Commonly, the Greeks used the term ‘hamartia’ to describe a tragic flaw in the personality or character of a hero, eventually leading to their downfall or demise. However, the word also has roots in the Greek concept of ‘fate’, in that our destinies are determined not by the will of the gods, but by our own personalities and characteristics.
Miller brings to the reader an Achilles who has all the necessary potential to be a true Grecian hero. His mortal blood infused with the very ichor of the gods, he is endowed with immeasurable beauty, unparalleled skill in combat, and a deftness in battle that awards him his destiny as the greatest warrior in all of Greece. It is, however, this seemingly blessed demigod status that awards him what we later recognise as his hamartia: an unshakeable sense of pride and superiority above ordinary men, complete with an explosive, godlike fury ready to erupt when either quality is brought into question. Achilles’s metaphorical heel, so to speak, is his reputation, and his dedication to establishing his glorious legacy as the boy who led the Achaean army to the gates of Troy, brought the mighty city to its knees, and reclaimed Helen of Sparta from the clutches of her abductor, Paris.
True to the concept of hamartia, Achilles’s tragic flaw is indeed deeply intertwined with his fate. His refusal to bow beneath Agamemnon’s rule as general of the army shows the first green shoots of arrogance, the seeds of which have always been dutifully tended by both Achilles and his mother, Thetis. Later, his inability to forgive Agamemnon’s affronts end up blinding him with hatred and twisting his perception of his own destiny. He no longer believes in fighting for honour or the greater good, as he did initially before he left for Troy. Instead he allows, and actively prays for, the massacre of the Myrmidons for the sake of teaching them a lesson whilst he nurses his damaged pride. His selfishness is unsurprising- his Olympic kin often made use of plagues, pestilences and natural disasters to punish whatever mortals they deemed to have disrespected them. Miller even provides the reader with a direct comparison between Achilles and the gods: Apollo sends a plague to decimate the Myrmidons as punishment for Agamemnon defiling one of his priestesses. Shortly after, Agamemnon and Achilles argue over who has the right to claim Briseis as their war prize and concubine, inspiring Achilles to withdraw from the fighting out of spite and allow the Trojans to slaughter the Myrmidons, knowing they will never win the war without him.
However, one must bear in mind that, as Miller so eloquently puts it, Achilles is not simply god or mortal – he is ‘the boy who was both’. Despite the undeniable pitfalls of his divinity, it is arguably his human flaws that contribute the most to his downfall. His greed and selfishness prevent him from being able to commit a true and necessary sacrifice. Perhaps it is the knowledge that his life will be a short one that pushes Achilles to fight so hard for the glory that Thetis has promised him, and perhaps the intensity of his relationship with Patroclus stems from the fact that Achilles knows he cannot have both. The man he loves and the destiny he craves do not come hand in hand but, despite his mother’s warnings, he creates a clumsy amalgamation of the two in an attempt to create some sort of equilibrium where everything he loves is his forever, with no sacrifice required. However, in true ironic form, his interweaving of his two ‘fates’ culminates in one major tragedy: in failing to choose one, he loses both. Patroclus dies trying to restore Achilles’s tarnished reputation and their spirits are separated in the afterlife. Achilles’s desired legacy as a glorious warrior and hero of Greece is never achieved. Instead, he gains notoriety for his savage pride, the desecration of Hector’s body, and his bloodthirsty spirit lingering at the site of his burial, demanding sacrifice – ironically so, considering that was the one thing Achilles could never bring himself to do. He does not achieve his long and happy future with the man he loves – at least not until divine intervention occurs in the form of a surprisingly pitiful Thetis.
Overall, Miller’s characterisation of Achilles does not differ greatly from that of Homer – he remains a tragic hero fatally let down by the flaws in his own character. However, Miller expertly furthers the sense of tragedy through her reassessment and exploration of the intense love between Achilles and Patroclus. In her interpretation of the two, Patroclus is more than just a beloved companion: he is the tether to Achilles’s mortal side. His love keeps the flame of Achilles’s humanity burning bright, and once he is gone, Achilles is unable to cling to his mortality and instead becomes a raging, vengeful god. His actions to avenge Patroclus’s death see Thetis’s prophecy come true. In this sense, then, perhaps Achilles’s biggest flaws were not greediness, selfishness, or spite. Perhaps it was his uniquely mortal ability to love unconditionally – to know ‘the neverending ache of love and sorrow’, which ultimately lead to his death.
Abbie Roberts 