Silence of the Girls

"And I do what countless women before me have been forced to do. I spread my legs for the man who killed my husband and my brothers."

Of course you don't understand, Briseis tells us. You've never been a slave.

This book. This beautiful, feminist book. It reminded me what I've learned from reading Circe and Song of Achilles in recent years: I don't want to read Greek mythology, but I will devour the stories retold in modern times.

As if you couldn't tell from the quote above, life is rough for the women of Troy, captured as the spoils of the Trojan war. Briseis lives in luxury until Achilles and his men destroy their city. She becomes Achilles' slave and has to share a bed with him, even after watching him murder her husband and brothers. That tortured existence and her yearning for home defines this novel. Why didn't she run? Why didn't she escape when she had the chance?

Probably for the third time, she'll remind you: you don't understand because you've never been a slave.

Life for these women is not that much different than it has been for women for centuries and longer. We are, at our best, defined by men; our stories are intricately intertwined with theirs. The stories of the women in this book are told in The Odyssey and The Iliad, but they are afterthoughts. They are background music. They are window dressing. Here in Pat Barker's pages, they get to finally tell their story to the world.

I loved this book. I love the way it's written and I love the Briseis getting her chance to tell her tale. It's not a happy ending, but it never was for these women, was it? But, in just the telling of it from her perspective, at least an ounce of power is granted.