i need the guy from the iliad carnally.
aka: my wife is a Bronze Age warrior from Western civilisation's most significant piece of literature.
Last month, I got a used copy of the Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition of The Iliad; translated by Robert Fagles. I now sleep with two copies of the Iliad beside my pillow at night, the other being Emily Wilson's translation. I suppose this means I am now in the same fandom with a certain legendary Macedonian king and conqueror.
This dude, Alexander the Great, was so obsessed with The Iliad that he kept a copy under his pillow and considered Achilles his personal hero. The fact that one of history's most successful military commanders was sleeping with his favorite fanfiction is both validating and deeply amusing. Here we are, separated by over two millennia, united by our mutual fixation on Homer's greatest hits. Though I suppose Alexander had the resources to actually live out his epic war fantasies, while I'm stuck making do with writing smut about Homer's characters.
For the past few months, The Iliad has been what the internet and the DSM-5 calls my "special interest". For those unfamiliar with the term, a special interest is an intense, focused fascination with a particular topic that becomes a central part of your life--often associated with autism and ADHD. And indeed, my interests are certainly special.
While Achilles was Alex's beloved, my heart belongs to someone else entirely: Diomedes, son of Tydeus. If Achilles is the flashy sports car of Homeric heroes, Diomedes is the reliable, underrated pickup truck or SUV. Actually, I don't think this is a suitable metaphor considering that I hate most truck and SUV drivers that I encounter on the road. (I hope the truck guy who aggressively honked at me when I stopped for a car turning left ON A SINGLE-LANE ROAD goes and fucks himself).
Point is, I need Diomedes carnally. One may even call me a Homer-sexual.
who is diomedes?
Diomedes is one of the most prominent Greek warriors in The Iliad, though he's often overshadowed by the more famous, pretty boy twink Achilles. He is the king of Argos, part of the younger generation of heroes (his father Tydeus died in an earlier war), and arguably the most competent leader among the Greeks. Despite being the youngest among the Achaean kings, he is one of the most experienced in warfare, having participated in the successful siege of Thebes with the other Epigoni (sons of the seven kings who previously failed to capture Thebes). While Achilles sulked during his strike, Diomedes carved his way through the Trojans and wounded both Aphrodite and Ares with Athena's help.
In the broader Epic Cycle--the collection of poems and stories that tell the complete story of the Trojan War--Diomedes is involved in some of the most crucial missions. He and his trusty (fuck) buddy Odysseus joined forces during the gathering of the Greek army to fetch Achilles from Skyros, and capture Iphigenia, Agamemnon's daughter, to sacrifice her at Aulis. During the Trojan War itself, the Little Iliad recounts their side quests to steal the Palladium and retrieve Achilles' son Neoptolemus to destroy Troy.
Following the fall of Troy, Diomedes is one of the few heroes who makes it home safely after the war, though his story doesn't end there. Some sources say that in revenge for stabbing her, Aphrodite tempted his wife Aegiale to adultery and treason (Dio, I would never cheat on you baby). Diomedes left Argos as a result and never returned. Various later myths give him adventures in Italy and even deification, because apparently being really good at your job in ancient Greece could literally make you a god.
the almost perfect hero.
Ancient sources often regarded Diomedes as the perfect embodiment of heroic values--essentially, what Achilles could have been if he'd possessed any emotional regulation whatsoever. When Achilles went on strike, Diomedes stepped up as his replacement on the battlefield. He's arguably only second to Achilles in terms of sheer combat prowess, but with the added bonus of not being completely insufferable to work with.
I suspect that the parallel is intentional. Homer seems to have crafted Diomedes as Achilles' foil: equally skilled in warfare, but level-headed and reasonable where Achilles is volatile and selfish. While Achilles rages about his honor, Diomedes focuses on actually winning the war.
For all his admirable qualities, Diomedes commits his fair share of war crimes and unnecessary brutality. Book 10 of The Iliad sees him and Odysseus on a night raid that involves torturing a prisoner, Dolon, for information before beheading him and then slaughtering sleeping Thracians. Even back then, this may have been considered dishonourable and even blasphemous.
I like that, for all his competence and level-headedness, Diomedes is still just a man molded by the violence that raised him. He is not so different from his father Tydeus, who went mad with rage and died in battle. None of us can escape our father's blood.
now hear me out.
I've created a self-insert character to write myself into The Iliad and, more specifically get involved in Diomedes and Odysseus' shenanigans. This is probably the most embarrassing thing I've admitted publicly. I've had dreams where I got high with Diomedes (Sthenelus, his right-hand man, rolled the blunts), and another where he needed rotator cuff surgery. I've also made multiple playlists for him, crafted Pinterest mood boards, and drawn him more times than reasonable.
I've conceived of a modern alternate universe where Diomedes and the other protagonists participated in the Iraq War and return home to disgustingly American suburbia as jaded vets. This was mostly just so that I could play around with him and the cast in mundane, modern scenarios like lining up at the DMV, having backyard cookouts, and fighting to get health insurance coverage. Oh, and also because I like daydreaming about how the Achaeans would've reacted to 9/11.
The absurdity isn't entirely lost on me. I'm a supposedly rational person with an intense attachment to a character from a 2,800-year-old poem. I analyze his relationships, speculate about how he'd react to the modern political climate, and get upset when adaptations don't portray him correctly--or don't portray him at all (Cough, Troy, 2004). I have, regretfully, often pushed my other academic and personal priorities aside because I cannot focus on anything other than him and the Iliad.
Writing this blog post was difficult--it is always a struggle to explain my brain chemistry to strangers without sounding like a nut case. To most people, this fixation seems quite unhealthy, but it gives my life what I need most: structure. In a world that often feels purposeless, having something to be passionate about provides me with direction and meaning. It's a reason to learn, to create, and to engage with literature that has survived millennia. More importantly, it's a reason for me to continue living.
RIP Alexander the Great, you would've loved arguing with me over the Iliad and Archive of Our Own.