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Overview
The war between the Greeks and the Trojans has reached a fever pitch. Offended by Agamemnon, the great Greek warrior Achilles is in his tent, refusing to fight. But then Trojan prince Hector slaughters Achilles’s intimate friend Patroclus. Willing or not, Achilles must take revenge for his friend’s death, even if it will result in his own.
The Anger of Achilles is a novelized interpretation of Homer’s Iliad, told by noted poet, classicist, and historical novelist Robert Graves. In this innovative take on the classic tale, Achilles comes to life in all his vivid rage, bravery, passion, and lust for battle. Combining his expertise in ancient Greek warfare and culture with a famed talent for compelling storytelling, Graves is the ideal translator to bring this ancient epic of war to a modern audience.
This edition includes a compelling introduction by the author, who argues that Homer’s Iliad is best understood as a satire, closer in spirit to the works of Cervantes than those of Milton.
“The translation is lucid and concise, the work of a scholar of some originality.” —Kirkus Reviews
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780795337079 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | RosettaBooks |
| Publication date: | 09/01/2018 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 383 |
| Sales rank: | 212,749 |
| File size: | 2 MB |
About the Author
Graves served in combat in World War I and was gravely wounded at the Battle of the Somme. Following his recovery, he wrote several works of war poetry as well as a memoir of his time in combat, entitled Goodbye to All That. In 1934, Robert Graves was awarded the James Tait Black Memorial Prize for his historical novels dealing with the Roman Emperor Claudius.
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
Book One: The Quarrel
INVOCATION OF THE MUSE
Sing, MOUNTAIN GODDESS, sing through me That anger which most ruinously Inflamed Achilles, Peleus' son,
And which, before the tale was done,
Had glutted Hell with champions — bold,
Stern spirits by the thousandfold;
Ravens and dogs their corpses ate.
For thus did ZEUS, who watched their fate,
See his resolve, first taken when Proud Agamemnon, King of men,
An insult on Achilles cast,
Achieve accomplishment at last.
You wish to know which of the gods originated the quarrel between these Greek princes, and how this happened? I can tell you: it was Phoebus Apollo, the son of Almighty Zeus and Leto the Fair-Haired, who sent a fearful pestilence among the Greeks, by way of punishing Agamemnon, their High King. The trouble began with Agamemnon's insult of Apollo's priest Chryses, when he came to the Greek camp before Troy, armed with the Archer-god's sacred woollen headband bound on a golden wand. He was offering a remarkably high ransom for his daughter Chryseis, whom the Greeks held as a prisoner of war.
In an address to the entire army, but especially their two leaders, Agamemnon and his brother Menelaus, Chryses said: 'Royal sons of Atreus, and all you other distinguished warriors! I sincerely pray that the Olympians will permit you to sack King Priam's citadel yonder, and to sail safe home: but only if you honour Zeus' son Apollo, whom I serve, by setting my daughter free.'
The men uttered a generous roar of approval, yet Agamemnon sent Chryses about his business. 'Let me catch you here again, old man,' he shouted, 'among these ships of war, either now or later, and no wand nor priestly headband will protect you! Understand this: I shall never release Chryseis. She must spend her life as a royal concubine and weaver of tapestries in my palace at distant Argos. Begone, and not another word, or you can expect the worst!'
The venerable Chryses, scared into obedience, walked silently away beside the rough sea, until he found himself alone. He then offered a prayer to Apollo:
'God with the bow of silver,
You that take your stand At Chryse and holy Cilia,
Protector of our land,
'Great Lord of Mice, whose sceptre Holds Tenedos in fee:
Listen to my petition,
Consider well my plea!
'If ever I built a temple Agreeable to your eyes,
Or cut from goats or bullocks The fat about their thighs,
'To burn as a costly offering At KING APOLLO'S shrine:
Let the Greeks pay with your arrows These burning tears of mine!'
Phoebus Apollo heard Chryses' prayer, and his face grew darker than night. Shouldering the silver bow, he hurried down from Olympus. The arrows rattled in their quiver, as he alighted at some distance from the ships, and his bow clanged dreadfully when he let fly. His first victims were mules and hounds; next, he shot their masters, whose pyres were presently seen burning everywhere. For nine days his lethal arrows riddled the Greeks, and on the tenth, inspired by the White-Armed Goddess Hera, who felt compassion for her dying wards, Achilles the Swift- Footed called a General Assembly.
As soon as it met, Achilles stood up and addressed Agamemnon: 'Royal son of Atreus, I am convinced that we shall be driven from the camp — those of us who survive — by this combination of pestilence with war, if we do not at once ask some prophet or priest, or even an interpreter of dreams — dreams, too, are sent by Zeus — the reason for Phoebus Apollo's anger. Could we have failed to keep a vow, or omitted a hundred-beast sacrifice due to him? If so, the odour of prime lambs and goats roasting on his altars should placate him, and thus end the pestilence.'
When Achilles sat down, Calchas, son of Thestor, rose: an expert at revealing the past, present and future — in fact, the best prophet alive. It was Calchas who had guided the Greek fleet to Troy with the divinatory knowledge bestowed on him by Apollo, and his answer could not have been a more proper one.
'Achilles, Favourite of Zeus, you ask me to account for the anger of Apollo, the god who kills from afar. But since my revelation must displease our commander-in-chief, I shall withhold it, unless you solemnly swear to protect me afterwards, both in word and deed. A king, as everyone knows, is the more formidable the less powerful his offender: and though he may swallow his anger for one day, resentment will gnaw at him until he has exacted vengeance. So, before I speak, pray decide whether you can protect me.'
Achilles rose again. 'Do not shrink,' he said, 'from making this revelation! I swear by Zeus' son Apollo — your loyalty to whom assures the truth of all prophecies you utter in his name — that, while I yet live and breathe, no member of this expedition will dare lay violent hands on you: not even Agamemnon himself, though he ranks highest among us.'
Thus encouraged, Calchas spoke freely. 'What has caused Apollo's anger is neither the breach of a vow nor the omission of a hundred-beast sacrifice; but the insult offered his priest Chryses by the High King, in declining a ransom for Chryseis. Though Apollo has avenged this insult on us all, our punishment still remains incomplete. He will not rid the camp of pestilence before we have restored the girl to her father, without demanding ransom or other payment, and have also burned a hundred victims at his shrine on Chryse. This way lies our sole hope of placating him.'
Next Agamemnon himself sprang up, in such a rage that fire seemed to flash from his eyes. Throwing Calchas an ugly look, he cried: 'Evil-minded prophet, you love disaster, and never reveal anything pleasant! Your latest act of spite is the most improbable story that Apollo has punished us Greeks because I prefer keeping Chryseis as my bed-fellow to accepting a ransom. Let me be blunt: I consider her far more attractive than my wife Clytaemnestra, alike in face, figure, intelligence and skill. Nevertheless, I am prepared to surrender Chryseis, if needs must, rather than watch the entire army melt away. My one stipulation is that these princes here assembled will immediately compensate me for her loss. It would be disgraceful were I to find myself the sole Greek without a prize of honour — and everyone can see how valuable a one I stand to lose.'
Achilles replied: 'Son of Atreus, you are the greediest man in the Assembly, as well as the noblest-born! Why should these princes give you a prize of honour? They have no common stock of booty upon which to draw. What we took from captured cities has already been distributed; and it would not be decent were a particular award withdrawn and made over to you. Send back the girl, as Apollo demands, and later, if Zeus lets us sack some other Trojan fortress, we will vote you three or four times her value.'
'Do not argue with me, Achilles!' shouted Agamemnon. 'I refuse to be bullied. So I must surrender Chryseis, and expect no compensation — is that it? You, I suppose, are to keep your prize of honour and leave me chafing empty-handed? No, indeed! If the generous Greeks offer me some fair substitute, well and good. If not, I will choose my own prize of honour, and seize it moreover with my own hands, either from you or from Great Ajax, son of Telamon, or from King Odysseus the Crafty; and the man I rob shall have good reason to feel vexed. However, we can settle this in due course. We must now pick a crew for one of our galleys, put aboard a hundred victims and the lovely Chryseis, appoint some Councillor as captain — Great Ajax, or King Idomeneus, or King Odysseus, or yourself, Prince Achilles — who will sail down to Chryse and there placate Apollo the Archer.'
Achilles scowled at Agamemnon. 'Shameless schemer!' he cried. 'How can any Greek patiently obey your orders, whether to go off on a voyage, or to stay and fight? I did not join the expedition because the Trojans harmed me: they never took my cattle or horses, nor foraged through my cornfields in fertile, healthy Phthia, where I live. Ranges of misty mountains and vast stretches of echoing sea separate that land from this. Though no vassal of yours, I brought my men here as a favour, when asked to punish the Trojans for the wrong they did your brother Menelaus. Dog-faced wretch, you not only forget how much gratitude I deserve, but threaten to steal the prize with which the Greeks rewarded my exertions! At what division of booty after the sack of a populous city did I ever get a share even approaching yours in value, though I led the assault in person? I must always return exhausted to my ship, content with some hard-won trifle. Very well; because I have no intention of humiliating myself any longer by this thankless struggle to fill your coffers, I shall sail home to Phthia.'
'Desert us by all means,' answered Agamemnon, 'if that is your pleasure. I shall not ask you to stay. Others will stay who hold me in respect, especially Omniscient Zeus; and of all his royal foster-children, you are the one whom I most detest — you, with your endless pursuit of quarrels, wars, battles! Unusual strength is a gift from Heaven, rather than of man's making. Go, and welcome: launch your flotilla, play the petty king among the Myrmidons of Phthia! Be as angry as you wish; it means nothing to me. Yet, let me inform you that, since Apollo insists on robbing me of Chryseis, my own ship and crew will carry her back; and that I shall then visit your hut and compensate myself with your prize of honour, the beautiful Briseis. That will teach you which of us two is the greater personage and, at the same time, warn your comrades not to dispute with me on equal terms.'
These words struck Achilles to the heart, but he could not decide whether he should snatch the sharp sword from his thigh, burst through the ranks, and kill Agamemnon; or whether it would be wiser to repress his anger. As he stood in doubt, slowly drawing the sword out of its scabbard, Hera, who cared for both contestants, hurriedly sent her step-daughter, Owl-Eyed Athene, to step behind Achilles and catch him by his yellow hair. Turning about in surprise, he recognized the goddess' fierce eyes, though she was invisible to everyone else, and addressed her impatiently: 'What are you doing here, Pallas Athene, daughter of Zeus? Have you come to witness King Agamemnon's insolence? Then understand that, at any moment now, it may cost him his life.'
Athene answered: 'No, I am sent to curb your rage. You should listen to me, as a messenger of Hera the White-Armed, who loves both you and Agamemnon. Leave that sword-hilt alone! By all means, give him a tongue-lashing and tell him what punishment he must expect; but abstain from violence. For I promise that, one day soon, your wounded pride will be solaced with a prize three times more valuable than this slave. Now, prove that you trust Hera and myself by showing decent restraint.'
'Goddess,' said Achilles, 'I am indeed enraged, but it is always wise to listen when you speak, since the gods bless obedience.' So saying, he loosened his grip on the silver-hilted sword; and Athene, having made sure that he thrust it back into its scabbard, at once rejoined her fellow-deities in the Palace of Zeus on Mount Olympus.
Still furious, Achilles continued his tirade. 'Drunkard, with the face of a dog and the heart of a deer! When do you arm for a pitched battle at the head of your men, or join in setting an ambush for Trojans, as other Greek leaders do? You would rather die than make such an attempt, yet are capable of stealing a prize of honour from a brave man who challenges your pretensions. Devourer of your own people! Such grasping tyranny has left them spiritless; else you would never dare insult so many of my comrades. But I, at least, will say my say and confirm it with a solemn vow.'
Then Achilles took the following vow, on the gold-studded wand which gave him the right of uninterrupted speech:
'By this dry wand, no more to sprout Or put green twigs and foliage out Since once the hatchet, swinging free,
Cross-chopped it from a mountain tree,
Then trimmed away both leaves and bark —
By this same wand, which men who mark Ancient traditions praised by ZEUS Have set to honourable use In ruling their debates: I vow That all you Greeks assembled now Before me — mark these words! — one day Shall miss Achilles in the fray And long for him, finding your chief Incapable (despite all grief)
To save from Hector's murdering sword Whole regiments; then at last, my lord,
Your anger inwards you shall turn,
Cursing the folly that dared spurn Him who indignantly here speaks:
The best and bravest of all Greeks!'
So saying, Achilles dashed the wand to the ground, and sat down, while Agamemnon raged furiously in reply.
Nestor rose to his feet, old King Nestor of Pylus; and though he had outlived two whole generations of his subjects, and was ruling over a third, he addressed the Assembly with honeyed eloquence, in clear, pleasant, gentle tones. 'Alas,' he cried, 'Greece is gravely threatened by this dispute! King Priam, his sons, and all Troy would rejoice to hear of a breach between the two champions who always take the lead in planning and fighting our campaign. Pray listen to me, both of you, because your combined ages do not add up to mine, and because, when long ago I harangued men even better than yourselves, they never disregarded my advice. In my long life I have seen none to equal King Peirithous, or Dryas (a true shepherd of his people), or Caeneus, or Exadius, or wonderful Polyphemus. They were the toughest warriors that ever walked this earth and chose to engage enemies worthy of their mettle — the wild, cave- dwelling mountaineers — whom they destroyed without trace. These princes once summoned me from distant Pylus to fight beside them — nobody now alive could have resisted such heroes — and, what is more, I joined in their councils and they applauded my opinions. I therefore advise you princes to do the same. My lord Agamemnon, despite the grandeur of your rank, I charge you: keep your hands off the girl whom the Greeks awarded Achilles as his prize of honour! And my lord Achilles, I charge you: respect the dignity of a sceptre-bearing High King, Zeus' representative on earth I You are very strong, I know, and your mother was the Silver-Footed Goddess Thetis; but Agamemnon ranks higher than you, since more vassals owe him allegiance ... Lastly, my lord King, I beg you, as a personal favour: let your anger cool! The entire army sees in Achilles its surest bulwark against the hazards of war.'
Agamemnon answered: 'What you have said is true enough, venerable Nestor. But this fellow wants to be treated as if he were Commander-in-Chief, High King, and President of the Council: an ambition which, I think, few members of this Assembly will support. Granted that the gods made him a fighter, have they also sanctioned him to revile me in such impudent language?'
Achilles interrupted. 'That is exactly what they have done! If I stayed silent, everyone would call me a coward and accuse me of always yielding to your demands. Trample on whom you please, but not on Achilles, son of Peleus, for his engagement is at an end. And pay attention when I declare that, though I will use no violence against you or your servants in the matter of Briseis — the prize of honour awarded me and now taken back — an attempt to impress me with your power by touching any other possession of mine would be dangerous! Visit my ship in that mood, and royal blood will stain my spear!'
The violent debate ended on this note, and the Assembly dispersed. Achilles, accompanied by his friend Patroclus, son of Menoetius, and the rest of his staff, walked towards the line of huts behind his flotilla.
Meanwhile, Agamemnon had a fast galley launched, picked a crew of twenty oarsmen, put aboard the required victims, and sent Chryseis home under the charge of Odysseus, his choice for captain. As soon as the galley glided away, Agamemnon ordered a general purification. The whole army cleaned out the camp and, after throwing all its filth and rubbish into the sea, sacrificed oxen and goats to Apollo, a hundred at a time, on altars raised beside the salt waves. What a pleasant odour of roast flesh soared billowing up to Heaven on the smoke!
These pious acts did not, however, prevent Agamemnon from remembering his threats. He told the heralds Talthybius and Eurybates: 'Go to Achilles' hut and fetch me the beautiful Briseis! If he offers resistance, I shall go myself with an escort and take her by force, which will hurt his pride even more.'
Agamemnon's instructions being stern and explicit, Talthybius and Eurybates went through the camp, most unwillingly, until they reached the Myrmidons' lines. Prince Achilles, seated in his compound, gave them no sign; so they kept silence, afraid to utter a word. At last, guessing their errand, he said: 'Welcome, heralds! Since your task is to convey messages from Zeus, and from his royal representatives, step forward, and be assured that I do not blame you but only the High King, who has ordered you to steal my slave-girl Briseis.'
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "The Anger of Achilles"
by .
Copyright © 1987 Beryl Graves.
Excerpted by permission of RosettaBooks.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
INTRODUCTION,
BOOK ONE: The Quarrel,
BOOK TWO: The False Dream: also 'Catalogue of Ships',
BOOK THREE: Paris Duels with Menelaus,
BOOK FOUR: Agamemnon Inspects His Army,
BOOK FIVE: Diomedes' Day of Glory,
BOOK SIX: Hector and Andromache,
BOOK SEVEN: Hector Duels with Great Ajax,
BOOK EIGHT: An Indecisive Battle,
BOOK NINE: A Deputation to Achilles,
BOOK TEN: The Dolon Incident,
BOOK ELEVEN: Agamemnon's Day of Glory,
BOOK TWELVE: The Trojans Attack the Greek Camp,
BOOK THIRTEEN: The Greek Defences Are Breached,
BOOK FOURTEEN: Hera Outwits Zeus,
BOOK FIFTEEN: The Greeks Rally,
BOOK SIXTEEN: Hector Kills Patroclus,
BOOK SEVENTEEN: Menelaus' Day of Glory,
BOOK EIGHTEEN: Hephaestus Forges Arms,
BOOK NINETEEN: The Reconciliation,
BOOK TWENTY: God Fights God,
BOOK TWENTY-ONE: Achilles at the Ford,
BOOK TWENTY-TWO: Death of Hector,
BOOK TWENTY-THREE: Funeral Games for Patroclus,
BOOK TWENTY-FOUR: The Trojans Bury Hector,