The Best of The Achaeans

I’m already 3 essays in and I haven’t even cracked open the book yet. This is a bad sign. I promise we’ll get moving, we might even make it all the way through Book 1 of 24 today.

What makes a person great? Why should one person follow another? If someone has put their life in your hands what do you owe them? If you hold a place of power, how do you deal with threats, real and perceived, to that authority? Before I discuss the rage of Achilles, I’d like to consider Agamemnon.

Agamemnon is the acknowledged leader of the Achaean forces, the king of Mycenae, the older brother of Menelaus, and husband to Helen’s sister Clytemnestra. Consequently he is also the brother in law of Helen twice over, and therefore has a personal stake in the outcome of Operation Trojan Storm by virtue of defending his family’s honor. According to Homer, Agamemnon also brought the largest number of troops directly under his command. The famously boring catalog of ships in Book 2 reports Agamemnon brought 100 ships out of the 1186 launched, or somewhere north of 8% of the total force. We don’t know the exact manner in which he was chosen as the leader, but it stands to reason that a combination of primogeniture within the House of Atreus, and the wealth and authority necessary to summon the most men and ships would mark him as the obvious choice to lead. The fact that he is the scion of the House of Atreus signals something about his ambition and willingness to go to extreme lengths to obtain and maintain power. IYKYK.

I’m gonna go back on what I said previously and drag in some outside information into my discussion. Like parts of the Book of Genesis, the tale of Agamemnon’s forebears is sordid to say the least. Tantalus, the patriarch of the clan, murdered his own son Pelops and fed him to the Olympian gods in an effort to test their omniscience. Echos of Cain and Abel or a twisted version of Abraham and Isaac? Some of the Olympians failed to recognize the murder in a timely manner, but eventually learned the truth and brought Pelops back to life and Tantalus earned himself a famous eternal punishment from which we derive the word tantalize. 

You’d think Pelops, having been resurrected by the gods and given a second chance at life, would grow up to be an upstanding citizen; he doesn’t. He sabotages the chariot of his would-be father in law to ensure victory in the race to win the hand of his wife.  Pelops and Hippodamia have two rival sons Atreus and Thyestes. Atreus is later tricked by his wife who is having an affair with his brother and loses his position as king. Atreus retaliates by killing his nephews and feeding them to his brother, it worked for grandad right? Thyestes is then deposed from his rule by virtue of having defiled himself by eating human flesh, and somehow Atreus regains his kingship over Mycenae. Atreus is then murdered by his nephew Aegisthus who is the son of Thyestes by his own daughter Pelopia, but is survived by his own two sons Agamemnon and Menelaus. These are the brothers leading this expedition. Perhaps Paris didn’t abduct Helen so much as rescue her? There’s something poetic about a family so devoid of filial piety, heirs to such an egregious violation of xenia, leading an expedition to ostensibly defend the natural order of marriage, family, and guest-host relationships. The ancient Greeks definitely enjoyed themselves a bit of irony didn’t they?  The point is Agamemnon bears the weight and trauma of a long history of ruthlessly ambitious people and one challenges him at one’s peril.

However he landed the gig as leader of the Achaeans, Agamemnon has maintained his position for 9 years when The Iliad opens. The bard asks the muses to tell us about the rage of Achilles, and the proximal cause is a dispute between Agamemnon and Achilles. What were they fighting over? One day a priest of Apollo, a man named Chryses, shows up at the Greek camp and offers to invoke the aid of the god he serves in their cause, to give them “Priam’s city to plunder, then safe passage home” in exchange for one thing. He wants his daughter back. It turns out his daughter, Chryseis, was taken prisoner during a raid by the Greeks and like any father, he wants to bring her back home. 

Take a moment to consider the offer. Apollo, among other things, is the god of plague, and would be a great ally for bringing down a city that has held out against a siege for 9 long years. This sounds like a great deal to the army and they call out “Respect the priest! Accept the shining ransom!” Let’s end this thing, win, and go home. The next line in the Fagles translation is, “But it brought no joy to the heart of Agamemnon”. Why not? Because Chryseis is his concubine, his war prize, given to him by the army as a sign of honor. Timé. There it is.

 Agamemnon has a choice to possibly bring the war to a swift and satisfactory end, but to do so he must sacrifice a portion of his personal honor. To you and I this probably seems like a no brainer, any sane half-witted person could easily see that to liberate a single slave and return her to her father in exchange for the riches and accolades that would come from the conquest of Troy is an incredible value proposition.  Agamemnon doesn’t see it that way. What happens if he gives up his honor, and the priest refuses to implore Apollo on behalf of the Argive forces? What happens if, as has happened to priests throughout history, despite his best efforts the gods ignore his request? Gods, are notorious for their unwillingness to bend their will to that of men: “thy will be done”. For Agamemnon it appears the risk/benefit calculation favors keeping the girl. I mean, what sort of king commanding 100,000 warriors gives in to the demands of a single priest of Apollo coming from a city that his army has already sacked? That doesn’t jive with the M.O. of the House of Atreus at all. Agamemnon does what leaders often must do, he makes an unpopular decision. 

Time has a way of making a genius or a fool of those who make unpopular decisions. In the case of Agamemnon, judgment arrives swiftly. It turns out Chryses had some real pull with “the distant deadly archer”, he of the golden locks and silver bow. Plague reigns down on the Greeks. “First he went for the mules and circling dogs but then, launching a piercing shaft at the men themselves, he cut them down in droves – and the corpse fires burned on, night and day, no end in sight. Nine days the arrows of god cut through the army”. The historic reality of warfare is that “camp fever” and other plagues often struck armies. Appreciation for the roles logistics and sanitation play in protracted campaigns remains a frequent theme among military quagmires. For contemporary evidence see: lack of body armor, and burn pit exposure from American campaigns in Iraq and Afghanistan in the 21st century. Thus, the reader is at liberty to doubt the divine intervention Homer describes, and there may have even been debate among the Achaean ranks, but the bottom line is plague followed fast upon the heels of Agamemnon’s rejection of Chryses’ request. Had something like this happened before during their 9 year stay on the shores of the Trojan plain? We don’t know. What we do know is that one man decided he’d seen enough and rallied the whole force to address the carnage. The swift runner Achilles.

He proclaims that in light of the stalemate of the war itself and now the plague ravaging the camp perhaps they should all head home. After 9 long years, this is the straw that threatens the spinal integrity of the camel. By summoning the whole army, not just the Myrmidons he leads, and by discussing abandoning the cause before the original objective is obtained, Achilles sets himself up as a threat to Agamemnon’s role as leader. If giving up one woman in exchange for a quick and definitive victory was an unacceptable affront to his timé, what is Agamemnon going to think of this? 

But wait. There’s more. Before making a decision Achilles proposes they consult with Calchas, the best among the army chaplains at divining the will of the gods. Perhaps they don’t need to head home, maybe it’s not Apollo bringing on the plague, perhaps there’s a way to appease the gods and continue the fight? In making this proposal Achilles sets himself opposite Agamemnon in seeking divine help rather than rebuffing it. Like a clever politician Achilles makes certain that everyone knows he is a pious leader and will lead with the help of the gods. 2 Corinthians right? Calchas returns from watching the birds fly and lets everyone know that the plague can be reversed, but it’s gonna make one powerful guy very angry, “For there is a man I will enrage—I see it now— a powerful man who lords it over all the Argives, one the Achaeans must obey … A mighty king, raging against an inferior, is too strong. Even if he can swallow down his wrath today, still he will nurse the burning in his chest until, sooner or later, he sends it bursting forth. Consider it closely, Achilles. Will you save me?” In the short term this line has obvious meaning, its also worth keeping this exchange in mind during the 23 books of the Iliad that follow the ensuing exchange.

Achilles reassures him, “Courage! Out with it now, Calchas. Reveal the will of god, whatever you may know. And I swear by Apollo dear to Zeus, the power you pray to, Calchas, when you reveal god’s will to the Argives—no one, not while I am alive and see the light on earth, no one will lay his heavy hands on you by the hollow ships. None among all the armies. Not even if you mean Agamemnon here who now claims to be, by far, the best of the Achaeans.” 

This guy is a smooth operator. Imagine the prestige Achilles stands to gain in this situation. To bring an end to a plague and protect the seer who tells them how to make it happen in front of the entire army? If he pulls this off it would strike me as a reasonable possibility a legitimate schism opens within the army. 

It gets worse. We all know what’s coming. The answer is simple. Agamemnon must give Chryseis back to her father and make amends with Apollo. Not only must he give the girl back, but they must also take her back to her home island themselves and sacrifice 100 bulls to Apollo while they’re there. To reiterate: by refusing to give the girl back initially Agamemnon appears to have not only cost them clear victory against Troy and safe passage home (fans of the Oresteia and Odyssey will appreciate this second promise), but they’ve now endured countless losses in men and livestock, and in order to make it stop Agamemnon must now give up the girl, and 100 bulls, and send her back with an armada of Argive ships. That is an enormous slice of humble pie full of the genus corvus. 

Agamemnon loses it, “Seer of misery! Never a word that works to my advantage! Always misery warms your heart, your prophecies—never a word of profit said or brought to pass”. However, Agamemnon didn’t become a king of kings for nothing, and he sees a silver lining to these storm clouds. He agrees to give up Chryseis, despite the claim that he loves her more than he loves his actual wife, and offer the sacrifices in order to end the plague on one condition. “But I am willing to give her back, even so, if that is best for all. What I really want is to keep my people safe, not see them dying. But fetch me another prize, and straight off too, else I alone of the Argives go without my honor. That would be a disgrace. You are all witness, look—my prize is snatched away!”

Once again the zero sum game of timé alters what you and I may consider to be the simple navigation of this situation. The army hasn’t just been sitting around for 9 years. They’ve been raiding and plundering all around the Aegean. This activity not only supplies the army’s needs, and deprives Troy and her allies of supplies, but enriches all those taking part in Operation Trojan Storm. Timé and Kleos. Recall that timé is more than the monetary value of the plunder itself, but the fact that one’s comrade’s in arms have given it to you and it is a physical embodiment of the esteem in which they hold you. Essentially, Agamemnon is unwilling to lose any honor himself and sacrifice for the good of the whole unless he can take from another. 

Achilles sees the potential domino effect here, “Just how, Agamemnon, great field marshal … most grasping man alive, how can the generous Argives give you prizes now? I know of no troves of treasure, piled, lying idle, anywhere. Whatever we dragged from towns we plundered, all’s been portioned out. But collect it, call it back from the rank and file? That would be the disgrace”. Achilles has once again staked out the moral high ground. He’s defending the system they all know and accept, the system that’s kept them on the beach for nearly a decade and to suddenly seek to renegotiate the terms of service is some wireless service provider / cable company level bullshit. There’s a social contract here and this aggression will not stand man. Perhaps this is blatant populism on Achilles’ part. Perhaps this is in fact a power play aimed directly at Agamemnon. Perhaps this is an attempt to render simple retributive justice: after all they’re in this situation, both the plague and the war as a whole, on account of the Atrides, the Atreus brothers, and the necessary sacrifice is just recompense for poor leadership. 

Achilles has walked right into Agamemnon’s trap, “Oh no, you won’t get past me, take me in that way! What do you want? To cling to your own prize while I sit calmly by—empty-handed here? Is that why you order me to give her back? No—if our generous Argives will give me a prize, a match for my desires, equal to what I’ve lost, well and good. But if they give me nothing I will take a prize myself—your own, or Ajax’ or Odysseus’ prize—I’ll commandeer her myself and let that man I go to visit choke with rage!”. And there it is. 

One very clear interpretation of these lines is that Agamemnon reveals himself as a petty tyrant so concerned with his own stature that he is willing to assert his dominance by taking what he wants from whomever he wants, everyone knows what Agamemnon is threatening. Consider what he’s just said more closely: we all know Achilles as the greatest of the Greek warriors, but behind him in greatness comes Ajax, and history knows Odysseus as the intelligent, creative, and clever hero of the Trojan Horse that finally wins the war. Agamemnon wants to make it clear that he IS the undisputed leader, the most powerful, the best of the Achaeans. There’s the Son of Atreus we knew was in there. Alternatively, he’s positioned himself to retake the moral high ground and call Achilles’ bluff. If Achilles is going to call the whole army together, align himself with the will of the gods and the good of the common soldier, and propose to lead them out of this mess, then perhaps he should have some skin in the game as well? Agamemnon knows the weight of leadership. He’s borne it for nearly a decade. He must have some redeeming features or interpersonal skills to gather and launch such a large coalition and keep an army in the field for this long. Achilles may be the son of a goddess. Achilles may be a great fighter. He may be ambitious. His hand looked good after the flop, and the turn, but is he ready to navigate the currents of the river? Or will he “choke with rage”? 

To twist the knife Agamemnon even offers to make Achilles the leader of the expedition to make amends, “Let one of the leading captains take command. Ajax, Idomeneus, trusty Odysseus or you, Achilles, you—the most violent man alive—so you can perform the rites for us and calm the god yourself.” 

Achilles either finally sees Agamemnon for who he truly is, or is shocked by the sudden reversal of fortune his play for power has taken. He launches a genuinely fantastic war of words in lines 149-244. Achilles ends the exchange with an oath, really a threat, “someday, I swear, a yearning for Achilles will strike Achaea’s sons and all your armies! But then, Atrides, harrowed as you will be, nothing you do can save you—not when your hordes of fighters drop and die, cut down by the hands of man-killing Hector! Then—then you will tear your heart out, desperate, raging that you disgraced the best of the Achaeans!”

Achilles storms off to his camp. The expedition to return Chryseis launches under Odysseus and is successful. Predictably, Agamemnon choses to take his replacement prize from Achilles, a woman with the confusingly similar name of Briseis. Achilles is tempted to take his anger out on Agamemnon directly, but is restrained by Athena. Achilles does not resist when Agamemnon sends his men to confiscate Briseis. He welcomes them hospitably and puts on a brave face, but in truth he overflows with anger, hatred, and frustration. He cries to his mother, and implores her to use some ancient leverage she holds over Zeus to have his prediction come true. She does so, and the carnage that constitutes the majority of The Iliad’s content follows. 

There are any number of ways to interpret this sequence of events. As a thoroughly modern reader the first time I encountered the rage of Achilles I couldn’t help but be underwhelmed. He and Agamemnon both struck me as petulant children. The whole thing seemed monumentally stupid. Fighting over who has to give up the slave girl they’re currently raping struck me as the most immoral, unjustifiable conflict imaginable. How is this great literature? To an extent I still feel that way. However, once I was able to contextualize the objectionable details and remind myself this is a 3000 year-old work of fiction I began to appreciate the more natural aspects of the conflict. Curing the plague, the support of the army, and the women are proxy fights. Homer has his characters say the quiet part loud three times in Book one. The root conflict is who is “the best of the Achaeans”?

During the war of words Achilles makes the case that he is the one who has risked his life and is the reason the army has grown rich while Agamemnon has stayed back at camp drinking with his buddies reaping the rewards without incurring any of the risk. Homer and the remainder of materials about the epic do not offer significant contradiction to this description of either man. Achilles is widely, repeatedly, frankly acknowledged as the unrivaled Achaean champion on the battlefield. In a story about a war, what grounds are there to say he is not the best? Beowulf’s got nothing on the swift runner.

On the other hand Agamemnon has proven he actually commands the loyalty of the army. He did exactly what he said he would do. He made the unpopular decision that cost countless lives and he was still able to send other men to take what he wanted when he wanted it from the most dangerous man in the Mediterranean basin. If the actual possession and exercise of power doesn’t make you the greatest in a decade-long expedition of 100,000 men, then what does? Agamemnon might be the type of guy who could shoot a guy on 5th avenue or lead an insurrection against his own government and not get convicted.

With all this in mind is there a short answer to the question: why is Achilles so angry? Maybe. I think so.  Achilles is a human conscious of his mortality engaged in the deadly serious business of seeking immortality, honor, and glory through the greatness of his deeds and his ambition is being thwarted by a man he perceives to be a coward. I think a synth pop duo from the 1980’s nailed it when they said, “Welcome to your life, there’s no turning back… It’s my own design, It’s my own remorse, Help me to decide, Help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure, Nothing ever lasts forever, Everybody wants to rule the world…I can’t stand this indecision married with a lack of vision, Everybody wants to rule the world“. Achilles, like all of us, wants a measure of control over his life that he is denied, and it gets to him. We all have our emo moments right? His just happens to take on genuinely epic proportions.

 Is he justified in this? If so, is his decision to invoke the gods’ aid to prove his point acceptable? Is his quest for greatness anything more than vanity? Is it misguided? Will winning glory and renown or even control satisfy his rage? Do you find his situation relatable at all? 

Within the cultural context of the story’s composition the conflict for power and control is well developed and works on several levels, but even to a modern audience that rejects the barbaric customs of slavery, human trafficking, and sexual servitude, I think the roots of the rage of Achilles ring true. The fact remains that Homer has cast both Achilles and Agamemnon in an unfavorable light. He has shown and will continue to demonstrate in almost mind numbing detail the externalities of their decisions. Perhaps this is the modern in me, but whether or not Homer intended it, I think he answers the questions about what makes one great and admirable, and what actually soothes existential dread like Achilles’ in a way that a modern reader will appreciate without tons of cultural context. I promise I’ll get there. Hopefully it will be worth it.