In Chapter 3, Patroclus recounts Achilles's origin story. Peleus, Achilles's father, was "rewarded" with an immortal wife by the gods. Thetis unwillingly bore Peleus a son—Achilles—but remained distant from her husband, disgusted by his mortality. Patroclus mirrors Thetis's attitude in his own metaphoric language, comparing mortals like himself to dirt:
As a reward, our divinities offered him a sea-nymph for a wife. It was considered their highest honor. After all, what mortal would not want to bed a goddess and sire a son from her? Divine blood purified our muddy race, bred heroes from dust and clay.
This passage reveals much about Patroclus's self-image, set to become relevant later on in the novel. He views himself as a dirty mortal, impure—hence his shock at Achilles's interest in him. Patroclus venerates Achilles, not simply as his lover and friend, but as a man with godly blood flowing through his veins. He both loves Achilles and idolizes him, at least while the two are young.
Patroclus's perception of divinity and mortality shifts over the course of the novel, maturing into a more realistic view as the cruelty of the gods becomes evident. Even Achilles, mortal but born of the gods, carries deadly pride and cruelty—qualities Patroclus must work to counter in his lover, as war brings out the worst parts of Achilles's divinity.
In the following example of metaphor from Chapter 30, Patroclus compares Troy to an uncrackable egg, with Helen as its "precious gold yolk":
I will crack their uncrackable city, and capture Helen, the precious gold yolk within. I imagine dragging her out under my arm, dumping her before Menelaus. Done. No more men will have to die for her vanity.
Recall that Patroclus uses similar figurative language in a simile in Chapter 3 to describe Clysonymus' murder:
That night I dreamed of the dead boy, his skull cracked like an egg against the ground. He has followed me. The blood spreads, dark as spilled wine.
This shift in figurative usage serves as commentary on the destruction of innocence and youth, along with morality, in a wartime setting. Patroclus once abhorred violence; he considered life precious—even the life of a boy who bullied him. Patroclus dreams of Clysonymus's skull "cracked like an egg against the ground." Such phrasing implies that Patroclus views Clysonymus's death as a senseless waste, like an egg dashed against the ground and no longer edible.
By contrast, Patroclus later yearns to crack an "uncrackable egg"—the city of Troy—and forcibly extract Helen, its precious yolk. This egg metaphor no longer represents Patroclus's aversion to violence. It is, rather, an incitement to violence, which Patroclus attempts to justify: "no more men will have to die for her vanity." In truth, many more will die attempting to "crack" Troy, including Patroclus himself.
In the following example of indirect metaphor from Chapter 31, Achilles refuses Hector any mercy before killing him, naming himself a lion and Hector the man he will "eat [...] raw”:
Hector’s eyes are wide, but he will run no longer. He says, “Grant me this. Give my body to my family, when you have killed me.”
Achilles makes a sound like choking. “There are no bargains between lions and men. I will kill you and eat you raw.”
This phrasing hearkens back to a passage from Chapter 10, in which Achilles and Patroclus converse soon after their first sexual encounter:
“I know. They never let you be famous and happy [...]. I’m going to be the first.” [Achilles] took my palm and held it to his. “Swear it.”
“Why me?”
“Because you’re the reason. Swear it.”
[...]
We sat like that a moment, hands touching. He grinned.
“I feel like I could eat the world raw.”
Achilles's once-youthful metaphor for confident, all-consuming love morphs into something darker when he kills Hector. The affection and care Achilles once felt for mortals, embodied by his love for Patroclus, turns into hate once that same race of mortals kills his lover. In Chapter 10, Achilles is empowered by love; in Chapter 31, he is empowered by his desire for vengeance. This corruption of Achilles's youthful fancy occurs because of war and its associated atrocities and indignities.
In Chapter 10, Achilles and Patroclus realize that Thetis cannot "see" them on Mount Pelion. Emboldened by this epiphany, the two finally give in to their yearning for intimacy and connection. Patroclus uses sensory imagery to narrate their sexual encounter:
I was trembling, afraid to put him to flight. I did not know what to do, what he would like. I kissed his neck, the span of his chest, and tasted the salt. He seemed to swell beneath my touch, to ripen. He smelled like almonds and earth. He pressed against me, crushing my lips to wine.
Note the imagery of ripe fruit in this passage, correlated with intimacy, sexuality, and the bloom of youth. Achilles "swell[s]" and "ripen[s]" under Patroclus's touch. Achilles "presses" against Patroclus like one attempting to make grapes into wine. This language parallels that used earlier in the chapter, when Patroclus describes the figs he picks for Achilles's birthday:
The figs hung rich and heavy on the tree, their curved flesh pliant to my touch—two days later and they would be too ripe. I gathered them in a carved-wood bowl and bore them carefully back to the cave.
As the two boys experience sexual and romantic intimacy for the first time, they "bloom" like ripe fruit under one another's touch. Fruit metaphors are common signifiers of sexuality—pomegranates, figs, cherries. It is appropriate that Patroclus would use such imagery to describe his first foray into sex.
In The Song of Achilles, women mostly feature as secondary characters: devices or vessels through which men channel their desires, ambitions, and progeny, only later to scorn and demean them for the sake of power, respect, or simple convenience (i.e. Patroclus's mother, Deidameia, Briseis, Helen). If women are not used by men, they are demonized and portrayed unfavorably (Thetis). Femininity is lesser, weaker; if it is not, it is unnatural.
An example occurs in Chapter 13, when Deidameia has Patroclus brought before her. In two prominent examples of figurative language, Patroclus compares Deidameia to a child, infantilizing her. In the first example—one of indirect metaphor—Patroclus compares Deidameia's confused rejection to childlike questioning:
“Achilles does not regard me.” Her voice trembled a little. “Even though I bear his child and am his wife. Do you—know why this is so?” It was a child’s question, like why the rain falls or why the sea’s motion never ceases. I felt older than her, though I was not.
Patroclus cannot fathom why Deidameia cannot understand Achilles, nor comprehend his lack of interest. He pities her as he would an uninformed child, condescending to her lowered position.
Later on in their encounter, Patroclus comforts Deidameia, this time comparing her directly to a child through simile:
Almost unwillingly, I stepped towards her. She gave a small sigh, like a sleepy child, and drooped gratefully into the circle of my arms. Her tears bled through my tunic; I held the curves of her waist, felt the warm, soft skin of her arms
Despite being near strangers, Patroclus appears to feel some paternal condescension towards Deidameia that colors his interactions with her, leading him to infantilize her. While this form of misogynistic thinking is less harmful than outright physical violence, it nonetheless goes to show that in a male-centric society, even a man as empathetic to women as Patroclus still may treat women as his inferiors.
In Chapter 15, Patroclus learns about Achilles's prophesied death in the wars to come. Patroclus mourns his lover, lamenting the limited time they have left together. In the following example of metaphor, he compares each minute of time that passes to a "drop of heartsblood" lost:
I lay back and tried not to think of the minutes passing. Just yesterday we had had a wealth of them. Now each was a drop of heartsblood lost.
Technically, the above statement could hold true even without a prophecy. All mortals—Achilles included—must die one day. Achilles and Patroclus are young, however. Before Thetis reveals the prophecy, death was likely the furthest thing from the minds of these two young lovers. Young people tend not to think of death often; or, if they do, they envision it as a distant, hazy eventuality.
Once Achilles's death appears imminent, the timeline of life loses its haziness. The two lovers no longer have decades to live together. They must make their peace with a limited amount of time and a set end date, given foreknowledge of their loss. In the face of this imminent death, each moment of time Achilles and Patroclus share becomes vital, and both men become hyper-attuned to the passing of time. Indeed, it feels as if they are actually bleeding the minutes away.
In the following example of metaphor from Chapter 30, Patroclus compares Troy to an uncrackable egg, with Helen as its "precious gold yolk":
I will crack their uncrackable city, and capture Helen, the precious gold yolk within. I imagine dragging her out under my arm, dumping her before Menelaus. Done. No more men will have to die for her vanity.
Recall that Patroclus uses similar figurative language in a simile in Chapter 3 to describe Clysonymus' murder:
That night I dreamed of the dead boy, his skull cracked like an egg against the ground. He has followed me. The blood spreads, dark as spilled wine.
This shift in figurative usage serves as commentary on the destruction of innocence and youth, along with morality, in a wartime setting. Patroclus once abhorred violence; he considered life precious—even the life of a boy who bullied him. Patroclus dreams of Clysonymus's skull "cracked like an egg against the ground." Such phrasing implies that Patroclus views Clysonymus's death as a senseless waste, like an egg dashed against the ground and no longer edible.
By contrast, Patroclus later yearns to crack an "uncrackable egg"—the city of Troy—and forcibly extract Helen, its precious yolk. This egg metaphor no longer represents Patroclus's aversion to violence. It is, rather, an incitement to violence, which Patroclus attempts to justify: "no more men will have to die for her vanity." In truth, many more will die attempting to "crack" Troy, including Patroclus himself.
In the following example of indirect metaphor from Chapter 31, Achilles refuses Hector any mercy before killing him, naming himself a lion and Hector the man he will "eat [...] raw”:
Hector’s eyes are wide, but he will run no longer. He says, “Grant me this. Give my body to my family, when you have killed me.”
Achilles makes a sound like choking. “There are no bargains between lions and men. I will kill you and eat you raw.”
This phrasing hearkens back to a passage from Chapter 10, in which Achilles and Patroclus converse soon after their first sexual encounter:
“I know. They never let you be famous and happy [...]. I’m going to be the first.” [Achilles] took my palm and held it to his. “Swear it.”
“Why me?”
“Because you’re the reason. Swear it.”
[...]
We sat like that a moment, hands touching. He grinned.
“I feel like I could eat the world raw.”
Achilles's once-youthful metaphor for confident, all-consuming love morphs into something darker when he kills Hector. The affection and care Achilles once felt for mortals, embodied by his love for Patroclus, turns into hate once that same race of mortals kills his lover. In Chapter 10, Achilles is empowered by love; in Chapter 31, he is empowered by his desire for vengeance. This corruption of Achilles's youthful fancy occurs because of war and its associated atrocities and indignities.