day of war during the clone wars. 一家人 | One Family (魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)) written and performed by dragongirlG and PandaReads Summary: Lan Qiren awaits the arrival of his family members, both old and new, on the day of the Mid-Autumn Festival. Clipped Wings [text, audio] (镇魂 | Guardian (TV 2018)) written by Mo_on_raccoon, performed by flamingwell Summary: The strange weights move along Shen Wei's back. Heart hammering in his chest, he reaches backward and cannot swallow a cry of surprise that echoes off his narrow prison. His wings. His wings are back. But Ye Zun is nowhere to be found. Zhao Yunlan isn't here either. And Shen Wei is trapped. Wolves of Washington (DC) (Teen Wolf (TV)) written by melly_diamond, performed by readbythilia Summary: It should have been over. Completed, utterly over. Bartley should be a distant memory, spoken only of under a therapist's supervision. Mexico should never be spoken of at all. Special Agent Stiles Stilinski is a shell of a man; abandoned by everyone, he goes through the motions of his daily life, waiting for the end; it has to come sooner or later, doesn't it? But before nature takes it's course, a werewolf comes to his door. Quite literally. Captain Derek Hale of the Elk Grove Police needs his help - his, Stiles' and when he tells him why, Stiles understands that closing the final chapter on that part of his life is one last thing he needs to do. Stiles and Derek return to Bartley to put it all to rest. Everything. Everything.

#podfic #fanfic #teen wolf #guardian #mo dao zu shi #star wars the clone wars #formula 1 rpf #the murderbot diaries #the untamed #the witcher #hades #flight of the heron #the transformers

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sophiagriffindor1 · 1 year

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Representative Work

Achilles Lamenting the Death of Patroclus, (1723-1798) by Gavin Hamilton. A historical work of art portraying the legendary hero Achilles and his companion, possible lover Patroclus. Gavin Hamilton; painting references the significance of Patroclus' loss after dawning Achilles' armor in the battle against the Trojans from Homer's Iliad. It depicts Patroclus' deceased lying surrounded by those in mourning, and holding him is Achilles grieving.

The painting presents importance from details like coloring, setting, placement of people, and emotions expressed. The colors sound the main focus of the scene is saturated, whereas some parts are highlighted, contrasting the muted background. There appears to be light outlining Patroclus and Achilles. The shades of contrast represent the actual drama and grief of the scene. Despite the differences in the color palette, there is clearness. Each detail of the characters and background is shown clearly by the artist. For example, the clothes features, people, and background have incredible visual detailing. It depicts Patroclus dead, lifeless, and pale, half draped over Achilles. The body language visually represents that his life has ended, The artist has purposely made him bone white, an effect to represent cold death. Achilles moaned in anguish over the loss of his friend and possible lover. He is holding Patroclus over his lap, refusing to release, and pushing onlookers away. Staring into the sky, one could speculate he is in disbelief over the tragic event. I feel that he is heartbroken that Partrolus is gone and, yet Achilles remains. The soldiers are attempting to reach out to comfort or pull him away. The women have turned their heads to each in privacy for him or in sadness. The women and men watch Achilles in mourning.

I chose this piece because of the detail and how I felt moved by it. Evident from this, the art raises themes of loss and love. I believe it represents my view on life, that actions have consequences and life is precious. I lost a friend when I made a poor judgment once that harmed them. I felt awful afterward and understood that my decision and actions were the cause. I began to value my friends and family more after the incident.

#dramacticworks

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ao3feed-hadesgame · 1 year

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Quickie

by FlaviaFulvia

“Patroclus,” Achilles said between thrusts, “you need to stop clenching.”

“No, never,” screamed Patroclus.

Achilles is about to leave with most of the Myrmidons on a lengthy raid, leaving Patroclus behind to watch the remaining men. Patroclus handles it about as well as you would expect.

Maybe a companion piece to Starstruck?

Words: 2669, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Iliad - Homer, Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Hades (Video Game 2018), The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M, Multi

Characters: Achilles (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Patroclus of Opus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)

Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus, Achilles/Patroclus/Others

Additional Tags: Some angst, Bottom Patroclus, I cannot stop writing it, No named other partners, They partied the night before, Morning Sex, sex before parting, Anal Fingering, BAMF Patoclus, they don't know how to communicate with words, mentioned poseidon, Toxic Masculinity, they are both absolute sluts in this

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/46294048

#Hades (Game)#fanfic #ao3feed #Hades

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sofiaslife67 · 2 years

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Art Post

Achilles Lamenting the Death of Patroclus, 1855 by Nikolai Ge. A historic work of art portraying the legendary hero Achilles and his companion Patroclus. Nikolai Ges'; painting references the consequence of Patroclus' dawning on Achilles' armor in the battle against the Trojans from Homer's Iliad. It depicts Patroclus' body lying on a bed surrounded by those in mourning, and over him rests Achilles weeping.

The painting presents importance from details like coloring, setting, placement of people, and emotions expressed. The fabrics are saturated and bright with vivid colors, contrasting the muted background. The shades of brown represent the actual drama and darkness of the scene. Despite the differences in the color palette, there is clarity. Each piece of furniture and character is presented clearly through the artist's detail. For example, the features of clothing, people, and articles are painted with incredible visual detailing. It shows Patroclus dead, lying on a bed, half draped with sheets. Directly over rests Achilles, wiping his tears in grief and loss of his friend and possible lover. Close are the onlookers, a woman in blue, a seated man, and a Myrmidon soldier. The woman and man watch Achilles in mourning; as the soldier covers his face hiding his tears.

The most appealing details to me, are Achilles and Patroclus. The work speaks of love and/or friendship through their intimate relationship demonstrated by position placement. Achilles is bowing over him, his body half naked, closely pressed, with arms caging Patroclus underneath him. As if his grief is so bottomless that he wishes that it wasn't reality. Care is further shown by Patroclus also being half naked. In speculation, it was done to convey longing through the desire of skinship. Achilles appears inconsolable, depicted by the distance of the others from the pair. Expressing that comfort isn't always found from others. Evident from this, the art raises themes of loss, grief, and love.

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epicstuckyficrecs · 3 years

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Weekly Recap | January 25-31 2021

One day, my Best of 2020 fic rec will come ... 🎵

Complete

Red by the1918 (A/B/O AU, Shrunkyclunks | 11K | Explicit): His fingertips were voracious now, roaming his mate—his Bucky—the sweet curves of his ass and the planes of his spine and the smooth, heated skin of his arms… and the virgin expanse of his unmarked neck. His perfectly plush lips tasted sweet and red red red red and Steve was going to pin him down and keep him there until he was full of Steve’s knot and bleeding with Steve’s bite and—Steve's POV of his rut in Compatible. Written as a companion piece to be read following Chapter 9 of Bespoke. (Part 3 of 💙 Compatible)

💙 love me with your sad eyes, drain me of my color by voxofthevoid (Winter Soldier Steve, Captain America Bucky | 13K | Explicit): God help him, he misses that firecracker kid, his bones held together with spite, and he misses the brave monster who walked into hell to pull Bucky out of it.And that’s just it, isn’t it? Steve pulled Bucky out of hell, but the stories all say it comes with a price. Steve paid with his life, his soul, and he was a ghost for seventy years and now he’s a wraith, and Bucky wants so badly to breathe him to life, but he doesn’t know how.

💙 As You Seep On In And Keep Me Down by thiccbuckybarnes/ @thiccbuckybarnesfic (Shrunkyclunks, PWP | 8K | Explicit): Bucky Barnes is a man of many names. But first and foremost, he’s an ass man. He likes his guys small, able to be bent in half when he fucks them. He likes being bigger, being in control, likes crowding little twinks up and wrecking them so thoroughly they cry.But he makes the wrong judgement when he first sees Steve in a bar; Steve’s all height, wide shoulders and muscle, clearly wouldn’t want the things that Bucky wants. It isn’t until he sees Steve shrink up from rejection, sees how pretty his cheeks look in an embarrassed flush, that he realizes that Steve is everything he wants.It’s a good thing, too, when Steve gives him a second chance because if he hadn’t, Bucky would have missed out on the meal of his life.

Brooklyn Buddies by daisymondays/ @daisymondays (Shrunkyclunks | 13K | Teen): Steve Rogers goes to Brooklyn Buddies Shelter for a dog and ends up with a boyfriend. He's not too disappointed.

Sugar Sweet, You'll be The End of me by Annerp (Shrinkyclnks | 25K | Explicit): Bucky Barnes breaks free from Hydra and begins the process of regaining his life. His mission is to bring Hydra to their knees and woo a certain blond haired blue eyed guy. In the process he learns that being Steve's sugar daddy is the dream job he never knew he wanted.

WIP

💙 Revenance by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel, SinpaiCasanova (Bladerunnerblue) (The Old Guard AU/The Song of Achilles AU | 19/? | 57K | Mature | Warning: Violence, MCD): And perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone. Or, the one where Steve and Bucky are immortal and used to be known as Achilles and Patroclus.

💙 What lies they told us by darter_blue/ @darter-blue (Mobster AU | 6/8 | 31K | Explicit): Steve Rogers might still see his ma every Sunday, but he isn’t the dutiful son. He gave up that life a long time ago. Bucky Barnes may be following in his fathers footsteps, but he wants to set a path to something more than where they’ll take him. Steve and Bucky’s lives have always intersected. There is something between them that exists, real and palpable. But they are opposite sides of a coin. Opposing families in a war for money and power. Blood and pain. And fate may bring them together, again and again, pulling them closer. But it always finds a way to rip them apart. What they need is a way to fight fate. To fight their families. To reach each other. To keep each other.

💙 Remote Access by Kalee60/ @kalee60 (Modern AU, Roommates | 3/7 | 14K | Explicit): Bucky Barnes was in trouble. More trouble than he ever thought he could get into as a grown adult. And it was caused by two singular factors that should never have become entwined.One, his god-like housemate Steve Rogers, who was unfairly handsome and the perfect specimen of man in not only looks but personality - and completely out of Bucky’s league.Two, Bucky’s obsession with a new toy he’d purchased to fill his lonely nights (and other areas).But when Steve buys a new TV, suddenly these two seemingly separate parts of Bucky’s life crash together in a spectacular and obsessive way.Bucky soon finds himself not as in control as he thought - and that’s when things start to get interesting…

💙 The Seed and the Root by the1918/ @the1918 (Shrunkyclunks, Post-EG | 2/5 | 6K | Explicit): His hands and mouth are gentle on the outside, but on the inside, Steve is burning up. He’s got everything he’s ever wanted on the bed and land beneath him, and now it’s so much at once that he’s afraid he’ll combust into white, nuclear light. (Part 3 of 💙 Song of the Rolling Earth)

#stucky #stucky fic #stucky fanfic #stucky fanfiction #stucky fic rec #weekly recap

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caffernnn · 3 years

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Omg how about this...makoharu but Patrochilles AU! from illiad (tho I'm gonna use the tsoa (the song of achilles) ver for this) with makoto as patroclus and haru as Achilles (i know the physical features don't match patroclus has dark hair and Achilles has blond hair and green eyes and looks closer prob to makoto but achilles is also kinda feminine looking??? As he was able to hide for a long time disguised as a girl)

Not to mention achilles was the son of a sea nymph (wow the water relationship yippee and lived by the sea)

Like in the tsoa book patroclus is described as this shy young boy (i mean he was exiled by his own father but that wouldn't happen to our bby mako in canon would it) then he was sent to achilles' kingdom and was all lonely and Achilles was this boy who everyone flocked to but then went to point patroclus and said "him...i choose him" imagine the playground scene from tm

Fast forward to a few years later with a bff relationship too close to have a heterosexual explanation and achilles is hailed as this prodigy (see the parallel?!?!) And patroclus known as his closest companion and they were swimming together in instances in the book

fast forward again to the war where after every raid achilles comes home and patroclus welcomes him (fuck the "okaeri" "tadaima" is strong in this one) patroclus considering himself a weak warrior becomes a healer and manages to befriend the entire army (if this isn't makoto) and achilles goes "how do you know their names?" "They're my friends" "ugh so many" also patroclus is known as the Achilles-tamer like "achilles is throwing a tantrum quick find patroclus" (very similar to "haru-chan is stripping quick mako-chan!) Rin as odysseus the sassy friend who's like "ugh i know you're gay for each other quit with the pda" and sousuke as agamemnon the asshole Achilles refuses to acknowledge (come on we know the beef between haru and sou) and kisumi as briseis who at one point in the book admitted to like patroclus and achilles got jealous over that (haru def got jealous over kisumi during that steal yo mako flashback in s2)

Gosh hiyori as hector who refuses to return helen which would def be ikuya (guys see the parallelism!!!) And let's not acknowledge the lack of paris, or maybe asahi as paris idk then agamemnon does the dick move of taking briseis from achilles due to some spat (honestly rin and kisumi could switch and let the makorinharu shippers go wild since pat, bri, and achilles hung out like a 3some anyway but more makorin instead of rinharu (in other versions the rinharu could be stronger tho since briseis was Achilles' war prize anyway but that's not the point since we're following tsoa)) and here comes the beef between sousuke and haru making its way into the AU

Achilles goes to sulk and refuses to fight hector (tho it was haru who challenged hiyori to a race in canon) odysseus went to patroclus and went "he only listens to you talk the shit out of him" (this would only work if rin was odysseus)

patroclus wanted to fight for him instead (agghh the showdown between makoto and hiyori) and well...patroclus lost and died (is it a coincidence makoto lost that race too?)

Here comes the mcd angst and achilles mourns (imagine if makoto didn't wake up from his drowning and the look of despair on haru escalated gosh imagine the grieving) the gods at the bottom of the sea heard him and he goes apeshit on hector and killed him (he did win against hiyori after all) and fought until he died bc life without pat is meaningless so similar to "it's meaningless without you" (he was really eager to follow him into the afterlife)

That's about it since the later parts arr hard to fill in (no obe would be able to fill up phyrrhus' role that demon child) and it's difficult to find roles for rei and nagisa (maybe nagisa as achilles' charioteer automedon) and maybe sasabe as chiron the centaur their teacher/no. 1 shipper and amakata as phoinix achilles' mentor but anyway all is well and that's all there is thank you for your time reading this

PS: I've been thinking about this AU for makoharu since i read the iwaoi ver of this named achilles wept but I'm not a great writer so i can only indulge myself in hcs

PPS: I'm the anon who who sent the herc and meg ask haha

Oh dang you WENT OFF, modern myth AU anon 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 so many great parallels!! I haven’t gotten around to reading TSOA yet but the few things I know about it and some of the quotes I’ve seen… WHEW. One thing I love seeing people explore in different AUs with makoharu is how their love for each other can be so intense that it often borders on impending tragedy. Their devotion to each other is beautiful until something happens that makes it mix with their lack of self-preservation to cause a huge explosion, whether that means self-sacrifice (usually Makoto) or confused, grief-stricken rampages (usually Haru). It’s this complicated but ever-present piece of their dynamic that screams “I know you would die for me, but just this once, could you live for me instead?”

Also while we’re talking about Achilles, may I suggest a makoharu take on Achilles Come Down because that song is always a bop

#bless you for this anon #loving the parallels here #don’t have much to contribute but still love to hear it #makoharu #free! au #thanks for sending!#anonymous #tsoa spoilers #long post

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gabtapia · 3 years

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Warning extra long ask lmao:

The last three chapters broke me. 😭😭😭

But the worse thing was reading first two paragraphs of ch 31 and having it go from Patroclus’s narrative to third person narrative because Patroclus is dead so he can’t tell the story anymore 🥺🥺😭

I have so much to say so i’m gonna use quotes to help:

“A prophecy,” she said. “That the best of the Myrmidons will die before two more years have passed.”

She draws down the blanket, releasing me into the air. She cups my face in her hands. “Be careful tomorrow,” she says. “Best of men. Best of the Myrmidons.” She places her fingers to my lips, stopping my objection. “It is truth,” she says. “Let it stand, for once.” Then she leads me to the side of her tent, helps me slip beneath the canvas. The last thing I feel is her hand, squeezing mine in farewell.

No. My hands flurry in the air like startled birds, trying to halt the spear’s relentless movement towards my belly. But I am weak as a baby against Hector’s strength, and my palms give way, unspooling in ribbons of red. The spearhead submerges in a sear of pain so great that my breath stops, a boil of agony that bursts over my whole stomach. My head drops back against the ground, and the last image I see is of Hector, leaning seriously over me, twisting his spear inside me as if he is stirring a pot. The last thing I think is: Achilles.

WHY??? Why does Patroclus have to be the person of the prophecy. They made it pretty obvious that it was him but my God actually reading it I-

Calm down Chiara. Say this properly.

WAIT NO THERE IS NO WAY TO SAY THS PROPERLY PARTOCLUS IS DEAD 😭 AND THE FEW PARTS WHERE ACHILLES DOESN’T KNOW HE’S DEAD YET MY GOD I JUST STARTED BAWLING IT HURT TOO MUCH

HIS GRIEF AFTER PATROCLUS DIES IS JUST SO RAW I COULD LTERALLY IMAGNINE PATROCLUS IN THE TENT AND ACHILLES CRYING OVER HIS BODY AND MY HEART-

But he cannot feel it. There is a numbness in him. The writhing field is like a gorgon’s face, turning him slowly to stone. The snakes twist and twist before him, gathering into a dark knot at the base of Troy. A king has fallen, or a prince, and they are fighting for the body. Who? He shields his eyes, but no more is revealed. Patroclus will be able to tell him.

HE SEES THE THING IN PIECES. Men, coming down the beach towards the camp. Odysseus, limping beside the other kings. Menelaus has something in his arms. A grass-stained foot hangs loose. Locks of tousled hair have slipped from the makeshift shroud. The numbness now is merciful. A last few moments of it. Then, the fall.

He snatches for his sword to slash his throat. It is only when his hand comes up empty that he remembers: he gave the sword to me. Then Antilochus is seizing his wrists, and the men are all talking. All he can see is the bloodstained cloth. With a roar he throws Antilochus from him, knocks down Menelaus. He falls on the body. The knowledge rushes up in him, choking off breath. A scream comes, tearing its way out. And then another, and another. He seizes his hair in his hands and yanks it from his head. Golden strands fall onto the bloody corpse. Patroclus, he says, Patroclus. Patroclus. Over and over until it is sound only. Somewhere Odysseus is kneeling, urging food and drink. A fierce red rage comes, and he almost kills him there. But he would have to let go of me. He cannot. He holds me so tightly I can feel the faint beat of his chest, like the wings of a moth. An echo, the last bit of spirit still tethered to my body. A torment.

I’M MAD AT BOTH OF THEM FOR BEING STUPID IDOITS FOR ACHILLES NOT LETTING HIS PRIDE GO AND FOR PATROCLUS FUCKING GETTING HIMSELF KILLED BUT I CAN’T EVEN STAY MAD AT THEM BECUASE HELL THEY ARE SO BEAUTIFUL AND THEY DIDN’T DESERVE ANY OF IT

And then Pyrrhus? I want to kill the asshole:

“When I am dead, I charge you to mingle our ashes and bury us together.”

There's is a slight pause. “Your father and his companion. Patroclus.” “And why should this man be buried beside Aristos Achaion?” The air is thick. They are all waiting to hear Menelaus’ answer. “It was your father’s wish, Prince Neoptolemus, that their ashes be placed together. We cannot bury one without the other.” Pyrrhus lifts his sharp chin. “A slave has no place in his master’s tomb. If the ashes are together, it cannot be undone, but I will not allow my father’s fame to be diminished. The monument is for him, alone.” Do not let it be so. Do not leave me here without him. The kings exchange glances. “Very well,” Agamemnon says. “It shall be as you say.” I am air and thought and can do nothing.

Pyrrhus’ hand closes on the shapeless, blowing dress of the princess Polyxena and yanks her towards the altar. “This is what my father’s soul deserves.” He will not. He dare not. As if in answer, Pyrrhus smiles. “Achilles is pleased,” he says, and tears open her throat. I can taste it still, the gush of salt and iron. It seeped into the grass where we are buried, and choked me. The dead are supposed to crave blood, but not like this. Not like this.

And then the way Achilles just becomes a cold killer after Patroclus dies reading that part felt so bad because it wasn’t Achilles anymore and i was so glad when he died. But then Patroclus didn’t get a proper bury and i freaked because why??? I thought the book might end with him not being reunited with Achilles in the underworld and i had another good cry because seriously that would be the most unfair thing. I was so, so, so happy when Thetis wrote his name.

So basically i’m not okay right now and ever time i think about them before the war happen my eyes fill with tears because they were just so happy and innocent and in love and it hurts to think of what happened during the war. I’m glad i read this book thought, but i know the pain wont go away for a while watch me punish myself by reading all the fluffy scenes 😭

@in-love-with-themoon did you finish yet? I realize i may be spoiling for you, sorry about that! 😅 tell me if your finished the book! And i will send you bunches and bunches of tissues

Sending you lots of love, hugs, ice cream, and tissues!! 💙

I swear I had to take a break after reading that book

The last 3 chapters are just pain

Tbh I was crying since they said goodbye to Chiron because Achilles told him that they were going to come back in a few days and I was like nope you are not and even Chiron knew they weren't coming back 😭😭😭

Since the prophecy said that "the best of myrmidons" I was like fuck is Patroclus and this is bad

The scene that broke me was when Patroclus said that they didn't say the words (I love you) because they would have more time to say them, like in the night when they talk about their day and I was like please tell him 😭😭😭😭😭

THE MOST PAINFUL THING IS THAT EVEN WHEN PATROCLUS KNEW HE WAS GONNA DIE, HE TRIED TO STOPPED HECTOR BECAUSE HE KNEW THAT IF HECTOR KILLED HIM, ACHILLES WOULD KILLED HECTOR AND THE ACHILLES WOULD DIE AND HE DIDN'T WANT THAT 😭😭

AND OMG I WAS SO MAD WITH THEM, WITH ACHILLES FOR BEING SO STUBBORN AND WITH PATROCLUS FOR FIGHTING EVEN WHEN HE KNEW HE DIDN'T STAND A CHANCE!!! 😭

YES I KNOW WHEN ACHILLES IS SURE THAT PATROCLUS IS GONNA COME BACK AND EVERYTHING IS GONNA BE FINE, BUT WE KNOW THAT HE IS ALREADY DEAD 😭😭😭😭

ACHILLES GRIEVE BROKE ME HOW HE DIDN'T WANT TO SEPARATE FROM THE BODY AND HOW HE JUST WANTED TO KILL HECTOR AS SOON AS POSSIBLE

AND I WAS CRYING MY EYES OUT WHEN HECTOR'S FATHER TALKED WITH ACHILLES AND TOLD HIM THAT THEY SHOULD LET THE DEAD REST, AND ONLY AFTER THAT ACHILLE AGREED TO BURN THE BODY 😭😭😭

WHEN ACHILLES DIED WITH A SMILE ON HIS FACE BECAUSE HE THOUGHT THAT FINALLY HE COULD BE REUNITED WITH PATROCLUS 😭😭😭

Don't let me get started with Pyrrhus I hate that jerk so much I was happy when thetis said he was dead!, When he was taking decisions on his father's name I was like stfu you don't even know him!!

And for real I thought they would never be reunited and that Patroclus' soul would be strand in the living world forever I was crying but then thetis appeared and for once in the whole book she wasn't a bitch!

Yes before the war they would never imagine what the fate had for them and it's so sad because they just wanted to love each other, and their love was so beautiful and I love their communication because no matter how bad the things were they always tell the truth to the other 😭😭😭

Believe me I already reread their fluffy scenes and it's never enough! 😭

I'm glad you enjoy the book too, even when it left us with a void in the heart!!

#Chia 💙#asks #the song of achilles spoilers #the song of achilles #tw caps

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johaerys-writes · 4 years

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Fandom: The Song of Achilles Pairing: Achilles/Patroclus

Chapter 6: Crystal Clear is up! A fair bit of introspection and a whole lot of pining, from Achilles’ POV :)

Read here or on AO3! Read from the start

**********

At twelve, Achilles had the world at his feet and didn’t quite know what to do with it.

He ran and swam and climbed. He practiced his spearwork, where no one could see. In the evenings, he went to the dining hall to sit with the other boys. They peered at him with glittering eyes, asked him questions, laughed at his jests. They all wanted to be like him, Mother had said; the one destined to be the greatest fighter the world had ever seen. People longed to be close to him, she would often advise, not just to befriend him, but to admire him, as one would a statue made of marble and gold; vainly hoping that the shimmering halo of his glory might touch them too, that their names would live on in the minds of gods and men like his own would.

They all adored him, to be sure. Achilles wasn’t sure they really liked him.

Then, one warm late summer day, in the palace had wandered a boy. He was small and scrawny, and Achilles had not paid him much mind- Father took in plenty of boys, boys with no wealth or a family that wanted them, or any promise of glory. Patroclus, glory of the father: that was the name he had given when asked. The day had been too warm and slow, the hours gliding by like golden sap down the pine tree trunks, and Achilles had been too sleepy to dwell on the irony.

The boy did not follow Achilles wherever he went. He did not laugh at his jokes. He didn’t watch him in awe and wonder, he didn’t ask him questions. In fact, he ignored him for the most part.

Achilles had found that odd.

The occasions when the boy would look at him were odder still. It was usually in the evenings, in the dining hall, where Achilles would see him; the boy sat alone, apart from the others, a shadow. Achilles would only catch his gaze mere seconds before it flitted away to the window, or the floor, or back to his plate, yet in those moments, those rare moments when their eyes would meet, Achilles saw something that he’d never seen before, and it was directed at him.

Anger. Bitterness. Hate, even.

It fascinated him. Try as he might, he couldn’t imagine what the cause of that heated momentary glare could be. What could have happened to a boy his age, to make him look at him so?

He’d resolved to watch him. As much as he could.

It was a game they played. A silent agreement, so natural that it was instinctual; whoever caught the other’s eye first would win. Achilles had expected to win this game, as he did all others, but he soon found himself on par with him. He was fast, but the boy was often faster, his gaze flicking away before he could catch it, slipping out of his grasp like an eel. In those moments when Achilles would finally catch his eye, his heart would flutter and his stomach would lurch just a little with the thrill of a defeat barely missed. They made him feel strange, the boy’s eyes on him.

One day, the boy disappeared.

He wasn’t in the practice yard with the others. He didn’t come to the dining hall for the afternoon meal. He must have been sick, Achilles thought, and his heart had clenched at the thought of this worthy game companion being unwell. But when he had gone to his room to look, the boy wasn’t there.

In a storage room, hidden behind some oil-carrying amphorae, Achilles had found him. Achilles had already been a little flustered, a touch annoyed that he would hide himself so. He had expected the boy to cower before him, to apologise to him; he was the prince, after all, and he had caught him out. Yet when the boy had looked up at him, and he saw that familiar flicker of annoyance in his gaze, Achilles found his own dissipating.

“Patroclus,” he’d said, and the sounds of the boy’s name filled his mouth, sweet and round like grapes. That, Achilles reflected years later, was when their friendship had started in earnest.

Patroclus had become his therapon, his loyal attendant, his companion in all things. He’d been quiet at first, withdrawn. His silence had made Achilles want to know more about him, to crack his shell and take a peek inside. He took him everywhere with him- he even let him see him train. They played games and raced and wrestled, and then Achilles would play the lyre for him and Patroclus would smile. Achilles liked it, when Patroclus smiled.

Days and nights they spent together, and they never seemed enough. Drunk in the incessant energy of their new bond, they never even noticed the time passing. They fit well together, as well as any bond-mates could. Patroclus never pretended, never hid himself from him. He would look at him, and Achilles always knew just what was hiding in their dark depths. He could see it all, no matter what it was. Annoyance, hurt, fear, worry. The heat of his suppressed anger. The flickering sparks of his joy, his ecstasy, the laughter that crinkled the corners of his eyes and wrinkled his nose. His pleasure. His pain.

His love.

Achilles had seen that, too. Sometimes, he thought it was always there, lurking just beneath each one of Patroclus’ expressions when he looked at him. He often wondered whether Patroclus could see it in him as well.

It made him feel things, the wonder in Patroclus’ gaze. Now, that it was just the two of them in Pelion, away from the palace and the shadows of his mother and his father, Patroclus’ presence was a source of ease, of peace; it reminded him of the soft lapping of waves against the shore, a constant undercurrent, a persistent rhythm at the back of his mind. It made him think of the warmth of the sun as it beat on his skin. It took him back to lazy summer afternoons, when they would lay on the shore and the sea water would lick at his ankles and his toes and the sand would stick to fingers, and seagulls would crow overhead.

Other times, it reminded him of that time, that distant, solitary time when Patroclus had leaned close; so close, that his lips had closed over his own.

Their sudden proximity had startled him; that, he remembered clearly enough. It startled him still, the way his pulse would skip when he thought of it. He hadn’t known what to make of that then, that kiss they’d shared. Achilles had fled, and he often wondered whether he had acted wisely. It was a thorn within him, the answer to that question. Achilles could always feel his mother’s gaze on him; more, the closest he was to the sea. He had almost felt her ire then; sometimes, when he looked at Patroclus, he thought he could feel her ire still.

Achilles took a deep breath, stretching his arms over his head. If he pretended, he could almost forget that his mother was, probably, just within reach. The grass was soft and warm where he lay, the sun bright and round like a golden coin as it loomed high above. He always liked the day better than the night; things were always so much clearer then, their edges crisp and pronounced. Patroclus, on the other hand, had always been a night owl, staying up with him until the moon was high up in the sky. It was for good reason that his father always called him scops. A night owl, one of those that hooted softly into the night, their distant call mingling with the trill of crickets and the night breeze. His scops, Achilles thought, and smiled to himself.

Patroclus was sitting a little way away from him, his back resting against a tree trunk. His hair was overgrown, dark curls falling over his eyes as he looked down at the piece of wood in his lap. He had already started shaping it with his sharp carving knife. Achilles watched as Patroclus’ fingers gripped the knife firmly, yet delicately, the way they smoothed over the wood. Long fingers, slender and reed-like, always careful. A healer’s hands, Chiron often called them. An artist’s hands, Achilles would think when he watched them at work, a crafter’s. Always at work, always breathing life into something new. Something beautiful.

Sometimes, as if to challenge himself, Achilles tried to look at him through his mother’s eyes. The messy curls that hung over his brow, which he often hid behind. His smile that sometimes slipped sideways, wide and crooked. The bones on his shoulders and his knees that pushed against his skin. Achilles had always found them endearing- yes, even lovely, yet he knew his mother saw him inferior in every way, unworthy of Achilles’ company. Less. Less, in every way that mattered.

A sullen anger sparked inside him at the thought. Achilles loved his mother. She had always been by his side, even when that had caused her pain, and he knew she had his best interests at heart. Yet Patroclus was his best friend. His brother. His therapon. They’d both sworn, and nobody and nothing could change that. Not even his mother.

Achilles stubbornly brushing his anger away as he let his gaze glide over Patroclus’ features, his delicate hands, his knees that were carefully folded underneath him. Noticing his gaze, Patroclus’ eyes flicked up, meeting his. His cheeks flushed just a little, as they usually did of late. Achilles liked it, when Patroclus blushed. He wasn’t sure what caused it, but he liked the way his skin warmed, the way his lips curled upwards. It gave him a strange sort of light, a radiance that seemed to come from within and to be meant just for him.

Achilles stuck his tongue out at him, and Patroclus laughed. Achilles grinned. He liked the sound of his laugh. “What are you making?” he asked him.

Patroclus held it up. The piece of wood had already started taking shape, and Achilles could just make out the slender neck of the doe curling as it tilted its head to the side.

“It’s beautiful,” Achilles said, and meant it. Patroclus blushed even more.

“I’m not finished with it yet,” he replied timidly, bringing it back down. “I thought- well, I thought I’d make you something.”

“What for?”

Patroclus shrugged. A flash of white teeth over his flushed bottom lip when he bit it. “No reason.” He looked back down, his knife starting to carve deep lines in the wood once more, when it suddenly jerked in his hold. Patroclus hissed as the knife dug into his finger. Blood welled from the wound, bright red drops that marred the smooth wood in his hands.

Achilles was on his feet in an instant, coming to his side. Patroclus was watching the blood on his hands, transfixed, mouth twisted in a pained grimace. Achilles took Patroclus’ hand in his own and, before he could stop to think, brought his wounded finger to his lips.

Patroclus shivered, his hand going rigid in his hold. “Achilles…” he started, but whatever he was about to say drifted away with the passing breeze.

The taste of blood, sharp and metallic, coated Achilles’ tongue, and something sparked in him. It was hot and wild, a rushing river that he could barely rein in.

A shaky exhale left Patroclus’ mouth. Achilles looked up at him, at his flushed cheeks and his eyes, wide and liquid in the morning light, peering straight at him. He gazed at his lips, slightly parted, glistening. It took everything within him not to lean forward, to close the distance between them, to press him up against the tree behind him and kiss him.

Gods and demons, how he wanted to kiss him.

He hastily slid his lips off Patroclus’s finger, tore his gaze away. His pulse thundered in his ears. The air between them seemed to ripple with something he couldn’t quite explain. Something dangerous, tight and tense, ready to snap.

Achilles did his best to ignore it.

“It needs to be cleaned and bound,” he said, examining the wound. He sat down, taking Patroclus and his hand with him. The fabric of his own tunic hissed and snapped when Achilles pulled at it.

“Achilles!” Patroclus gasped, watching as he tore a strip of cloth free and started wrapping it around his finger. “Your tunic-”

“I have others.” Achilles didn’t look up at him as he worked, avoiding his eyes, watching the blood seeping through the soft white fabric instead. Patroclus’ fingers were small and slender in his hold, bony, his fingertips cold against Achilles’. Patroclus hands were always colder than his own. After he was done, he found himself wishing he could hold them just a while longer, just to warm them. Just to feel them pressing against his palm, to memorise their shape.

It was a dangerous line Achilles walked. He could see it then, crystal clear. He wanted Patroclus. Not as a friend, not as a brother or a loyal companion. He wanted him. Like a man wanted another man.

He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to hold him. To have him, for his own.

The thought thrilled as much as it scared him. What would his mother do, if she knew what crossed Achilles’ mind? Would she be angry with him? Would she be angry with Patroclus? Would she, perhaps in her fury, try to hurt him?

His anger swelled again, and something else, like despair, that curled over him in a wave and gripped him. He did not like it; it made him feel like there were stones tied to his feet, pulling him down. He released Patroclus’ hand, sitting back on his heels. “When Chiron comes back, ask him for his healing poultice,” he muttered, and turned from him. “It shouldn’t get infected.”

Achilles stood up slowly and, as he had done by that quiet beach all those years before, he walked away.

#the song of achilles #tsoa #patrochilles #achilles/patroclus #achilles #patroclus #tsoa fanfic #friends to lovers #childhood friends to lovers #high-flying birds #johaerys writes

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alexsfictionaddiction · 4 years

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12 Gay Books Everyone Should Read This Pride Month

Happy Pride Month everyone! This time of year usually fills me with so much joy but it feels a bit flat and dark right now. It’s hard to imagine how anything can be happy but I’m trying my best to stay positive and what better way than to indulge in some gay realness? Men who love men are definitely the most represented queer group in books but here are some of my favourites beyond the big names that I’m sure you’ll have heard of and read. I will be bringing you more of these recommendation posts for as many LGBTQ+ groups as I possibly can, so stay tuned for those over the coming days! -Love, Alex x

1. Aristotle and Dante Discover The Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz.

When angsty Ari meets nerdy Dante, they seem unlikely friends but they soon discover that they can both offer each other something truly special. It’s written in such a beautiful lyrical style and takes you on a heart-rending journey. Grab the tissues and the chocolate!

2. The Black Flamingo by Dean Atta.

As a mixed-race gay teen, Michael struggles to know and love who he really is until he discovers drag at university. I’ve already recommended this inspirational, uplifting book multiple times but there has never been a better time to pick up this wonderful, poetic creation.

3. Call Me By Your Name by André Aciman.

Set in the early 1980s on the Italian Riviera, 17-year-old Elio meets medical student Oliver at his parents’ villa and an intense whirlwind romance unfolds that will change both of them forever. It’s an all-consuming, emotionally charged literary novel that explores the search for intimacy, ardent friendship and self-discovery.

4. Boy Meets Boy by David Levithan.

When Paul meets Noah, he is determined to make it work amidst his struggles to hold on to his childhood friends and an ex who seems to be sniffing around again. This fluffy little YA novel has a whole cast of LGBTQ+ characters who you’ll fall in love with.

5. Less by Andrew Sean Greer.

Arthur Less is a failing writer who has just received an invitation to this love of his life’s wedding but goes on a literary tour around the world instead. Less is the perfect satirical companion for a madcap jaunt across the globe, taking in some incredible places and topping it off with a reflection on the beauty of life and acceptance.

6. The Best At It by Maulik Pancholy.

Rahul is very nervous about attending middle school but under his grandfather’s advice, he becomes determined to be the best at something -whatever that is. This is a sweet, funny middle grade book about a young, gay, Indian-American boy finding out who he is and gaining the courage to be his true self.

7. Black Leopard, Red Wolf by Marlon James.

Tracker is an openly gay hunter, tasked with finding a missing boy in a reimagined, ancient Africa. Black Leopard, Red Wolf is the first in a bloody, gritty, epic fantasy series, glittering with mythology and rife with sexual tension that is not for the faint-hearted.

8. Heartstopper by Alice Oseman.

When recently outed Charlie starts talking to rugby player Nick, he doesn’t think there’s a chance of their friendship becoming anything more but good things come to those who wait. Gorgeously illustrated, the Heartstopper comic series follows a love story between two boys who you’ll immediately ship.

9. The Gravity Of Us by Phil Stamper.

Social media star Cal moves to Houston when his dad is recruited for a new NASA space mission. It’s there tha Cal meets Leon, romance ensues and dark secrets unravel. Their relationship happens very fast but it is a cute nerdy YA romance with a wonderful discussion on mental health and plenty of space facts!

10. The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller.

When young prince Patroclus is befriended by warrior prince and demi-god Achilles, an illicit powerful love ignites and carries them through many kinds of epic battles. This retelling of the Trojan War offers a new romantic focus that will break your heart into tiny pieces.

11. Wranglestone by Darren Charlton.

Living in a small community haunted by the Dead, Peter is banished to the outskirts where he starts spending more time with Cooper, the rancher he has always admired. Wranglestone is a pulse-racing, zombie-infested horror that has so much heart in it.

12. Camp by L. C. Rosen.

This summer, Randy has pulled out all the stops to get together with his long-term crush Hudson, including a complete image change. Set in Camp Outland, a summer camp for queer teens, this warm YA rom-com is packed-full of LGBTQ+ characters, taking down toxic masculinity and boosting sex positivity.

#gay books #pride month #lgbtq #book recommendations #books #bookworm

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cringelias · 4 years

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What’s your favorite line/scene/etc from hamlet? Who’s your favorite character? Info dump on me

OHHHH MY GOD THIS ASK IS LIKE TRUE TRUE LOVE!!!! SEEING THIS IN MY INBOX MADE ME WHJDDSGKS i love u so much....thank you.... um sorry this is so long <3 you said info dump this is literally tip of the iceberg

my favourite scene from hamlet is SOO.... its the ending when hamlet is dying in horatios arms just because...my god these bitches gay. hamlet for real says THIS - “Of thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain to tell my story.” AND PEOPLE SAY THEYRE GOOD FRIENDS.....he’s like if you ever held me in ur heart IF YOU EVER LOVED ME THEN LIVE

horatio was SO overcome by his dying that he wanted to drink the poisoned alcohol and ??? NEED I POINT OUT THE ROMEO AND JULIET PARALLELS? they are RIGHT THERE..... and horatio referring to him by thou, the informality and implied intimacy....and horatio saying goodnight sweet prince, SWEET!!!! LORD FARQUAAD POINTS GAY!!! its just so.... that it comes after genuinely everyone dying and hamlet being VERY fucking gung-ho and shouty, and yet as he dies horatio calls him sweet prince.... i HATE to say the tender buzzword but ?!??!?!

like i see their dynamic genuinely as. hamlet went to university WAS ABLE TO BE FREE AND HIMSELF... he has to come back to his shitty fucking hometown where he hates everyone and the only person he can actually be himself around is horatio. LOVE........

my favourite character is hamlet but also i hate him but also i love him <3 he is a misogynistic piece of shit but. doomed to love boy king characters man....like obviously i think that ophelia deserves the world and UURHRGHG we hate his pussy in the get thee to a nunnery scene because honestly he’s just having another bitter revelation about himself and he’s using ophelia as like a means to extrapolate on it because really what he’s saying is ‘i wish i wasn’t alive/i wish i hadn’t been born’ AS HE DOES but he just says ‘lol i never loved you and also how could you even THINK of having children and bringing them into this world fucked up if true’ which is SOOO.....WRINGS HIS NECK WITH MY HANDS

also. it is not a big point but like hamlets references to alexander the great make me think SOOO much, because everyone takes it just as like, he’s saying that if someone so powerful could die and become nothing, how could hamlet ever even try blah blah blah contemplating death

but its like alexander the great.....famously homoerotic....his most trusted companion hephaestion....compared himself frequently to achilles and patroclus and anyway what im saying is it is all connected <3 all loops around <3

#i blacked out and then this ask was answered <3 #SORRY THIS IS SOOO LONG i stop myself like a cartoon character #muffled yelling through a hand over my mouth real #bas talks #Anonymous

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abigailzimmer · 3 years

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Favorite Reads of 2020

In this year of slowness, thank god for books to make the world a little larger again. I read several classics for the first time—Shelley’s Frankenstein and Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring and Bernadette Mayer’s Midwinter Day—all of which felt important to return to the source material, to see how these books shaped those that came after them. And I delved into new books from favorite authors whose words I will always seek out—like Kelly Schirmann’s The New World and Heather Christle’s The Crying Book—and I branched out into mystery and romance books because they kept pages turning and tidied everything up so neatly at the end, which if not my usual fare, was sorely needed in this strange year. But since I do love a list, here are the books that sung to me / inspired me / shaped me:

1. Exquisitely told and inventive in form, Women Talking by Miriam Toews centers on a group of Mennonite women in South America who discover they're being drugged and raped during the night by the men in their community. While the men are away, the women meet to decide whether they will stay and forgive their attackers, as their community’s religious leaders ask them to, or leave the colony and start anew. Their conversation over the course of two days questions the role of women, what freedom and forgiveness really mean, how to fulfill one’s calling as a woman, mother, and believer, whether one must choose one thing over another, and whether staying or leaving carries the greater risk. It’s a thoughtful and creative approach to hard questions and the complicated reasons why there’s never a right answer.

2. Ilya Kaminsky's collection, Dancing in Odessa, was one of the first books of contemporary poetry I ever read, lent to me by a friend in college, and I remember being stunned at what poetry could be and do. Deaf Republic stuns in the same way. The poems are incredibly cinematic, telling the story of an occupied town and its people and a couple who fall in love. When a young, deaf boy is shot by the soldiers, the entire town pretends deafness in rebellion, finding excuses to not understand the soldiers. They bear witness to the boy’s death and honor his life. Though a fictional town, the call to political action, to really see those who are being oppressed and stand for justice with them, is resonant for any time and place. Plus, Ilya writes the most beautiful love poems.

3. Another cinematically-inclined poetry book is GennaRose Nethercott’s The Lumberjack’s Dove. In this long poem/myth/fable, a lumberjack accidentally cuts off his hand, which turns into a dove, and then a story parts ways. The lumberjack is not just a lumberjack and the hand-turned-dove is not just a hand-turned-dove, and the story visits both an operating room and a witch, and the story, of course, is one you've heard before and one that brings surprise and wonder to the telling. I simply adored it.

"Living creatures believe they own something as soon as they love it. They refuse to believe otherwise, no matter how many times a beloved vanishes."

4. I fell in love—hard—with The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller and her exquisite, queer love story between Achilles and Patroclus. Miller’s writing is wonderful and after reading her novel Circe as well—another fantastic retelling of Greek myths—I spent the remainder of the year searching for a novel that compared.

5. Some books meet you in the right moment. The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating by Elisabeth Tova Bailey is a slow and attentive book on small things, which in 2020’s period of waiting and uprootedness was a gift. Due to chronic illness, Bailey finds herself confined to a bed with little to do. Her friend brings her a potted plant and a snail whose pace of life, matching her own, becomes a comfort and lessons her loneliness. As she watches, she learns intimately the snail's eating and sleeping habits, its daily adventures, and the conditions it best thrives in. Later she delves into the literature and science of gastropods and weaves her notes in with her own observations and stories of the snail. Her writing is light and funny and holds such tenderness for this very small creature.

"In the History of Animals, Aristotle noted that snail teeth are 'sharp, and small, and delicate.' My snail possessed around 2,640 teeth, so I'd add the word plentiful to Aristotle's description....With only thirty-two adult teeth, which had to last the rest of my life, I found myself experiencing tooth envy toward my gastropod companion. It seemed far more sensible to belong to a species that had evolved natural tooth replacement than to belong to one that had developed the dental profession. Nonetheless, dental appointments were one of my favorite adventures, as I could count on being recumbent. I could see myself settling into the dental chair, opening my mouth for my dentist, and surprising him with a human-sized radula."

6. Insecurity System by Sara Wainscott was one of my favorite books published in 2020. The poems in it make up four crowns—a series of sonnets in which the last line of each poem becomes the first line (or an echo of it) of the next. The playfulness of the form as well as the topics give the book an energy: Sara muses on time travel, levitation, memory, flowers ("people who read poems know a rose / is how the poet drags in genitalia"), motherhood, Mars, and mythical transformations (children tell their mothers they have turned to seals “and it is true”). Sara is funny and wry, and yet she also captures some difficult emotions of grief and depression, a struggle with complacency amid daily obligations “Sentences become drawn out affairs / but I am doing what I can / to answer one word each day.” The poems move from the mundane to a hard feeling and then onward to wonder and a bit of the fantastical, which I guess is just how life goes—I love how these emotions are all rolled together and always shifting.

7. Asiya Wadud’s powerful long poem Syncope is one I’ve returned to often throughout the year. She tells the story of 72 refugees who fled Tripoli in an inflatable boat in 2011 and were stranded for 14 days, despite the presence of 38 maritime vessels who could have rescued them, but didn’t. Instead, only 11 passengers survived. Syncope is both an indictment against those who did not act and a eulogy for the dead, returning humanity to people who were deemed not worth saving but who were “luminous in that / we were each born under the / fabled light of some star.”

“We began as 72 ascendants by that I mean we were a collective many each bound for greatness merely in the fact that we were each still living”

8. Eula Biss’s Having and Being Had is a thoughtful and exploratory conversation about capitalism and its effects on what we do and how we think. In a series of short vignettes, Eula picks apart what consumption, work, accounting, and investment mean on a personal and everyday level (albeit a white, middle class level). Who defines value among boys trading Pokemon cards and how did Monopoly's origins in economic injustice shift to pride in bankrupting players and if one of Eula's favorite things about being a new house owner is easy access to a laundry machine, is her house merely a $400,000 container for one washer and dryer? Her essays bounce from work that is valued, unseen or shamed; the perceptions and realities of being poor or rich; our approach to gift-giving and art-making and pleasure—weaving together research, observations, and conversations with friends.

9. In Grief Sequence, poet Prageeta Sharma’s grieves the loss of her husband in a kind of journal, tracing the memories of his diagnosis, the hard and normal days, the days before diagnosis, and the days after he is gone during which she tries to make sense of her new reality: “How gauche it is to be in this body being unseen by you now,” she writes. “You are not you anymore and I am trying to understand how a human with feelings has disappeared.” Her writing is excellent but it is hard to sit with and next to her pain, and it makes me wonder: when does one read such a book? When you’ve also lost a beloved to cancer? To be in conversation with someone who has, with Prageeta? Do you read for the sake of the living or to honor a body who was once here? Prageeta writes, “Poetry and grief are the same: you are taught to care about it when it happens to you.” I don’t know who to recommend this book to, but it spoke to me, and I’m glad she wrote it, as a monument, of sorts, to a specific togetherness and to a person.

10. The Lives of the Monster Dogs by Kirsten Bakis is a strange and sweet book about a race of genetically-engineered dogs, created initially to be soldiers, who move to New York in the ‘90s while still holding onto the customs and dress of nineteenth-century Prussia, which is to say: I don't know if I ever would have picked this book up had a friend not recommended it. Told through news clippings, letters, journal entries, an opera(!), and the first-person account of a human who befriends them, their story has echoes of Frankenstein as the monster dogs reflect on their creator and what it is to be human, to have purpose and hope, to wrestle with a clouded past and an uncertain future. "It's a terrible thing to be a dog and know it," writes one monster dog scholar after some of the dogs begin to revert back to their primal state. I loved the varied forms, the piecing together of the dog’s history, and the surreal mark they left in the book’s world and my world.

For more books throughout the year, follow along on Instagram at book.wreck.

#books #2020books #endofyearlists #favorite books

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