Helen's suitors: I don't understand why the princess chose Menelaus over us! We are obviously better choices than that kingdom-less prince! Agamemnon: *walks by* You think your ten minutes of flexing can compete with Menelaus' ten years of being Helen's gal pal? Delusional.

Odysseus

yandere shouto x reader, background shinsou x reader

summary; im a lil too obsessed with greek myth and purple prose and shouto’s too obsessed with u. peep the title if u still dont know what this is abt

tw; blood, death

word count; 2.6k

X

the cast

of course, we have our brave and guileful hero, Todoroki Shouto, as Odysseus himself, Nobody, King of Ithaca, and Son of Laertes. you play the role of sweet Penelope, Helen’s pretty mortal cousin. brash Antinous is portrayed by Yoarashi Inasa. and Shinsou Hitoshi is our silver-tongued Eurymachus

the first glance

Shouto first comes for the hand of your demi-god cousin, Helen, who is said to rival Aphrodite in beauty. you don’t like this farce your uncle puts on, summoning men from all over Greece to compete for Helen’s hand in marriage; she is still a child, only 16, and with no say in her future. still, you think, rather guiltily, better her than you. you do your best to avoid the suitors who come in hope of Helen’s hand, lest the see you and decide that they would like a consolation prize. downward gazes, veiled hair, and thick, draping robes all help to deflect attention, and you mange to pass unnoticed for the first couple weeks. all of this changes when he arrives. it’s said that nothing escapes his watchful gaze, and when his icy eyes sweep over you, you can feel yourself freeze as you pull your shawl just a little closer. he pauses for a fraction of a second, and yet you are unimaginably relieved when he moves on to inspect the crowd of nobles gathered in the corner

the pursuit

that night, you appear only as needed for the festivities before hurrying off to your rooms to weave. you’re rushing through one of the more abandoned hallways, preferring to walk a little extra rather than run into a drunk man, and when you turn the corner, room in view, Shouto stops you. maybe stop is too vague of a word; rather, he cages you in, not only with a casual hand against the wall, but also societal niceties. you desperately want to push him away, run for the refuge of your room, but to do so would be to slight all of Ithaca and bring his wrath down on your father. Shouto knows this, too. he tries to woo you first, honeyed words and a silver tongue, but you’re the daughter of a king. you’re used to gold. he tells you that the minute he saw you hiding away in the corners of shadows that his heart would beat for no other, and that he had to have you no matter what it took. 

‘such a delicate thing, whose humble beauty is overshadowed by your cousin’s,’ he says. it doesn’t escape your notice how docile he makes you out to be, and while you were raised to be demure and refined lady, if Shouto really thinks you’re going to sit back and let him take you away, he’s wrong. he seems to sense the little fire of rebellion deep within you, but rather than putting him off, it only stokes his desire. lust flares in his eyes, and from that moment onward you know that you’ve trapped yourself in an obsessive relationship

the snare

Shouto leaves Tyndareus’ house with an alliance of the Greek city states and your hand in marriage. his quick wit and silver tongue allows him to secure the visiting nobles into a united agreement; Tyndareus will choose a husband for Helen, and all other men must leave without quarrel, and come when called upon. in return, Tyndareus will support Shouto in his pursuit of you. you know who the man is before your uncle even speaks, for in your agreement to marry Shouto, you asked that he might provide a kind and worthy man as Helen’s spouse. once again Helen lords over your life, but you cannot find it within yourself to hate her for it. after all, she is but a mere child, still too young to understand that her beauty is not really hers, that her life will always be in the hands of other men. still, one could argue that you are but a child, too. the ceremony is beautiful; you wear a dress of the finest fabric, a material softer and finer and lighter than any sort of linen you have ever encountered but one that Shouto assures you is worth it’s weight in gold. if he thinks to buy your love with material goods, you’ll allow yourself to be spoiled but you will never part with your affection willingly. at least, that’s what you think. Shouto has other plans

the early years

even from the beginning Shouto’s love is overbearing and extreme, but he’s a powerful king who treats you well and kept your cousin safe so there’s not much you can complain about. you’re just barely out of childhood, children who have been burdened with great power and yet the love and devotion he looks at you with is unparalleled. you have a feeling that he would fight even the gods to keep you. he’s kind and considerate; for the first two years of marriage he neither beds you nor tries do, despite the pressure he must feel to produce an heir and the weight of your family’s expectations. these gifts, these personal liberties he allows you to have, the way he lets you roam the island at your own leisure, this is why you fall in love with him. it’s odd; you never thought you would love the stoic king of Ithaca, but it seems that Aphrodite has other plans for you. on your twentieth birthday, you welcome him into your bed for the first time, and less than a month later, you discover that you are with child. it’s the next turning point in your marriage

the worse years

after the birth of Telemachus, Shouto’s love changes once again. once forgiving and relaxed about your interactions with others, he seeks to hide you away for only himself to see. the worst is when men approach you. it does not matter what their intentions are, nor their age nor stature nor standing; Shouto claims that his heart beats only for you, and thus yours should beat only for him. his demands to know where you’ve been and who you’ve talked to become more and more intense, until the island loses it’s queen. you are a prisoner in your own home, with Shouto smothering you in love, spending the whole of his day just lounging with you while he addresses kingly matters. bitterly, you think how you have never had any power to your name, not the way that men do and not the way that Shouto does. your rooms are nothing but a gilded cage, and you are almost glad when he is summoned for war. almost. after all, you do love the soft, kind boy that he once was

the war

throughout the war, you hear of your husband’s exploits. his bravery, his cunning, his skill. whenever you do not hear about him, your heart aches in fear, though you do not know if you wish him alive or dead. a year after the way has ended, when Helen has been reunited with Menelaus again, when Agamemnon is dead and Cassandra gone, when Aeneas has set sail for New Iliium, not yet Rome, the suitors come trickling in. at first, you do not know what to do, for festivities and mean both ceased to exist within the palace walls after the birth of your son. two catch your eye, bold Antinous, known as Inasa, sweet beyond his brash exterior, and sly Eurymachus, whose wit you see in your husband and whose charm is only his own. by the end of the second year after the fall of Troy, it is obvious who your heart beats for. the sight of purple sets your heart alight, and his small smiles are as sweet as the finest honey. you wonder if this is how Odysseus felt when he first saw you. 

‘call me Hitoshi’, he says, and the way it rolls off your tongue is a sign that this love was meant to be. he asks for your hand in marriage three times. each time a flash of red and white causes your throat clog with fear, and though you know that you deny him out of protection, it makes the tears no less painful. even the loss of your husband cannot set you free

the reprieve 

after Hitoshi’s third proposal, you set about weaving a shroud for your vanished lover. each day you weave ten rows, and each night you unravel five more. the sun-drenched days you spend with your violet-haired lover only fuel a blazing passion within you, but when he is gone, when you are alone in a cold room meant for two, the icy gaze of your husband haunts you, and you cannot help but delay the inevitable once more. you will bury your love, one day. you just cannot find the courage now. in the end of the fifth year after the fall of Troy, you finish the shroud. 

Hitoshi is too respectful to rejoice, but you can see the relief in his eyes that you have finally put the memory of your husband to rest. plans are made, friends contacted, and suitors long vacated return to your halls in preparation of a beautiful wedding. the palace swells with life once more, the boisterous laughter of the men filling the halls and driving away the cold of the night. when night falls, you rest your head against Hitoshi’s chest, his arm slung carelessly across your shoulders, and you listen to the steady sound of his heartbeat, and rejoice in the constancy of his love. 

where Shouto is the sun, bright and brilliant and life giving, but prone to flares of temper and burning those his affections focus on, Hitoshi is the moon; silver-tongued and soft, reflecting the radiance of others and giving the world a gentle glow. yet, despite your happiness, despite the love and life that is promised, you cannot help but feel a pit of worry in your gut

the unraveling 

not more than a week after the former suitors’ arrival, your anxieties are confirmed in the form of a beggar. he is naught but an old man, merely claiming to know of the great king Odysseus, yet you cannot help but lean away from Hitoshi, your lover, and sit as if unhappy with the festivities. something about your mysterious visitor doesn’t sit right with you, and when he proclaims that Odysseus has escaped death, you know why. Inasa laughs, the scent of wine and honey heavy on his breath, and declares Odysseus dead. 

‘his wife has burned the shroud she wove, not more than a month ago. dead men do not return five years after their fall.’ you want nothing more than to silence him, fear brewing in your stomach, and you are too busy giving panicked glances to your dear friend to notice how the stranger’s eyes train on you alone. a curt nod affirms Inasa’s statement, and your voice is steady when you answer. 

‘less than a moon ago I laid the memory of my husband to rest. it has been ten long years, five years too long for a living man to return.’ you say this, and yet, you cannot wonder if this is a test . who is this man who claims to know of your husband, whose eyes burn like ice against your skin? you have to know, and perhaps it is your curiosity that causes your downfall

the slaughter 

when the guests wake the next day, you propose a challenge. it’s selfish of you, borne out of a need for reassurance, a need to know that your husband truly is dead and that your love lives and will remain living. the great bow of Odysseus, only to be strung and shot by the man himself, is brought out, and forty axes are planted in the great hall. 

‘this bow was my husbands, may his soul rest in Hades, and it was said that only he could wield it. who among you will try?’ man after man step up, failing good naturedly and patting Hitoshi on the back when he too does the same. you don’t mind his inability to wield the bow; in fact, it comforts you that your husband has been laid to rest, that his memory will not live on even in his weapons. then, the beggar from last night comes forward, and though you know that the decrepit body of his will be unable to sustain the force needed to even string the bow, fear runs thick in your blood. it is like you have been struck by Zeus, watching as the stranger strings the bow with ease, before launching an arrow straight through the great axes in the hall. your husband stands, and shakes off the illusion like a fur coat. 

‘my love’ is all he says, and before you can react there’s an arrow buried in Agelaus’ heart and an expression of horror burned into his face. he orders you to the bedroom, your shared bedroom, but you stand still in shock, unable to move as he slaughters the men you have called friends in the very place you once called a prison. soon, far too quickly, there is none left save for brave Inasa and your lover Hitoshi. the look of disgust on your husband’s face as he rounds on Inasa, sword drawn, is unimaginable. 

‘you come into my house, flaunt the rules of xenia, court my wife, and desire mercy? you will have no justice except for the bite of my blade.’ Inasa dies inelegantly, loud voice lost in a fountain of blood pouring from his throat. as Shouto stalks towards Hitoshi, it as all you can do to throw yourself around your lover, despite your please, Hitoshi steps out from behind you, hands placating and silver tongue spilling words of peace and goodwill. you want to tell him that silver tongues fail against tongues of gold, but it is too late and in the end all you can do is hold your love as the life bleeds from his eyes, forgiving and gentle to the very end

the ruins

the hem of your fine silk dress is soaked in blood when Shouto pulls you into his embrace, and you call brokenly for the servants to keep your son from seeing the carnage. he should never have to know the monster that his father is. as you look into his face, worn by the horrors of war and lined by time, you cannot help but hope that this is not your husband who has just perpetuated such a crime, that the soft red and white haired boy you once knew is dead, and a god holds you in their arms instead. 

it’s a desperate, last ditch attempt to save the face of a man who once brought the life of Ithaca to you, and when you ask him to prove that he is Odysseus, that he is Shouto, your husband, you hope that he cannot speak anything but lies and half truths. he asks what you would want to hear from him, and you tell him that you have tired of sleeping alone and would like him to move to the bed in your bridal chamber, as only Odysseus himself would be able to lift it. 

Shouto smiles, the years slipping off his face, and for a second you’re staring into the eyes of a man who helped your cousin, a man who waited two years to even touch you because he wanted to respect your decision to love him at your own pace, the man who gave you your greatest joy, Telemachus. he strokes your hair, love clouding his beautiful eyes, and tells you that it cannot be done, for he built the bed himself around a living olive tree. your heart sinks in disappointment, and you know that no divinity stands before you, only a god of a man. as you fall into his arms and sob, he holds you close, arms just a little too tight as he whispers soft comforts in your ear. 

‘I am home, my love, and you have been here, waiting faithfully for me’

“The villain is the hero of the other side”. On heroism, hard choices and repercusions (Part I)

I was inspired to write this meta by @a-redqueenofthewolves-love post about GOT and how it’s set to defy conventions previously set in the fantasy genre.

Disclaimer: This will be show-centric. I will try to expose how certain motifs from The Iliad are present in GOT, and how some of the elements for Homer’s epic might guide us going into season 8.

GRRM has said, time and time again, that ASOIAF and GOT is about human conflict in an epic fantasy setting. It’s a story about the human heart in conflict with itself. 

When trying to compare ASOIAF with other works of literature, LOTR is the first that comes to mind for obvious reasons. But another might as well be Homer’s the Iliad.

Wrath and War

The Iliad, the great epic by definition, revolves around the Trojan War, but the war is not the argument but the frame of the story. The argument is focused on wrath (in the original text in greek, μῆνιν [ménis], which means wrath is the first word of the epic). The same happens with GOT. The show is framed by war: the War of the Five Kings, Daenerys’ wars in Essos, Daenerys’ War of Conquest and most recently, the War for the Dawn. But all of these wars are just a frame: the argument focus on the treachery between the different Houses of Westeros, the race for power (how it corrupts and breaks people), and survival, which sometimes include making hard, not-so-honorable choices. But the matter of wrath is also present. Vengeance, sometimes presented as what it is, sometimes presented as “justice”, is always present. But that doesn’t mean the show is exclusively driven by vengeance. No, some characters seek it, but others truly seek justice. Only that in GOT, there’s a fine line between the two. Vengeance ties perfectly to the motif of power, that serves as the backbone of the series. The most important characters chase it or fall victims to its clutches. All of the characters are pieces of a game, in which their decisions will be key, it’s what they do (or don’t do) that will determine if they stay in the game or not.

GRRM says in this interview:

GRRM: I’ve always been interested in writing what I call “gray characters,” and not painting in shades of black or white. A lot of fantasy novels portray the clash between good and evil as the heart of the novel — as the thematic core. And I certainly think that’s a valid thematic core for a book, but as I look on that, the fight between good and evil is not fought on a battlefield, where one side is wearing white and the other side is wearing black, and the guys in black are all really ugly and they eat human flesh, and they have horns and stuff.

Interviewer: Like in Tolkien!

GRRM: [...] I think the battle between good and evil is fought all over the world, every day, in the individual human heart, as we all struggle with the choices that define us and define our lives. And we have to choose what we are going to do, and sometimes the choice is not easy; it’s not this absolute juxtaposition of the good guys and the bad guys. And I wanted to get to that with my characters, and show some of the difficulties that they face.

We bare witness to this in GOT from the very first season. I might even say the series premiere with Jaime, Cersei and Bran. There you have what would appear by all standards a “perfect knight”, dressed all in white, beautiful, commanded with the protection of the King and his family. Then you have a beautiful Queen, who by all standards, should be fair and good, the twin sister of the “perfect knight”. And, last but not least, you have a curious child, one with dreams of becoming a knight, just like Jaimie Lannister. But it’s all turned up on its head when we discover that things are not what they seem: the “perfect knight” pushes a kid out of a window after he discovers him and the Queen having an incestuos relationship. The knight dressed in white is not perfect and  the beautiful Queen is not good. 

Another example of this is the Night’s Watch, which is a twist on the “Dark Is Evil” trope. The Night’s Watch is a group of men that are sworn to the protection of the realm. They do not partake in politics, they stay neutral, since their task is to defend the people of Westeros from northern threats. But the sworn brothers are dressed in black, head to toe.

But the whole Light Is Not Good versus Dark Is Not Evil is just a way to make the audience understand that these characters break the mold: the knight in white, shining armor is not good, the beautiful queen plots to murder her husband, the beautiful, young prince is cruel, even the honorable Starks can seek vengeance, we have two noble sisters: one an outcast that ends up on the run and the would-be princess ends up captive in a castle. But things changes: the knight finds a way to find honor, the murderous, treacherous queen loses power, the cruel prince is murdered, the Starks trusts the wrong people, the noble lady on the run becomes a master assassin and the other one manages to escape her captors.

GOT showed us what war does to people, how it changes them. It showed us that the heroes can go down a dark path and do bad things just as the bad guys can change and do good. And now that it’s coming to an end, there are no clear good guys/bad guys. We have a slate of characters with their traits, good and bad, who made a series of choices, good and bad, who are or will be in conflict with one another. From Daenerys’ perspective, Cersei is a villain, and viceversa. From House Stark’s perspective, Cersei is a clear villain and Daenerys a rival. It’s all matter of perspective at this point, and you can see that from the different arguments the characters use to explain their actions.

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It all comes down to what the characters choose to do

In another interview with Rolling Stone, he says:

GRRM:  It’s sad to say, but I do think there are things worth fighting for. Men are still capable of great heroism. But I don’t necessarily think there are heroes. That’s something that’s very much in my books: I believe in great characters. We’re all capable of doing great things, and of doing bad things. We have the angels and the demons inside of us, and our lives are a succession of choices.

This is something that also happens in the Iliad: it’s a succession of choices that trigger an unstoppable series of events. Whether it’s Paris’ choice to abduct Helen while he was a guest at Menelau’s home (a huge insult, since he violated the rituals of xenia, which refer to hospitality and are protected by Zeus) that triggers the Trojan War, Agamenmon’s choice of taking Briseus from Achilles which triggers Achilles’ refusal to fight in the war, which at the same time, Achilles’ decision triggers Patroclus’ death at the hands of Hector, which will bring the death of Hector at the hands of a vengenful Achilles. 

You see, all the men from the Iliad are considered heroes/are described with heroic qualities. From the aechean side, the heroes were Agamenmon, Menelaus, Achilles (to a certain extent, I’ll explain later), Oddyseus, Ajax the Great, Diomedes and Nestor. They’re only a few examples. From the trojan side we have Hector, which represents the civic and patriotic values a man should have. He’s a man that fights to defends his family and city: “Fight for your country-that is the best, the only omen!” he says to a frightened Polydamas in the middle of battle. Other heroes linked with Troy are Polydamas, Aeneas, Memnon, Sarpedon, amongst others.

As I said before: all these men are heroes to their own and are described by Homer with heroic qualities. But that doesn’t mean they are not percieved as villains. 

Jean-Pierre Vernant, an eminence in the fields of Ancient Greek history and anthropology, said this about the Achilles/Hector dynamic: “There’s no hero if there is no monster to fight and slay”. And that’s exactly what they are to each other. For Achilles, Hector is the murderer of his dear friend Patroclus; For Hector, Achilles is a fearsome greek trying to invade and destroy his city. They both have to slay the monster that is the other, let it be for survival or vengeance.

They’re both heroes, they’re both villains. They both make good and bad choices, choices that will later influence the story, to their benefit or not.

I’d like to go back to GRRM. What is it about characters like Achilles and Hector and their fight at the climax of the Iliad that sparks his interest?:

Martin said that this ongoing discussion in his literature is tied to the dichotomy of any conflict, especially where moral truth is concerned. “I think one of the themes of the book is the examination of heroism,” said Martin. “I have always been fascinated with [the idea], the villain is the hero of the other side.The great fight in the Illiad between Achilles and Hector is in some ways my model more so than fights between a hero and villain traditionally are. What constitutes a hero? Is a hero always a hero?”

The answer the Iliad gives us to that question is: no. A hero is not always a hero, or better put, a hero doesn’t always behave like one. 

The prime example of this in Homer’s epic is Achilles. In the last moments of Hector’s life, Achilles denies him a proper funeral. This is an act hubris. To understand the gravity of Achilles’ actions: funerals rites were very important, as it served as a way to prepare the soul to leave the world of the living and go to the Underworld. If a person was unburied, their soul couldn’t cross the Acheron river, thus not entering the Underworld, their soul remaining lost until they are properly buried. After he kills Hector, he ties him to the end of his chariot, dragging Hector’s body through the dirt. He continues to defile Hector’s body for twelve days, until he’s convinced by the gods to return the body to the father, Priam.

Achilles chooses to do this, knowing it’s wrong, as the aechean camp had just celebrated the funeral games in honor of Patroclus. He chooses to do this, blinded by wrath, and it ultimately has its consequences.

In GOT, there are a lot of examples of this. But I want to focus on characters that are still alive. The theme of the blinding wrath shows us how it can drive the characters to make certain choices that will have unfortunate consequences for them. Because when the characters put their wrath above all else it’s an act of hubris, and those don’t go unpunished. And that punishment brings another act of hubris, let it be by the same person or someone avenging them, and it goes on and on until there’s no one left, or until people turn from their wrath. And this is something we can see in season 7. How the characters play the Big Game indicate us their possible ending: characters driven by wrath, characters driven by vengeance, characters driven by justice, characters driven by survival, characters driven by power. 

Let’s start with one of the clearest examples the show has to offer: Cersei

I know Cersei isn’t considered a hero in the story, but her example helps illustrate the point.

Season 6 ended with Cersei blowing up the Sept of Baelor, and the Tyrells and the High Sparrow/Faith Militant with it.

She commited mass murder and she blew up a holy place. And by the smirk she has on her face as she watches it go all green, she doesn’t show any semblant of remorse. And why should she? From her perspective, she just got rid of all the people that were a threat to her and her family. She killed her enemies. But all of these things can be considered acts of hubris. Why?

Cersei’s actions drove her last remaining son to kill himself. The punishment to her hubris was as cruel as her actions. Now she lost all of her children: Joffrey poisoned by Olenna and Littlefinger; Myrcella poisoned by Ellaria in response to Oberyn’s death and you could say that Tommen died by her hand, even if it was indirectly.

But it also leads to this:

She got the throne; the price was his son. From that moment on, she becomes a dangerous yet fragile monarch: she has nothing else to lose, except her crown, the thing that gives her power and is keeping her alive.

So, she begins season 7 being very realistic of her prospects:

“Enemies to the East, enemies to the West, enemies to the South, enemies to the North” she says. She’s well aware of her situation. She’s got Daenerys, Olenna, Ellaria and the Starks (Jon and Sansa) to deal with. She knows how the game is played and is not going to give up when she just secured the Iron Throne. She fights, with Jaime by her side, for the honor of House Lannister. And she intends to win. She was the one that introduced us to the nature of the game back in season 1, after all:

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And fight she does. She launches a successful (and very profitable) attack on Highgarden with the Lannister army. The threat in the West is eliminated. She also attacks part of Daenerys’ fleet, with the help of Euron Greyjoy. In that attack she eliminates the threat in the South and weakens the threat in the East. Against all odds, she is winning the war for the throne. Why? She takes advantage of her enemies’ flaws. She knows her southern enemies, except for Daenerys, are not after the throne but her. They seek revenge: Olenna for her family and Ellaria for Oberyn. So she uses it against them. Another thing playing on her favor is her pathos: being her father’s daughter, she chooses her words carefully with her allies: the Westerosi Lords. She appeals to them through the way she knows best, fear. She tells them that the Mad King’s daughter is there to invade Westeros, to kill everyone that opposses her in a cruel way (she mentions the crucifixion of the Masters), to use her three dragons on their castles and lands, and that she marches in with an army of rapists and pillagers. That little speech is enough to secure her the loyalty of the Westerosi nobles. She puts herself as the lesser bad out of the two options available. But it doesn’t last long, because of the Field of Fire 2.0 (I’ll talk about it in depth when discussing Daenerys). So by the end of the season we have Cersei with not so many allies, but with gold, with the support of the Iron Bank and ties with the Golden Company. 

So what’s next for Cersei? Her fall. Throughout the show, her quest has been one of power and survival, both so intricately tied. For her, there wasn’t survival without power. This has become clearer since the murder of Tywin. But here’s the thing, her pursuit of power wasn’t just for survival, it’s been for the last few seasons, but not always. She wanted power for the sake of having it. And this pursuit only turned more and more violent: first she used people, then she threatened and hurt them, then killed them. It was an act of hubris right after the other, but somehow she’s Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. That doesn’t mean she hasn’t been punished. Her punishments are tied to prophecy. She has lost everything that mattered to her (her children), that’s punishment enough. But the prophecy told by Maggy the Frog didn’t stop there: a younger, more beautiful queen would come to cast her down, after taking everything from her. Of course, Cersei believed Margaery was the younger, more beautiful queen and blowing up the Sept was a way to putting and end to that. But we all know Margaery wasn’t it, simply because prophecies are not what they seem. She has Jaime, she has her crown. Which of those two is more important to her? Who will take them from her? The thing is that by just losing one of the two, she weakens. The crown grants her power, that’s obvious, but Jaime is the commander of her army, and in that sense, he brings her a sense of protection, as the military leader of their House while she is the political leader. He’s the only family she’s got left (that she cares for), he’s also her lover. And we see Jaime riding North by the end of the season, to honor his pledge to fight against the White Walkers. So it seems she’s already losing her grasp on Jaime. What he does in season 8 will not only impact him, but also her. Another thing to keep in mind, we’ve never had Cersei be alone. She’s always been surrounded by her family, but one by one they’ve been either taken out of the game or switched sides. So that’s something to be mindful of. 

So we have a villain-coded character, who’s a hero in her mind, that committed countless acts of hubris and been punished for them. But that hasn’t stopped her, and she goes for the most important thing for her: power. It’s the only way she thinks she can survive. Only that her way to secure power isn’t the right one, so she keeps on making terrible choices. But all this time, she’s been driven by something else: prophecy. All her actions have been tied to this, she’s been mindful of it, but the prophecy still came true. So, in an act of defiance, she interferes and thinks she put an end to the prophecy/omen, but it’s something that will be part of her undoing. In Greek Literature is perfectly clear: an omen is a sign of the gods, whether it’s a warning or a blessing, and humans must obide. When they don’t, it’s considered as an act of hubris. Tommen’s death and her coronation weren’t the only repercussion to this action, they were the beginning of the end for Cersei. She still has to pay for this, and the ones to collect will be the younger, more beautiful queen and the Valonqar.

So, let’s go talk heroes.

First, let’s start with Arya

Season 7 opened with Arya wearing the face of Walder Frey, with the goal of avenging the events of the Red Wedding. She accomplishes her goal, erasing House Frey from the map.

Arya is one of the undesputed heroes of GOT. But still, she decimated House Frey. But it’s linked with the theme of vengeance and justice, as I explained in the beggining. There’s a fine line between vengeance and justice in the world of GOT, and Arya is one of those characters that’s constantly walking that line. She was driven by wrath, but she was also driven by a sense of justice.

The killing of the Freys hasn’t stopped Arya. There are still some people on her list. So she heads to King’s Landing.

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But her wrath stops when she finds out about Jon and Winterfell.

Her family and home have a stronger pull on her than wrath, so she puts her quest for vengeance/justice aside, for a while, at least .

But it wasn’t long till there was discord in Winterfell, thanks to Littlefinger

Arya and Sansa were at odds again, with the difference that they weren’t children anymore. Both of them learned to survive against all odds, no matter what.

Arya was still mad about what happened in King’s Landing, and all it took was the scroll Sansa was forced to write to Robb to revive that anger. Putting the writing aspect of the Winterfell plot aside, at this point of the story, Arya had two choices: hold on to that anger, let her wrath be her guide, or put her wrath aside and be one with her pack, something the three starklings had to learn last season. They’ve been on their own since season 1, learned how to survive on their own (when I say on their own, I mean that they didn’t have any other relative to rely on). And this was particularly hard for Arya, she’s been a lone wolf since the start, from when she felt like an outcast within her family, when she was on the run with the Hound, to her time in the House of Black and White.

(A personal note here: I don’t think Arya really considered killing Sansa, just as I don’t think Sansa really considered having Arya killed. Littlefinger used Sansa and Arya’s weak points and exploited them. It was making sure she doubted Sansa and then it would all unfold perfectly. He knew Arya would come off as threatening, and Sansa would be scared and in need to talk to someone about it. Of course, he would be the one that listened to Sansa’s worries, and stir them into the scenario he desired. But Littlefinger blew it when he insinuated Arya would kill her so she could be Lady of Winterfell, something Sansa knows very well her sister would never want. This is what prompted Sansa to check with Bran, and the rest is history)

But the sisters worked it through, and with the help of Bran, the three as a pack took down another threat:

So we have a hero whose arc throughout the series has been driven by vengeance/justice. In season 7 she has some safety, for she returns to Winterfell. But that doesn’t mean she’s free from her wrath. There are still monsters to fight and slay, only that she’s been on her own for so long that she’s suspcious of everyone. She also finds herself trapped in the machinations of one of her enemies, only this enemy works in the shadows, someone unbeknownst to her. He goes planting little seeds and waits for the reaping. It isn’t until she and her siblings work as a unit that they defeat their common enemy. In Arya we have a hero that let go of her blinding wrath. That fine line she’s been walking on since season 1, the line between vengeance and justice, got a little bit clearer, and now she’s on the side of justice, alongside her pack. 

But what’s coming for Arya in season 8? Problems, but this time she’ll have to learn to find a solution to them as part of a unit, not alone. The thing about Arya is that she’s been on her own for so long, she relies entirely on her instincts. But she’s no longer on her own, she has her pack, and every one of them have their own instincts, so finding solutions to pressing problems (one will be the parenting reveal) will be crucial for her character. There’s also the matter of vengeance/justice. Her storyline has been driven by this since season 1. But as stated before, there’s a fine line between the two in GOT. What exactly is vengeance? Is it still justice if the deed is the same or worse the one done to you? She’s been walking that fine line throughout the show, but only with her kills of season 7 we can say with certainty that those were acts of justice. Putting the personal aspect of it aside (as revenge is always personal), those kills can be considered justice because of the way they were executed. She gave the Freys a reasonably clean and quick death, compared to what they’ve done to her family. It’s the same with Littlfinger, only there was a trial for him and his treachery was exposed for all the Lords to see. Having that in mind, she’s a highly skilled assassin but won’t kill just because she can. She, as part of the pack and with them, will be in charge of imparting justice. So a new question arises. We’ve seen Arya as an avenger of her family. But now that she has reunited with her siblings, paired with the skills she has, now she can be a protector.

Who will be at the end of Needle/the dagger this time?

So, that’s it for now. I’ll talk about the remaining key players in a second post.

This meta will also be part of a series, in which I take different elements of the Iliad and compare them to GOT and its characters/story.

Lyanna Was Fond of Flowers- A Meta on Lyanna, the Tourney of Harrenhal, Consent, the Tower of Joy, and Finally, Roses

[@nobodysuspectsthebutterfly um here? A gift? This is as good as I can write it right now. Please tell me if I did alright!] 

Lyanna Stark was sixteen years old when she died. I don’t think I can stress this enough: Lyanna Stark was not old enough to order a fucking pillow pet when she died. There, that’s as bluntly as I can put it. You got that? She was not old enough to dial a phone number and ask for an as-seen-on-TV stuffed animal. That’s how young she was. 

With this firmly in the front of our thoughts, let us proceed into the depths of the tangled woman-child best known as Lyanna Stark. Don’t worry, It’s better under the cut.

Rhaegar Targaryen, Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms rode up to Lyanna Stark, the daughter of a Great Lord, at the Tourney of Harrenhal, 281 AC. The greatest tourney of its time, with prizes several times what was offered by Tywin Lannister at the Lannisport tourney of 276, this was a Big Fucking Deal. Hundreds of people flocked to Harrenhal. Hundreds of people were in attendance to this moment, a moment that would go down in history like Paris gifting the apple to Aphrodite. This is the moment, Westerosi historians will all agree, that e v e r y t h i n g changed. Picture it if you would- a lovely April afternoon, bright banners in every color imaginable, hundreds of strangers packed into the stands to watch the jousting, like some medieval superbowl. Picture a man more beautiful than anything, with streaming silver hair, ride up on his white horse towards a pretty young girl. 

It looks like a song, doesn’t it? The prelude to a grand Opus, the prelude to a master gardener’s final work, his last best hope of making a ripple in history. You see that too? Good. That means that you understand some level of the context this story is in. 

It all looks like a song to Lyanna, too. The prologue to a love story. Her love story. She’s fourteen years old, and this is a man she met only a few days ago under the silent gaze of a tree and maybe a few men in white cloaks. The Crown Prince extends a crown of flowers in her direction, a crown of blue roses, winter roses, her very favorite sort of flower. We’ve drawn this moment half a hundred times before. There’s always someone just out of frame of the painting though, someone just out of sight. 

A woman. Another woman. The first woman. Princess Elia Martell of Dorne. Now Princess Elia Targaryen of Dragonstone. Her daughter is at home, her son a bun in an oven, if even that. We can’t quite see her expression: is it rage, is it hurt, is it guilt, is it disappointment? Perhaps it is fear. I’ve heard people say that they could feel the weight of a moment, that they could feel the strings of fate tightening inextricably around them- perhaps Elia could feel them too, could see the eventual carnage and destruction, perhaps she could see her children’s blood upon the walls of her home, perhaps she could hear her own screams. We’ll never know, I suppose. The painter has blurred out the faces of everyone except for the prince and the maiden. Don’t be fooled: he wants you to forget about everything but the song for the moment. Don’t forget Elia Martell, who walked among vipers and was unbitten. 

There’s someone else in the painting, too. There, lurking in the shadows, is our future king. Lord Robert Baratheon of Storm’s End, a hulking blue-eyed brute. He’s nineteen and his betrothed has just been handed a flower crown by a gorgeous man. He’s nineteen and his future wife just received a declaration of love from a married man. Can you see him, our Menelaus? I know he can be hard to see; I didn’t see him either, in the beginning.  

Lyanna accepts the flowers. She can’t very well tell him to go away and give them to Elia, can she? 

The smiles have died. The party is at an end. Our players return, like birds, to their nests.

Fast forward another year. It is 282 AC. Aegon VI Targaryen has been born, and Princess Elia Martell, it is revealed, will not be able to give birth to any more children. Rhaegar is faced with a dilemma: he believes that in order to save the world, he must have a son and two daughters. He has two of the three children, but still he needs his Visenya. His wife cannot give him his Visenya, but she must still be born. Can you see it? Can you see the Silver Prince brood as he plays his high harp? Can you hear his self-absorbed sighs of torment? 

Lyanna Stark is in the Riverlands. Why, we can’t be sure. It most likely is because her brother Brandon is getting married in a few weeks, but who knows? Lyanna is further south than that, on the grounds of Harrenhal. Perhaps she and the Prince arranged this; how else could he have known where to find her? If so, who contacted whom? And why? Perhaps it started out as something innocent, a maintenance of a friendship formed under the gaze of a tree. Perhaps it turned into laughter, and teasing, and flirting. Perhaps it turned into something not-so-innocent as Lyanna confessed that she didn’t want to marry Robert. Perhaps there were murmurs of sympathy from a pretty prince, because he hadn’t particularly wanted to marry his wife either. 

Perhaps there was a promise to a fifteen year old girl that she didn’t have to marry a drunken man-whore if she came to meet him at Harrenhal in a month. He would protect her, squirrel her away not far from his family home of Summerhall. She could live there for the rest of her days, or at least until he could remarry again. And the fifteen year old believes him, because he’s the Crown Prince and she knows that he can make all these things happen. She believes him, because she has faith that she is in a love song. Lyanna believes him, because beautiful people never lie. 

And if, for an instant, she feels a moment of doubt, this is what she realizes: she has been carrying on an emotional affair with a married man for a year. Her reputation would be ruined if anyone found out. If she refuses him, he could ruin her, he could burn her alive, he could tell his father that SHE was the Knight of the Laughing Tree and watch as she gets dragged to the pyre. And perhaps- perhaps- she has already lost her maidenhead to this Silver Prince because no one really knows what happened at Harrenhal. 

Can you see it? Picture her, if you would, the painting of a fifteen year old girl, with a long face and infinite grey eyes full of songs. Picture her, biting her lip, agonizing over her decision: does she stay or go? 

She goes. She goes alone, without telling anyone where she’s going, because then they could find her, then they could stop her. Lyanna’s watched Downton Abbey, she knows better than to leave a note. 

(But maybe, ponders a butterfly, maybe she did write a note, and maybe it was sent and maybe a three-eyed crow in the far, untouchable North, stopped the letter from going where it was supposed to go. The saviors, after all, could never be born if that letter reached where it had been sent.) 

And so Lyanna Stark disappears for a year and a half to the Tower of Joy.  

Little is known about what went on in the Tower of Joy. We don’t know when they got there, we don’t know if Rhaegar raped Lyanna, we don’t know if she knew about Brandon and Rickard, we don’t know if she tried to escape, we don’t know whether she was happy there, we don’t know if Rhaegar genuinely cared about her. We do know that Rhaegar and Lyanna had sexual intercourse at least once. We do know that Rhaegar left at some point. We do know that the Kingsguard stopped Eddard Stark and his men from entering the tower as Lyanna screamed for them. We do know that she knew about Rhaegar’s death at the Trident and the Sack of King’s Landing and the fate of her son’s half-siblings. We do know that Rhaegar left her in hostile territory, 15-16 years old and pregnant, with only a wetnurse to help her through the birth itself. 

Lyanna Stark dies in a bed of her own blood, in her brother’s arms, begging him for the life of her child, clutching desperately to the dead petals of long withered winter roses. Lyanna Stark, sixteen years old, dies. Lyanna’s bones are brought back to Winterfell, and so is her son. And we know what happens next.  

Can’t you see her, lying there? Don’t you see the bed with its pale sheets, and a gaunt young woman sweating and bleeding her life out onto them? Can’t you smell the metal tang of blood and the salt of sweat and tears? Can’t you hear Ned Stark’s sobs, his terrified promises, the squalling of a newborn, the murmuring of a wetnurse by the name of Wylla? Can’t you feel the tension, as Wylla, Howland, and Ned decide upon what’s to be done? Can’t you hear the last strains of Lyanna Stark’s song:

Lyanna, your song is the song of girls everywhere. You did not do everything right, but you didn’t do anything wrong. You trusted a man you shouldn’t have trusted, and now you lie dead in your bed. Oh Lyanna, oh Lyanna, willful and beautiful and dead. 

Can’t you smell the roses? 

The gardener cackles as our hearts plummet into our stomachs and the orchestra falls silent. Lyanna, prelude to all, with a prologue of flower crowns and an epilogue of dead rose petals, it is fitting that you were fond of flowers.

01 - Chorus

From: Agamemnon, by Aeschylus

Genre: Drama

Topic: Exposition

Character: Male; many characters as one

Note: monologue is under a read more because it is seven pages long

It’s now ten years since Menelaus,                                    Priam’s great adversary, and lord Agamemnon, two mighty sons of Atreus, joined by Zeus in double honours— twin thrones and royal sceptres— left this country with that fleet, a thousand Argive ships, to back their warrior cause with force, hearts screaming in their battle fury, two eagles overwhelmed by grief,                                      crying for their young—wings beating                                             like oars, they wheel aloft, high above their home, distressed because they’ve lost their work— their fledglings in the nest are gone! Then one of the supreme powers— Apollo, or Pan, or Zeus— hears the shrill wailing cry, hears those screaming birds, who live within his realm,                     and sends a late-avenging Fury to take revenge on the transgressors. In just that way, mighty Zeus,               god of hospitality, sends those sons of Atreus against Alexander, son of Priam— for that woman’s sake, Helen, the one who’s had so many men, condemning Trojans and Danaans to many heartfelt struggles, both alike, knees splintering as the fighting starts. Now things stand as they stand. What’s destined to come will be fulfilled, and no libation, sacrifice, or human tears will mitigate the gods’ unbending wrath of sacrifice not blessed by fire. But as for us, whose old bodies confer no honour, who were left behind when the army sailed so long ago,              we wait here, using up our strength to support ourselves with canes, like children, whose power, though growing in their chests, is not yet fit for Ares, god of war. And so it is with old men, too, who, when they reach extreme old age, wither like leaves, and go their way three-footed, no better than a child,            as they wander like a daydream.                 But you, daughter of Tyndareus, queen Clytaemnestra, what’s going on? What news? What reports have you received that lead you to send your servants out commanding all this sacrifice? For every god our city worships— all-powerful gods above the earth, and those below, and those in heaven,        and those in the marketplace—                   their altars are ablaze with offerings. Fires rise here and there and everywhere, right up to heaven, fed by sacred oils brought from the palace—sweet and holy, their purity sustains those flames. Tell us what you can, tell us what’s right for us to hear. Cure our anxious thoughts. For now, at one particular moment,            things look grim, but then our hopes,         rising from these sacrificial fires, make things seem better, soothing corrosive pains that eat my heart. I have the power to proclaim that prophecy made to our kings, as they were setting on their way, a happy outcome for their expedition. My age inspires in me Persuasion still, the power of song sent from the gods, to sing how two kings of Achaea’s troops, united in a joint command, led off      the youth of Greece, armed with avenging spears, marching against Troy, land of Teucer. They got a happy omen—two eagles, kings of birds, appeared before the kings of ships. One bird was black, the other’s tail was white, here, close to the palace, on the right, in a place where everyone could see. The eagles were gorging themselves, devouring a pregnant hare                  and all its unborn offspring, struggling in their death throes still.               Sing out the song of sorrow, song of grief, but let the good prevail. Then the army’s prophet, Calchas, observing the twin purposes in the two warlike sons of Atreus, saw the twin leaders of the army in those birds devouring the hare. He then interpreted the omen, saying,            “In due course this expedition will capture Priam’s city, Troy— before its towers a violent Fate will annihilate all public goods.                      But may no anger from the gods cast its dark shadow on our troops, our great bit forged to curb Troy’s mouth. For goddess Artemis is full of anger at her father’s flying hounds—she pities the cowering sacrificial creature in distress,   she pities its young, slaughtered before she’s brought them into life. Artemis abominates the eagles’ feast.” Sing out the song of sorrow, song of grief, but let the good prevail.                                  “And lovely Artemis—  though you’re gentle with the tender cubs of vicious lions and take special joy in the suckling young of all wild living beasts, promise things will work out well,                 as this omen of the eagles indicates,  an auspicious sign, but ominous. And I call Apollo, god of healing, to stop Artemis delaying the fleet, by sending hostile winds to keep the ships from sailing,                        in her demand for another sacrifice, one which violates all human law, which no feast celebrates— it shatters families and makes the wife           lose all respect and hate her husband.  For in the home a dreadful anger waits. It does not forget and cannot be appeased. Its treachery controls the house, waiting to avenge a slaughtered child.” Calchas prophesied that fatal destiny, read from those birds, as the army marched, speaking by this palace of the kings.                                   And to confirm all this sing out the song of sorrow, song of grief,     but let the good prevail. O Zeus, whoever he may be,                 if this name please him as invocation, then that’s the name I’ll use to call him. As I try to think all these things through, I have no words to shape my thoughts, other than Zeus—if I truly can succeed in easing my heart of this heavy grief, this self-defeating weight of sorrow. As for Uranus, who was once so great, bursting with arrogance for every fight, people will talk about that god as if he’d never even lived.             And his son, Cronos, who came after, has met his match and is no more. But whoever with a willing heart cries his triumphal song to Zeus will come to understand all things. Zeus, who guided mortals to be wise, has established his fixed law—                       wisdom comes through suffering. Trouble, with its memories of pain, drips in our hearts as we try to sleep,              so men against their will learn to practice moderation. Favours come to us from gods seated on their solemn thrones— such grace is harsh and violent. So then the leader of Achaean ships, the elder brother, Agamemnon,                      did not blame or fault the prophet, but gave in to fortune’s sudden blows. For Achaea’s army, stranded there, on the shores across from Calchis,                 was held up by opposing winds at Aulis, where tides ebb and flow. Troops grew weary, as supplies ran low. Winds blew from the Strymon river, keeping ships at anchor, harming men with too much leisure. Troops grew hungry. They wandered discontent and restless. The winds corroded ships and cables. The delay seemed endless, on and on, until the men, the flower of Argos, began to wilt. Then Calchas proclaimed the cause of this— it was Artemis. And he proposed                a further remedy, but something harsh, even worse than the opposing winds, so painful that the sons of Atreus struck their canes on the ground and wept.         Then Agamemnon, the older king, spoke up: “It’s harsh not to obey this fate— but to go through with it is harsh as well, to kill my child, the glory of my house, to stain a father’s hands before the altar                            with streams of virgin’s blood. Which of my options is not evil? How can I just leave this fleet, and let my fellow warriors down? Their passionate demand for sacrifice                               to calm the winds lies within their rights— even the sacrifice of virgin blood. So be it. All may be well.” But when Agamemnon strapped on the harsh yoke of necessity, his spirits changed, and his intentions became profane, unholy, unsanctified.                                He undertook an act beyond all daring. Troubles come, above all, from delusions inciting men to rash designs, to evil.                                   So Agamemnon steeled his heart to make his own daughter the sacrifice, an offering for the Achaean fleet, so he could prosecute the war waged to avenge that woman Helen. In their eagerness for war, those leaders                              paid no attention to the girl, her pleas for help, her cries of “Father!”— any more than to her virgin youth. Her father offered up a prayer,                                          then ordered men to seize her and lift her up—she’d fallen forward and just lay there in her robes—to raise her, high above the altar, like a goat, urging them to keep their spirits up. They gagged her lovely mouth, with force, just like a horse’s bit, to keep her speechless, to stifle any curse which she might cry against her family. As she threw her saffron robe onto the ground,                  she glanced at the men, each of them,                                             those carrying out the sacrifice, her eyes imploring pity. She looked just like a painting dying to speak. She’d often sung before her father’s table, when, as host, he’d entertained his guests, a virgin using her flawless voice to honour her dear father with her love, as he prayed for blessing at the third libation.                                                           What happened next I did not see. And I won’t say. What Calchas’ skill had prophesied did come to pass. The scales of Justice move to show                                  that wisdom comes through suffering. As for what’s to come—you’ll know that when it comes. So let it be. To know would be to grieve ahead of time. It’s clear whatever is to happen will happen, like tomorrow’s dawn.                                

But I hope whatever follows will be good, according to the wishes of our queen, who governs here, our closest guard, keeping watch all by herself, protecting Peloponnesian lands.

oof. in the last few days, i’ve watched five (5) new movies, at least three of which i have opinions on i’d like to share. for convenience’s sake, i’m going to start with the most recent, and work back from there. 

so: troy (2004) 

as someone who was coerced into studying the iliad at a liberal arts college, this movie enraged me. as someone who likes to enjoy himself while watching movies, this movie horrified me. all around, i’m going to rate it a solid 3/10, and that might be generous, but there WERE a few things i liked, which i’m going to talk about, because what else do i do here, anyway.

i’m not even going to get into all the ways this was an unfaithful adaptation of the source material, because there just is not the fucking time, and i’m sure other people before me have done it, so let’s just say that the moment they cast brad pitt as achilles, all hope was lost. i will comment that they of course no-homo’d achilles and patroclus, but had i gone in expecting to see any representation in this movie, i would have been an even bigger masochist than i am. that does not mean i wasn’t still a little disappointed, though.

troy takes into account much more than the actual span of the iliad, beginning (long) before the start of the epic and ending after it finished. in this way, we see the full span of the story, which i suppose is a good thing, although it did stretch this painfully milquetoast adaptation into an agonizing three hours. we see everything from agamemnon’s quest to unite all the kingdoms of greece together underneath his rule to the sacking of troy, meaning we also get to see paris seducing helen, achilles’ death, and the sacking of troy with the trojan horse, all of which the iliad does not include. being that the actual content of the iliad isn’t quite so battle-focused as the general public might think, these things are all probably good for the telling of an actual story. i can forgive most of the changes to the story that we did see, because i think that, given that you don’t know the source material, it makes for a cohesive and satisfying narrative, all in all. menelaus’s character being changed to make helen’s choice to leave with paris more sympathetic made the choice to have hector kill him a cathartic one. even better was briseis getting to take her revenge on agamemnon for his treatment toward her and, more generally, the fact that he was the one who brought war and soldiers to her front door. sure, that totally ruins the play orestes, but that was never going to be the sequel we were waiting for, anyway. 

side note, i think of the actors, agamemnon (played by brain cox) was the best. he just had a really good love-to-hate-him thing going, and played up his part pretty excellently. orlando bloom also felt like a good choice for paris (i would for sure leave menelaus for him, for instance), and vincent regan as eudoros was sort of a dark horse in the cast for me; i’d never heard of him before, and his character was small, but there was something striking about him. maybe it was just his eyes. 

in the movie, the siege of troy went from spanning ten years to like... maybe a couple of weeks? that was the one change from the source material that i really couldn’t abide, but What Ever I Guess. if they had just begun in the 9th year of the siege, it might have made the casting of then 40 year old brad pitt as achilles make a little more sense. as it stands.... whatever. sure. do whatever the fuck you want. i can’t stop you. 

generally, i like brad pitt in things (one of the other movies of the five that i watched, for instance, was se7en, although i don’t really have any particular comments on that other than, it was good, i liked it, i probably won’t choose to watch it again just on a whim), but i really could not get behind this particular performance. it had some of the same problems as him at the start of interview with the vampire; i think he kind of warmed to the role with that one, but the scene with him as a dissociating human felt... off, in terms of acting, but maybe that’s just me. either way, i’m not sure he ever really warmed to being achilles. 

and that sucked, because achilles could have been such a good character. 

obviously my personal bias is being taken into account here (yes, i read TSoA, yes i am letting it influence my perception of the dude), but if troy’s achilles had been prepared to put the raw emotion latent in the iliad’s achilles into the role, i think the character would have hit harder than he did. i personally didn’t love the expanded romance with briseis that they shoved in, but there was potential to see some tenderness there, and that could have been played up more, especially since she acted as the catalyst, here, for achilles to consider accepting the happy but unremarkable life he could have lived, instead of dying for glory in troy. failing that, i think patroclus’ role should have been more pronounced, and i’m not even saying that as a proponent of the patroclus/achilles relationship; even if they kept the two of them as cousins as they did in this setting, i think we needed to see a lot more interactions than the ones we did (although there was a fair amount, and given how long the movie turned out, i understand why it wasn’t fleshed out better) to really justify how hard achilles took the death of patroclus. there WERE some times that achilles got to exhibit emotions other than like emotionally stunted badass soldier either brooding or being pissed off--and that’s one of the highlights of the film, i’ll get back to that in a second--but the emotional climax between achilles and hector didn’t live up to my expectations. for one thing, in that scene in the poem, achilles didn’t just fight hector in retribution for the death of patroclus. he fought EVERYONE, up to and including hector, and more than that, a fucking RIVER DEITY. it was wild, unabashed grief that made him do horrible things. i would have personally loved to see an unhinged rampage, and instead, it got boiled down to one single fight between achilles and hector that lasted, i think, far longer than it should have. achilles was more powerful than hector, no matter how good hector was. i think it might have been more to my taste, at least, if we were shown that achilles had the strength to kill hector in a second, hardly taking him on to fight, and simply hadn’t before this because he was never given a reason to. 

all i’m saying is, movies are more interesting when characters are allowed to fully break, fully snap, just go buck fucking wild. but that’s just my onion.

i said i was going to come back to the “more emotions than emotional constipation” thing, and let’s do that now. one thing i DID like about the choices made in this film was that achilles was allowed to cry on screen, and he did, several times. i don’t know how to express how refreshing it was to see the archetypal badass soldier, the best of the greeks, break down into tears, especially when you consider how few movies really show men crying, much less movies of this particular genre. it’s kind of one of those “don’t give them props for scraping the bottom of the barrel” things, but i liked it, and since there were so few things i really did like about this movie, i’m going to give them props there. not just that, either--i also liked the way that paris could not face his death in his fight with menelaus, and crawled, terrified, back to his older brother. i liked that, while he degraded himself for the act later, the narrative and other characters never treated this like the wrong decision. sometimes, it’s impossible or incorrect to be noble at the price of yourself, especially in something like the fight over the hand of a woman who made her decision on where to go. paris did not win the fight, but he had a brother who loved him, and menelaus couldn’t understand that. and he died.

interestingly enough, paris also loses that fight in the epic, but rather than going to hector for protection, he’s whisked away by aphrodite before he can be killed. this was changed, naturally, because at no point in troy do the gods, who play by all accounts very important parts in the trojan war as told by the iliad, actually appear in the movie. they’re discussed throughout, and achilles’ mother, a goddess in the epic, appears to speak to him before he leaves for war, but it’s never affirmed whether or not she is divine, whether apollo is truly taking revenge for achilles’ desecration of his temple, whether godhood can be trusted or not. this is a theme that’s discussed and subverted many times, bringing in a type of ancient agnosticism to both the characters of achilles and hector, but ultimately it’s left unsolved. since they went the route of not being including the gods as characters, i’m happy with that conclusion. one of the more powerful bits of screentime between achilles and briseis was when he confided that he believed the gods were jealous of humans for their mortality, so ultimately, it was fitting that this story was told about the humans and the heroes, a celebration and examination of humanity, rather than throwing in divine intervention and cheapening the plot. 

there was a theme of love in the movie which i liked pretty well, especially for the fact that it wasn’t focused entirely on romantic love. the war began because helen ran back with paris, but not really: agamemnon was itching for a war anyway, and was happy to use his brother’s missing wife as a reason to begin the fight with troy he had been craving. menelaus clearly had no problem being cruel and unfaithful to helen, so her leaving him is not framed as a slutty and frivolous choice as it has been in other media. she goes off with someone willing to give away everything (up to and including his family and his palace) for her, and it’s honestly hard to blame her for that. plus, the war could have also been averted by hector turning around the ship and returning helen to her husband, which he very nearly does, except that if he did, he knows paris will try to fight menelaus for her and die, and he cannot bear the death of his brother. therefore, the war begins with two sets of brothers and two sets of lovers: helen chooses paris because he genuinely loves her, hector allows it because he loves his brother, and agamemnon profits off his brother’s loss because he loves nothing more than power, and the loss is a chance for that. achilles nearly costs agamemnon the war because he’s ready to leave and live his full life thanks to the love of briseis, until his love of patroclus and his grief at his death take that option away. priam gets a speech toward the beginning about there being worse reasons to fight a war than for love. i think this is honestly kind of simplistic and missing the point of what war is in general, but it was a nice scene to play into the theme.

outside of that, other things i enjoyed were odysseus’s narration book-ending the action, because he’s my favorite character of homer’s, if not in troy (i honestly don’t like sean penn in the role, but that’s my own personal cross to bear), the scene around patroclus’ death where eudoros looks on in horror when he thinks it’s achilles and then gives a visible sigh of relief, even as it’s mixed with the horror of patroclus’ death when the helmet is removed and he sees it’s not, the part where agamemnon looks on at patroclus’ funeral and comments how “that boy just won [him] the war,” which was such an asshole thing to say but also honestly what i was thinking, and that one little scene with paris giving the sword of troy to aeneas as a fun little shoutout to the aeneid. i could go into other things i DIDN’T like, but after watching that movie for three fucking hours, i think i’ve put enough time into that as it is. 

coming soon: pointless commentary on the first back to the future and fright night (1985)! get hype!!!

In which I finally write a long ass post about all my grievances with the never ending shenanigans I see in the Iliad tag because I can’t take it anymore and needed to get it out tbh

Things y’all really need to stop doing, in no particular order: • Treating Clytemnestra like a Bad Bitch Feminist Icon #goals because she killed a character you don’t like. Know what she also was? Pretty hypocritical. Half her motive for killing Agamemnon is the mistreatment of their daughter, but guess what, Clytemnestra then goes on to treat 2/3 of her remaining children pretty much like shit. I suppose you could consider Electra to be an unreliable narrator in terms of her relating how coldly she was treated at home, but the facts don’t lie in that Cly let her new hubby Aegisthus pass Electra off to be married to some peasant so that she and her children would die without any power and wouldn’t be able to take revenge. It’s pretty indisputable though that her treatment of her son Orestes was flat out terrible. As a child, Orestes has to go into exile, as it’s implied Aegisthus would have had him killed otherwise. Cly just Lets This Happen. When Orestes returns to murder both her and Aegisthus as instructed by Apollo, Clytemnestra entreats him with a set of pretty flimsy excuses. Here’s a part from The Libation Bearers:

CLYTAEMESTRA Have you no regard for a parent's curse, my son?

ORESTES You brought me to birth and yet you cast me out to misery.

CLYTAEMESTRA No, surely I did not cast you out in sending you to the house of an ally.

ORESTES I was sold in disgrace, though I was born of a free father. CLYTAEMESTRA Then where is the price I got for you? ORESTES I am ashamed to reproach you with that outright.

Furthermore, she attempts to manipulate Orestes by entreating him to spare her because she is his mother, the one who nursed him, yet we know that this wasn’t actually done by her, and since a young age she has been completely absent in his life otherwise. When Orestes finally does kill her, this girl cannot even let it go at that but essentially makes sure he’s haunted by demons for the rest of his life. Talk about #petty, not even Agamemnon took it that far. So this character who's set up as like Badass Mama Bear is actually….not. Post Iphigenia at Aulis Clytemnestra is actually pretty self-serving, but not in the sort of way that should be admired. I think Clytemnestra is a great flawed character. Please no more ‘my perfect queen deserved better’ posts. I’m beggin’ ya. Read more than a summary of like 1/4th of her history and then let’s talk. • So I’m gonna follow this up with my long stewing Agamemnon Apologist rant (you: yikes me: Buckle Up). I’d like to begin this by saying we can all definitely agree that this man is a garbageboy stinkman. No arguing that. I love a good ‘Agamemnon is an asshole’ joke as much as the next guy. HOWEVER, when, when will I be free from posts that act like this character is honestly so completely one dimensional, that jokes about it comprise literally 98% of the tag. Where are the actually interesting meta posts that consider things about him beyond JUST being a dumpster of a man. For example, we know he was at least a half-decent bro. In book 4 of the Iliad, Menelaus basically scrapes his knee and Agamemnon essentially calls a T.O. on the entire war because HIS BROTHER, OK!!! Like yeah, he also includes a hilariously selfish line in that part that Menelaus can’t bite it because then he will be disgraced when he goes home, but the point stands. Further evidence of these having a tight relationship can be found in the Iphigenia at Aulis play. After the two of them have had a savage as hell argument about whether or not to sacrifice Iphigenia, taking some serious pot shots at each other, they have this exchange

MENELAUS I’ve changed, and I’ve changed because I love you, brother. I’ve changed because of my love for my mother’s son.  It’s a natural thing for men with decent hearts to do the decent thing. AGAMEMNON I praise you, Menelaus for these unexpected words, proper words, words truly worthy of you.  Brothers fight because of lust and because of greed in their inheritance. I hate such relationships; they bring bitter pain to all.

 I think Agamemnon’s relationship with Menelaus is actually one of the more interesting ones among the cast because he is both in a way protective yet also very controlling of his brother. Here and Here are a couple of fantastic essays on their dynamic and the way it differs from source to source. While on the subject of the play Iphigenia at Aulis and my favorite problematic fav getting the short end of the stick from fandom, can I just say that the majority of retellings, posts, and so on about this particular event ARE TERRIBLE? I’m so tired of seeing it depicted as though Agamemnon just killed his daughter like some afterthought, possibly while twirling his mustache like a cartoon villain. There is so, SO much more nuance to that scene and it kills the man when I see how no one ever discusses it in favor of just saying lol Agamemnon’s a dick, so anyway. Iphigenia herself is actually one of the best sources we have for the fact Agamemnon probably had more than a grand total of zero good traits. The relationship between the two is obviously a very close one and on the whole we get the sense that, aside from the whole killing his daughter thing (ya) he was actually a good dad. Like an inverse Clytemnestra :,). The scene where Iphigenia first speaks with Agamemnon is particularly telling of what was probably their normal relationship. IPHIGENIA What’s wrong, daddy?  You say you’re happy to see me but your face looks worried! AGAMEMNON A king, darling, a General is always worried. IPHIGENIA Make your worries go away, daddy. From now on, think only of me. AGAMEMNON Yes, my darling. I shall think of nothing else but you from now on IPHIGENIA Well then, get rid of this ugly frown from the face that I love so much! AGAMEMNON There! Oh, what a joy it is to see you, Iphigeneia! IPHIGENIA But… but look at you, father! Full of joy and yet tears flow from your eyes…AGAMEMNON Yes, dear… because our separation will be a long one.

Is he still a completly awful man for having sacrificed her? Yes. Completely. But here’s a few factors that play into this decision that I never see anyone, ever, mention: -It is Agamemnon’s intention to send Iphigenia away, to save herself, at the last minute, but Menelaus intercepts the letter meant to warn her of her fate. -Charismatic Odysseus has a good deal of control over the soldiers at this point and was probably looking to further increase his popularity among them (a consistent theme-- see: when he’s ready to shank his bff Diomedes just to be the only one to bring home a trophy from Troy instead of both of them). One can imply that if Agamemnon didn’t go through it, he would have done it himself -- and Agamemnon knew that (he mentions as much). -Gods are terrifying, my dudes. Treating it as though he could have just said ‘naw’ to Artemis’ order for Iphigenia’s death and gone home expresses a pretty fundamental lack of understanding how the Greeks feared the gods and just what the stakes likely already were by that point. Artemis was already pissed that he killed one of her sacred deer so it wasn’t as though she was just like ‘you can either sacrifice your daughter or go home unscathed’. I’ve only seen one other retelling accurately capture what very likely would have happened if Agamemnon didn’t go through with it: Artemis likely would have retaliated at the disrespect against the men and probably his family. Furthermore, the soldiers had already been stranded at Aulis for months on end-- a mutiny was exceedingly likely if they found out what was going on, one in which where they probably would have harmed not only him but also Clytemnestra and baby Orestes who came with Iphigenia. These two facts are more conjecture, but it’s a pretty plausible estimate and I’ve seen several scholarly essays arrive at the same conclusion.  If you’d actually like to see a depiction of Agamemnon that is both incredibly sympathetic yet does not shy away either from showing how terrible what he did was, please watch the 1977 Iphigenia movie. One of my favorite movies in general. Honestly I feel I could make a giant essay out of My Feelings on this particular subject alone so I’ll wrap it now because I have a lot of other stuff I want to get to, though I’ll include one final pet peeve: the amount of people who call Agamemnon trash because he was Sexist. You know who else was a Meninist? Every single goddamn man in ancient Greece. Okay, I’ll give a pass to characters like Patroclus and Hector when it comes to the women front because all we see is them being pretty decent. But like. Otherwise??? Sure, just because everyone is that way doesn’t make it any less shitty-- I’m not arguing that. But it’s also like reading a novel focused on an entire group of mobsters, but calling out only one of them as Problematic for being a criminal. Like, my dudes...  TL;DR: Agamemnon is a dick jokes are funny and completely deserved but throw in a few posts here and there that actually suggest you might have read more than just Book 1 of the Iliad and nothing else. Character depth is your friend. • That said, for the love of god, stop writing Menelaus like he’s just Agamemnon 2.0. A lot of adaptions do this because they don’t seem to know what to do with his character (I’m lookin’ @ u most of all Troy though he suffers some form of this in almost all film adaptions...) Which is a shame because Menelaus as a character is a lot more (and better) than that. From what we do know, Menelaus was actually (relatively speaking) a pretty chill guy and one of the least problematic out of these assholes (y’know, minus that scene I mentioned above with Iphigenia, but hey...at least he admits he fucked up?). We know that Helen voluntarily chose him to be her husband. We know that Helen wanted to return home to him by the time the Iliad takes place. We know they got back together after the war and more or less lived happily ever after. So why do I keep seein’ all these posts about Helen hating him or about him being another warmonger like Agamemnon. Menelaus was a Decent Dude. Leave him alone :,| • Speaking of Helen, how many times am I going to read “feminist” retellings where she either is totally indifferent to or even wanted the war to happen, where she enjoys watching men die, where she ~reclaims~ her demigoddess power and is A Figure To Be Feared. What Helen is this??? Because in the Iliad, Helen is remorseful af about all the people she’s indirectly responsible for the deaths of. There are more ways to build up and strengthen female characters than to make them just like the men they despise. Just. Saying. I get that people want to free her from the damsel in distress role she’s essentially relegated to, me too, but that is NOT the way to do it. Girl can be strong willed but still have a great amount of empathy. As with essentially every other bullet point above, please just give these characters more than one dimension. • Also, how many times am I gonna have to read about The One Fellow Female (Helen or Clytemnestra usually) who believes Cassandra’s prophecies in order to emphasize like, girl power, or that the author feels sorry for Cass and want to project that onto some other character or something. Dude, she was cursed not to be believed. PERIOD. BY ANYONE. There was no clause in the curse for like “except someone who really thinks you’re swell”. It’s tragic because there are no exceptions. No one believes her. NO ONE. THE END. • Achilles was bi. Bi af (by modern standards, of course). See: Iphigenia, Deidamia, Briseis, Polyxena, Penthesilea… I totally get this movement of wanting to call Achilles gay because for so long he and Patroclus have gotten the ‘just guys bein’ dudes’ treatment from scholars. I think it’s absolutely fantastic that potential element of his character is more widely recognized and accepted now. However, I can’t help but get these really uncomfy biphobia feels when I read all the posts about how gay he is, as if liking women makes his relationship with Patroclus less legitimate. That was one thing about TSOA which also really disappointed me-- it had to pull that yaoi fanfic trope of ‘girls are so icky and gross’ in order to further sell how convinced you should be of the same sex relationship. It’s just, Bad And Not Good. Finally, I feel like y’all are so busy hating Agamemnon and shoving off every single bad character trait into existence onto him, that Achilles is always ultimately depicted as this #relatable teen who did nothing wrong except get a little too upset when his bf died. May I remind you of just a few things Achilles also did: -Indirectly got a lot of men killed by refusing to fight during his quarrel with Agamemnon -Had 12 innocent children killed when Patroclus died -Basically everything involving Troilus. From wikipedia: [Achilles] is struck by the beauty of both [Polyxena and Troilus] and is filled with lust. It is the fleeing Troilus whom swift-footed Achilles catches, dragging him by the hair from his horse. The young prince refuses to yield to Achilles' sexual attentions and somehow escapes, taking refuge in the nearby temple. But the warrior follows him in, and beheads him at the altar before help can arrive. The murderer then mutilates the boy's body. Some pottery shows Achilles, already having killed Troilus, using his victim's severed head as a weapon as Hector and his companions arrive too late to save him. The mourning of the Trojans at Troilus' death is great. -Just straight up fucking murders a guy for making fun of him after he just murdered someone else. "Achilles, who fell in love with the Amazon [Penthesilea] after her death, slew Thersites for jeering at him" I’m sure there’s more receipts like this. So like. Can we throw in a couple posts now and then among the Agamemnon ones about Achilles, who was Problematic for far more reasons than just sulking in his tent :,) ...Okay. I think that’s it. FOR NOW. I guess I’ll end this by saying half of this is just my own opinion and I recognize that people can interpret and retell these stories and characters however they want to. It’s when it becomes so consistent however that people treat it like it is The One True Canon when it’s actually not that my jimmies get a bit rustled. [/END RANT]