Book Review: The Women of Troy by Pat Barker

‘The Women of Troy’ by Pat Barker was released in 2021. Although it can be read as a standalone novel, the events of the story follow almost directly from her book ‘The Silence Of The Girls’, which I’ve reviewed previously.

We are once again, primarily following Briseis, the former bed slave to the late Achilles, as she grows used to her new role in the Greek encampment as the wife of one of Achilles’ fellow soldiers, Alcimus. However, we also become privy to the thoughts and feelings of Achilles’ son, Pyrrhus, Hero of Troy. With the siege of Troy having concluded within just a handful of pages, the story deals with the aftermath; how the former Queen of Troy, Hecuba, her daughter, Cassandra, and Andromache, wife of Hector accept or refuse their roles as slaves.

As the ships prepare to sail from Troy, and the Greek warriors grow restless, accusations fly. From who has been attempting to offer Priam, the late King of Troy, a burial mound, to whether pregnant Trojan slaves from the city are to be pierced through their swollen abdomens now that Troy is lost, and what may come of them if a son is born, and of course, what could be keeping the winds from picking up and allowing the boats to sail away?

Like its predecessor, ‘The Women Of Troy’ was a harrowing story of abuse and hardship. It contains triggering content and should be read with caution, as there are many references to rape and sexual assault.

Briseis’ character development was intriguing. She went from being the Queen of Lyrnessus, to a slave, and then, upon receiving slightly more power and influence among the women, having risen above her station, solely due to bearing Achilles’ son, is quick to reject the idea of needing Amina following her, and resents Andromache for not taking on a role of leadership among the slave women as she had done when she first arrived in the camps.

I found this second book raw and emotional in a completely different way to the previous one, from Pyrrhus’ character being one of unrelenting imposter syndrome, and a feeling of ineptitude spurred on from when he attempted to execute Priam. His self-doubt and insecurities are only spurred on further by the brave Amina, one of Hecuba’s women, who’d seen the botched slaughter and makes several attempts to bury her king. Then there was the final blow, an accusation that he has offended the Gods because in executing Priam, he had besmirched the sacred bond of Guest Friends, and must offer tribute.

Pyrrhus is a child in this story, a glorified child, and acknowledged to be a shadow of his father. He can’t handle his drink, he can’t bed his slaves, and he can’t even execute an old man. Pyrrhus is looked down upon, although feared, even by slaves. Briseis is dismissive of the boy, but acknowledged he was formidable, if not for his lineage, but due to the fealty of his men from Skyros. I wanted to cry as Pyrrhus endured doubt after doubt, to the extent he was commanded to sacrifice his favourite horse, Ebony. As someone with pets, to put them down is an incredibly taxing and emotional decision, and that is when it’s humane. Executing the horse on Priam’s funeral pyre wouldn’t have been that at all.

And yet, despite Pyrrhus being the oppressor, the slave owner, the conqueror, who enslaved those women and abused his seat of power, I still wept for him as he was faced by that ultimatum. He was a boy, a teenager, in this book, being told he must kill his pet as penance for something he didn’t know about.

Pyrrhus was the antagonist of the book, an acclaimed Greek hero, who was slated throughout the book for his mistreatment and neglect of his war prizes and slaves, and yet, he was tragic. I ached for the boy, in a completely different way to what I had done to the women Briseis interacts with, and had done in the previous novel. And although this novel follows the enslavement of the Trojan Royals, it truly was Pyrrhus who broke me. Truly.

This inadvertent appraisal of Pyrrhus as a tragic figure in the story has me eager to recommend it, alongside ‘The Silence Of The Girls’. It was a riveting, engaging read, which fills in the blanks that the Epics past didn’t seem to care for. Like women. To paraphrase Pyrrhus’ words, it was unbelievable that women would be willing to defy their captors, their owners.