In Chapter 6, Patroclus documents the growing familial intimacy between himself, Achilles, and King Peleus. The king even begins to use an affectionate nickname for Patroclus, likening him to an owl:
I was happy to be silent and watch the men around me. Skops, Peleus took to calling me. Owl, for my big eyes. He was good at this sort of affection, general and unbinding.
While skops is not, at face value, an ironic nickname, King Peleus's chosen epithet for Patroclus becomes situationally ironic in relation to this Chapter 6 passage:
I could have lied. And then the revelation that followed: if I had lied, I would still be a prince. It was not murder that had exiled me, it was my lack of cunning. I understood, now, the disgust in my father’s eyes. His moron son, confessing all.
In the Greek mythos, owls are associated with the goddess of wisdom, Athena. Odysseus, known for his cleverness and cunning, claims Athena as his patron later on in The Song of Achilles. Patroclus is kind, empathetic, morally upright—but he is no quick-thinking strategist, no owl. Peleus did not intend to call Patroclus skops as a jest; nevertheless, this title registers as ironic given Patroclus's self-avowed "lack of cunning."
In Chapter 13, Deidameia has Patroclus brought before her, intending to punish Patroclus for Achilles's rejection of her. In the following passage, she insults Patroclus's appearance, wondering why Achilles would love Patroclus more than her:
“Your neck is short. Your chest is thin as a boy’s.” She gestured at me with disdainful fingers. “And your face.” She grimaced. “Hideous. My women quite agree. Even my father agrees.”
Deidameia speaks as though she detests Patroclus. The situational irony arises later on in the chapter, when Deidameia pursues Patroclus sexually after he offers her comfort:
After a time, her sobs subsided, and she drew me closer. I felt her hands stroking my back, the length of her body pressing to mine. At first I did not understand. Then I did.
“You do not want this,” I said. I made to step back, but she held me too tightly.
“I do.” Her eyes had an intensity to them that almost frightened me.
Deidameia vows her hatred and aversion towards Patroclus, yet simultaneously craves validation from another man after receiving none from Achilles. Patroclus is one of the only people who has offered Deidameia comfort: neither Achilles, nor her father, nor Thetis can spare any affection for her, despite all she endures for the sake of Achilles's temporary disguise.
While it may be ironic for Deidameia to pursue sexual intimacy with Patroclus, her behavior becomes understandable in the context of her loneliness. As a woman, what little agency she can leverage in this male-centric world is sexual or romantic. She cannot use her body to get the affection or regard she desires from Achilles, so she turns what little power she has on Patroclus. Sadly, Patroclus sleeps with her mostly out of pity.
Given the fact that Achilles's death is the prophesied one, it is deeply ironic that Patroclus should die first and that Achilles should die seeking vengeance. This turn of events is foreshadowed by Thetis, who provides an obscure look towards the future in Chapter 24:
What could make a goddess pause was terrifying indeed.
“A prophecy,” she said. “That the best of the Myrmidons will die before two more years have passed.”
Achilles’ face was still; utterly still. “We have known it was coming,” he said.
A curt shake of her head. “No. The prophecy says you will still be alive when it happens.”
The "best of the Myrmidons" is, in fact, Patroclus. Patroclus, among all those fighting to free Helen—among all the Myrmidons, including Achilles himself—is the lone person to maintain his strong moral code and honor. It is Patroclus who speaks the truth to Achilles when the mythic warrior discredits himself with dishonorable behavior.
Briseis inadvertently reveals that it is Patroclus, not Achilles, who is the best of the Myrmidons. This truth comes to light in the following discussion between Patroclus and Briseis in Chapter 28:
“Be careful tomorrow,” she says. “Best of men. Best of the Myrmidons.” She places her fingers to my lips, stopping my objection. “It is truth,” she says. “Let it stand, for once.”
While Patroclus may not be the best fighter among the Myrmidons, he is the most morally upright. Briseis recognizes this; sadly, she is right—Patroclus dies soon after their conversation.
Thetis worries that Patroclus will stain Achilles's reputation as a hero; in reality, it is Achilles's own pride in his battle of wills with Agamemnon that threatens to destroy perceptions of his heroism. This irony is exemplified in the following conversation between Achilles and Patroclus from Chapter 26. The two clash over Patroclus's decision to inform Agamemnon of Achilles's plan to let the tyrant king rape Briseis:
“My life is my reputation,” he says. His breath sounds ragged. “It is all I have. I will not live much longer. Memory is all I can hope for.” He swallows, thickly. “You know this. And would you let Agamemnon destroy it? Would you help him take it from me?”
“I would not,” I say. “But I would have the memory be worthy of the man. I would have you be yourself, not some tyrant remembered for his cruelty. [....] No fame is worth what you did today.”
The irony in this situation stems, as it so often does, from subtle differences in wording and implication. Achilles states that his "life is [his] reputation." When he uses the word "reputation," he refers to his renown as a warrior. Agamemnon seeks to destroy Achilles's reputation as a warrior and leader. But Patroclus is more concerned about Achilles's reputation as an honorable man—a person of moral courage, willing to protect those who are weaker than him. It is ultimately Achilles's pride and lack of consideration for Briseis that threaten his "reputation," not his relationship with Patroclus or his concessions to Agamemnon.
Given the fact that Achilles's death is the prophesied one, it is deeply ironic that Patroclus should die first and that Achilles should die seeking vengeance. This turn of events is foreshadowed by Thetis, who provides an obscure look towards the future in Chapter 24:
What could make a goddess pause was terrifying indeed.
“A prophecy,” she said. “That the best of the Myrmidons will die before two more years have passed.”
Achilles’ face was still; utterly still. “We have known it was coming,” he said.
A curt shake of her head. “No. The prophecy says you will still be alive when it happens.”
The "best of the Myrmidons" is, in fact, Patroclus. Patroclus, among all those fighting to free Helen—among all the Myrmidons, including Achilles himself—is the lone person to maintain his strong moral code and honor. It is Patroclus who speaks the truth to Achilles when the mythic warrior discredits himself with dishonorable behavior.
Briseis inadvertently reveals that it is Patroclus, not Achilles, who is the best of the Myrmidons. This truth comes to light in the following discussion between Patroclus and Briseis in Chapter 28:
“Be careful tomorrow,” she says. “Best of men. Best of the Myrmidons.” She places her fingers to my lips, stopping my objection. “It is truth,” she says. “Let it stand, for once.”
While Patroclus may not be the best fighter among the Myrmidons, he is the most morally upright. Briseis recognizes this; sadly, she is right—Patroclus dies soon after their conversation.
In Chapter 33, Odysseus speaks with Pyrrhus, making a tongue-in-cheek reference to their relative longevity in cultural memory. This is a moment of dramatic irony for readers, many of whom know of Odysseus—even if they are not familiar with the details of his story.
"[F]ame is a strange thing. Some men gain glory after they die, while others fade. What is admired in one generation is abhorred in another.” He spread his broad hands. “We cannot say who will survive the holocaust of memory. Who knows?” He smiles. “Perhaps one day even I will be famous. Perhaps more famous than you.”
Odysseus's fame comes from his canonization in Homer's famous epics The Iliad and The Odyssey. The Iliad, much like The Song of Achilles, details the events of the Trojan War. In The Iliad, Homer sets up Odysseus’s character as one among many; in The Odyssey, Odysseus becomes the protagonist.
In the above excerpt from Chapter 33, Odysseus implies not only that he will “survive the holocaust of memory” over and above Pyrrhus, but that his character traits will receive greater admiration from future generations. This prediction does hold true to a great extent: Odysseus’s cleverness is storied, whereas Pyrrhus’s bravery and fierceness in battle are only a footnote in the historical record.