Do not let what you gained this day be so easily lost.
PAGES: 284 (Ebook)
SYNOPSIS: A retelling of the story of Achilles in Patroclus' point of view.
RATING: 3.8/5
REVIEW:
I liked this book. The pacing was kind of slow but it helped that Madeline Miller's writing is very beautiful. It had an accurate retelling of the story of Achilles and seeing his life in Patroclus' point of view is an interesting take. I already knew how their story would end (because I've read about the Trojan war before) but it was still interesting to see how Madeline Miller would write their story. I love Greek Myth and this had shown me more about Achilles' life before the Trojan War. However, I had a hard time connecting and really falling in love with Achilles and Patroclus' relationship. They had their cute times but I wasn't really invested in their relationship but I did like their friendship in the beginning. Also, I felt that after Patroclus and Achilles died, the writing kind of felt different and abrupt.
FAVORITE QUOTES:
Useless information is my curse, I'm afraid.
"So, in the course of our conversations, when it became clear that the Lady Penelope favored me-"
"Not for your looks, certainly," Diomedes commented.
"Certainly not," Odysseus agreed.
"I'll go." Diomedes stood from where he leaned against the rail. "I've heard this one almost as many times as that sickening bed story."
"Your loss," Odysseus called after him.
"Don't mind him. His wife's a hellhound bitch, and that would sour anyone's temper. Now, my wife--"
"I swear." Diomedes' voice carried back up the length of the ship. "If you finish up that sentence, I will throw you over the side and you can swim to Troy."
"I'm sick to death of this tale about your marriage bed."
"Then perhaps you shouldn't have suggested I tell it."
"And perhaps you should get some new stories, so I don't fucking kill myself of boredom."
"A thousand ships have sailed for her."
A thousand was the number Agammemnon's bards had started using; one thousand, one hundred and eight-six didn't fit well in a line of verse.
"So, in the course of our conversations, when it became clear that the Lady Penelope favored me-"
"Not for your looks, certainly," Diomedes commented.
"Certainly not," Odysseus agreed.
"I'll go." Diomedes stood from where he leaned against the rail. "I've heard this one almost as many times as that sickening bed story."
"Your loss," Odysseus called after him.
"Don't mind him. His wife's a hellhound bitch, and that would sour anyone's temper. Now, my wife--"
"I swear." Diomedes' voice carried back up the length of the ship. "If you finish up that sentence, I will throw you over the side and you can swim to Troy."
"I'm sick to death of this tale about your marriage bed."
"Then perhaps you shouldn't have suggested I tell it."
"And perhaps you should get some new stories, so I don't fucking kill myself of boredom."
"A thousand ships have sailed for her."
A thousand was the number Agammemnon's bards had started using; one thousand, one hundred and eight-six didn't fit well in a line of verse.
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