The Women of Troy

As a boy I loved old legends, especially those of the Ancient Greeks, in which humans so often seemed like chess pieces moved around at the whim of the gods. They certainly seemed to bear out the Duke of Gloucester’s lament in King Lear, ‘As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport.’

One Christmas, now probably not far short of fifty years ago, my sister gave me a boxed set of Puffin paperbacks by Roger Lancelyn Green, in which he retold a wide selection of old myths. One volume included tales from ancient Egypt, and the antics of their strange gods with those human bodies topped by animals’ or birds’ heads; another recounted the Norse legends, and the grim adventures that befell the people and gods show more of Middle Earth. The ones I liked best, however, were those about the Greek legends, and in particular, Green’s retelling of the Trojan War, in which wily Odysseus and his friend Diomedes contributed just as much to the success as the physical might of Ajax, or the harsh valour of Achilles. I read them over and over again, and thought I knew everything about the Greeks’ ten-year campaign to avenge Paris’s abduction of the beautiful Helen.

Of course, I knew of The Iliad and The Odyssey, composed (according to legend) by the blind minstrel Homer, which stand at the fountainhead of Western literature. It came as quite a surprise, however, when I finally came to read The Iliad to discover that it didn’t relate the whole ten years of the Trojan War, and all the ins and outs of that dreadful conflict. It is, instead, restricted to a period of about eight weeks, towards the end of the war (although, of course, the protagonists did not know that), and focuses primarily on the bitter dispute between Achilles, unrivalled hero of the Greeks, and Agamemnon, overall leader of the Greek forces and brother of Menelaus, from whom Paris had abducted Helen.

That dispute hinged round two young noble women (Briseis and Chryseis) whom the Greeks seized from one of the cities near Troy that they had sacked. Briseis, was given to Achilles, while Chryseis was delivered to Agamemnon. Chryseis was the daughter of a senior priest of Apollo, and her father came to plead with Agamemnon for her release, offering a large ransom in return. Agamemnon, notable for his pride, anger and utter lack of wisdom or humanity, scorned Chryseis’s father, sending him away empty handed. The priest scurries away, praying to Apollo, whom he addresses by various titles, including the apparently innocuous title ‘Lord of Mice’. Seeing his priest treated with such disdain, Apollo vents his rage. We quickly learn that the epithet, ‘Lord of Mice’ refers to his ability to send plague, which was spread throughout the ancient world by rodents. The Greek camp is soon overrun with a virulent plague, which renders far worse casualties than the Trojans had achieved. After consulting various oracles, the wiser Greek leaders persuade Agamemnon to send Chryseis back to her father, and offer huge sacrifices to appease Apollo. He grudgingly does so, but then insists upon seizing Briseis from Achilles to replace her. This so angers Achilles that (‘sulking in his tent’) he withdraws his men from the campaign. Without the ferocious Achilles and his loyal Myrmidons, the Greeks falter on the battlefield, and lose much of the ground they had so painstakingly won over the previous nine years.

Pat Barker’s second novel revisiting this ancient story focuses primarily on Briseis, and tells the story of the aftermath of the fall of Troy from the women’s perspective, picking up from her previous book, The Silence of the Girls. Briseis, had been a princess in her own realm (a city state that fell within the overall domain of Troy), but was captured when her city was sacked by the Greeks, and dragged back to their camp. Terrified, and unsure whether she will even survive the first night, she finds herself given to Achilles. In the Roger Lancelyn Green version that I read as a boy, it was merely stated that she was passed to him as a maidservant. Barker shuns any such euphemism, and makes it abundantly clear that Briseis’s future will be as a sexual plaything of Achilles, on call whenever required. Barker’s Briseis is a great character. Caught in a dreadful predicament, she remains strong and resourceful, emerging with far more dignity than her cruel and petulant captors.

Where Barker excels is in taking a story with which her readers are already familiar, and successfully reversing the perspective while retaining all the immediacy and draw of the plot. Anyone familiar with the story of Troy knows what is about to happen, and how the different fates of the principal characters will play out. Despite that, the reader is hooked immediately, and drawn in to Briseis’s story. The book races along, driven by Barker’s clear prose.

The book is a dazzling success. show less

This excellent sequel to The Silence of the Girls continues the saga of the women of Troy in the aftermath of the war. Briseis, given to Achilles as a battle reward, has outlived him and his devoted friend Patroclus, and was made the wife of a Greek leader at the direction of the Greek hero before his death. This raises her status above that of the other Trojan women, most of who serve as slaves to the restless surviving Greek fighters, who await the changing of the wind that will send them home. The other narrator is Pyrrhus, the teenage son of Achilles, who has murdered Priam, King of Troy, in a most brutal manner and whose act is presumed responsible for the God-sent endless winds that disturb the camp. Surprisingly enough, there are show more no gods in this tale, and some of the company and the Trojan women lack belief in them at all. Cassandra, Hecuba, Helen, and the prophet Calchas all speak their truths and play their roles as the tragic chorus. This is a cornerstone of interpretation of the post-drama and aftermath of literally the most important conflict ever documented, as the author focuses on the stories that Homer and the Greek dramatists have neglected to tell.

Quote: "It was one of those moments that I think everyone experiences - and they don't have to be dramatic - when things begin to change; and you know there's no point ruminating about it, because thinking isn't going to help you understand. You're not ready to understand it yet; you have to live your way into the meaning." show less

Barker picks up the narrative she began in The Silence of the Girls, the story of Briseis, a Trojan queen awarded to Achilles as a prize of honor. After Achilles's death, she was given to one of his captains, Alcimus, a kind and honorable man who is happy to marry the woman carrying the great Greek warrior's child. As a wife, Briseis has a measure of privilege and freedom not granted to the other captive women, but she is still watched and limited in her actions. She is also the target of jealousy from Achilles's son Pyrrhus. Although he never met his father, Pyrrhus has inherited his sword and shield and the command of a large number of troops. He is lauded for killing the Trojan king Priam, but rumor has it that this wasn't exactly a show more clean, honorable kill but more of a botched butchering. Pyrrhus's insecurities often erupt into cruelty. One such act is his edict that Priam's body be tossed on the shore and left to the birds, the animals, and the weather rather than being granted the burial customary for his status. Pyrrhus is sensitive to any criticism that might suggest that he is not worthy of being Achilles's son--and, of course, concerned that a new brother might outshine him in time.

Briseis's relative freedom of mobility allows her to visit the captive women's quarters and huts. Many of the enslaved women have been relegated to lowly tasks in the camp hospital or laundry, or to being used by the soldiers. Briseis visits her friend Ritsa, who now works in the hospital, and the fallen Trojan royals, including Andromache, Hecuba and Cassandra. She also forms a hate/love relationship with Amina, a slave who has been assigned to accompany her whenever she leaves the house. Amina appears to be a withdrawn, quiet girl, but a fire burns within her heart, and she draws Briseis dangerously close to the flames.

I was totally engrossed in this story and in Briseis's ability to act while remaining within the bounds of her captive role. I am sure there will be a third installment, since her child has not yet been born at the book's conclusion (and, of course, we all know that Barker loves trilogies!) show less

The Women of Troy - Barker
5 stars

Troy has fallen. Achilles is dead. Priam is dead. And the winds, those interminable winds, trap the victorious Greeks in a foreign land.

Barker continues this story with a brilliant feminist perspective in Breseis’ sharply observant voice. Married to Alcimas and no longer a slave, Breseis is uniquely positioned to interact with all of the remaining Trojan women; Hecuba, Cassandra, Andromache, as well as more common slave girls. Even the much despised Helen. She doesn’t shrink from the ugly reality. “We women are peculiar creatures. We tend not to love those who murder our families.”

Just as brilliantly, Barker portrays the dangerous mental anguish of Achilles’ son, the 16 year old Pyrrhus. show more Beginning with Pyrrhus in the belly of the horse, “Inside the horse’s gut: heat, darkness, sweat, fear. They’re crammed in, packed tight as olives in a jar.” Pyrrhus is an unstable powder keg. Given the violence of his actions, Barker paints him as a surprisingly pitiable character.

The wind was very nearly a character in its own right throughout this novel. Strangely, a warm wind was blowing in Southern California while I was reading it. I was totally immersed in this story. show less

In this follow-up to The Silence of the Girls, Pat Barker continues the story of Briseis, a former slave to Achilles who is pregnant with the late Achilles’s child. It opens with the Greeks inside the Trojan Horse. The battle that follows finds the Greeks victorious, and many women of Troy taken captive, including the famous and beautiful Helen. The Trojan women are now slaves to the victorious Greek fighters. Briseis is now married to Alcimus, so she is no longer a slave, but understands their sufferings, since she was in the same position not long ago. She tries to enhance the conditions for the remaining women. Winds are unfavorable, so the Greeks are unable to sail home with their spoils of war.

Though primarily focused on the show more women, the men are not ignored. These men are necessary to provide information on events the women would not have witnessed. Calchus, a seer, is highlighted, as is Pyrrhus, teenage son of Achilles. Pyrhhus takes revenge on King Priam (who killed Achilles in a previous battle). After killing Priam, he drags his corpse around the camp. The women get involved in attempting to bury Priam, and initially they are not suspected (because they are women and are not expected to take any initiative). Cassandra, Hecuba, Helen, and Andromache (and others) are all allowed to speak in Barker’s version, whereas the women were silent in the stories of Homer and the Greek dramatists.

Briseis is a bright and resourceful woman, using her skills to help the women by setting up smokescreens and planning diversions that will keep the women out of trouble. The beauty of this story is that it builds on a familiar tale, adding texture and swapping the viewpoint, while preserving the basics of the plot. Those familiar with the fall of Troy already know how the story transpires and the eventual fate of the main characters, but even so, the story is compelling, and it flows beautifully. It is helpful to be familiar with the basic plotlines and characters of the Iliad and the Odyssey in order to fully appreciate this novel. I liked it even more than The Silence of the Girls, which I also recommend. Based on how this book ends, I expect there will be a third novel. show less

The walls of Troy have fallen and the renegade Helen is returned to her husband but all is not well. The Gods are offended and a howling gale means the Greeks cannot return home. The men are fighting each other and the women are slaves or prizes worth little. Briseis is pregnant with the child of Achilles but is married off to Alcimus, one of the Greek leaders, she must try to help the women of Troy as best she can, even though revenge is the order of the day.
The previous novel by Barker, The Silence of the Girls, was wonderful and this just carries on. Each women has her own story, her own destiny and her own way of surviving but together their narratives weave an alternative to the great end to the war. The trend for female show more re-imaginings of classical myths is showing no signs of abating but is also producing some amazing writing. This is a brilliant novelist at her best. show less

The Women of Troy examines the grim realities of Bronze Age slavery wherein the victors kill their opponent's men and enslave their women and children. It is the second book in Booker winner Pat Barker's retelling of the Trojan War from a feminist perspective. The first novel, The Silence of the Girls, recounts Homer's Iliad from the point of view of Briseis, who Achilles selected to be his slave and concubine, his trophy prize for his achievements in battle. The second book draws from Euripede's play, Trojan Women.

Briseis's viewpoint remains dominant in The Women of Troy. She is no longer a slave because she was pregnant by Achilles and, to protect the child, was married to his chief lieutenant after his death. Consequently, she uses show more her "wife" status to roam the camps freely to help the other women adjust to their new roles as slaves and concubines to the men who had murdered their families. Throughout the novel, Barker's sparse tight prose causes the characters of Hecuba, Cassandra, Andromede, and Helen to come to life.

Barker also includes the voice of Pyrrhus, Achilles's 16-year-old son, to advance the narrative. Pyrrhus begins the tale from the belly of the Trojan horse. His father has died before his arrival, and he is desperate to prove himself worthy as a warrior. As a result, he actively participates in the brutal sacking of Troy, kills King Priam, and refuses to grant him a proper burial. These acts have angered to Gods who have stopped the winds so the Greeks could not return home.

Pyrrhus's hubris stands in stark contrast to the women's suffering. The novel revolves around daily life in the camps, the women's anguish, their attempts to maintain some sense of agency by thwarting Pyrrhus and gaining a proper burial for Priam.

The book had a sad, almost dystopian quality. The goal of Bronze age slavery is a kind of ethnocide, the physical destruction of the place and cultural destruction of the survivors. I kept wondering how women in this situation raise the children of their Greek masters. Do they secretly tell them the stories of Troy and their ancestors? And through them try to keep their cultures alive? How do they survive? It was a thought-provoking book. I recommend it, especially if you are interested in the ancient world. show less