it would only take a quick peek at my goodreads profile to see that i've been gone here for what can be said to be a long time. call it university life in general: certainly, i've read less than i have before, and have only gotten back here to try and kickstart a habit in the most brute force way possibly by challenging myself to resume my old habit and read a hundred books per year.

that being said, despite being busy, i have found the time to take up some light reading here and there. in my hiatus from goodreads, i read the song of achilles and thought it amazing, but i left it at that. i didn't articulate why it was good or why i found it so enjoyable, because i left this platform long ago and reviews are no longer my thing, really.

and yet here i am, back to goodreads and back to reviewing things. why bother writing up all these words for an audience who'd probably never even read it? still, i'm back, and that's all there is. when i tried to add this to my read shelf, i thought "why not read it again?" and so i spent the latter half of a day in just taking myself back to the emotions and the narrative that so bewitched my younger self.

this is, in reality, a story we all know already. even if you haven't read homer, you know how this narrative starts, goes, and ends; why bother then with a retelling? perhaps in answer to that question, miller presents us with an utter gem of a book that tells us why not?

there's so many things i can say here: the lyricism of the prose, the atmosphere that makes you feel like you're in some timeless land (and, to be fair, myths are—and will always be—timeless), the way it resonates deep in your soul, making you ache for a love that is close to divine and yet human all at once, perhaps all too human.

this book is a treasure, in the way that it will make you feel, and that is, in essence, what literature is for. for all that and more, miller has gifted us with something invaluable. what is even more invaluable, perhaps, is the way that this book asks us questions about our legacy, about memory, about how we would like to be remembered and the actions we should choose to take to leave behind a touching story, a legend, a myth.

perhaps that, too, is why i write these reviews: to look back and tell myself that this was what i thought, to remember younger and younger versions of myself as i stumble through this world and try my best to keep up. i will probably not be great, much as i wish to be; i'll probably not be legendary.

but i will have my memories, and i'll be content, because as patroclus says:

i am made of memories.