More than half a century has passed since Arthur W.H. Adkins argued that Greek and modern ethics differ considerably. Adkins said, for instance, that the Greeks lacked the concept of ‘duty’. In so far as duty is concerned, he claimed, ‘we are all Kantians now’ (Merit and Responsibility [1960], p. 2). When discussing Homer, Adkins spoke of the agathos instead of ‘the good man’ because, he argued, the qualities of the agathos differ so markedly from the qualities we would recognise today as those of ‘the good man’. In this book, A. takes a stand in opposition to attempts to see the Homeric poems as offering something primitive, alien, or in any way out of joint with the way we think today. He argues that Homer, through the example of Achilles, taught the Greeks the nature of the good life. What is likely to be more controversial is the idea that Homer can use the example of Achilles to instruct us as well. A. argues that ‘we postmodern people have much to learn from classical civilization and the philosophic poet who founded it’ (p. 21). Homer being a philosopher who can speak directly to us, A. has no need to resort to the use of the Greek ethical vocabulary in describing Homeric virtue. The English words ‘goodness’, ‘loyalty’, ‘justice’, ‘love’, ‘hate’, ‘nobility’ and ‘piety’ serve just as well as the Greek originals to convey Homer's meaning.

A. begins with what he calls ‘The Theology of Homer’ (pp. 25–72). He describes the Homeric gods as inconsistent, changeable, shallow and whimsical. This is said more succinctly by E.T. Owen, whose book The Story of the Iliad (1946) remains my favourite study of the poem. A. shows, however, that from within the poem the characters regard the gods as ‘wise, just, and providential’ (p. 35). The essential theological point he says the poet makes is that mortals should look to him rather than to the gods for guidance (p. 60). A. wants contemporary readers to draw the same conclusion about our relationship to Homer and to the divine.

The bulk of the book is taken up with close analyses of the characters of Achilles, Hector and Odysseus (pp. 73–255). Achilles in this account emerges as by far the most humane and rational of the three – not to be admired so much for being ‘the greatest warrior of them all’ (p. 74), but rather for a more encompassing virtue that consists of courage, justice, prudence, compassion (p. 134) and sterling quality of mind (p. 198). A. sees Achilles as embodying these qualities more fully than Hector or Odysseus, the only other possible claimants to the title most virtuous of Homeric heroes. Achilles, the hero devoted to the life of reason, wrestles with a conundrum. On the one hand, he ‘believes the virtuous life to be fundamentally noble and self-denying’ (p. 140); Iliadic virtue, according to A., ‘means devoting oneself to others more than to oneself and therefore enduring pain and even death for the sake of others’ (p. 151). The Achilles of this account also thinks that virtue should provide him benefits (p. 141). In Book 9 the hero faces doubts whether he should pursue the life of virtue or renounce it entirely and return home to Phthia, where he could enjoy a life devoted solely to ‘physical existence and satisfaction’ (p. 156). A. offers the novel suggestion that Achilles in Book 9 considers a third possible way of life, that of a contemplative singer like Homer himself (p. 157). In the end, Achilles remains at Troy and opts for the life of virtue in the hope that he might receive the only benefit that could make the life of virtue beneficial: personal immortality (p. 158). Achilles, however, deeply desires the friendship of Patroclus and of others among the Achaeans. Thereby he fails to realise that the life of virtue he wants for himself will inevitably bring him into conflict with his friends, in this case Patroclus. Virtue in this account is a kind of zero-sum game in which Achilles’ gain or loss of honour would be equally balanced by Patroclus’ loss or gain. Virtue and honour cannot be equally shared: ‘Only one can be the best of the Achaeans’ (p. 177). Achilles sends Patroclus into battle in Book 16, granting his friend the opportunity to display his virtue (p. 177). Yet if Iliadic virtue consists largely in quality of mind, prudence, justice and the like, the unpalatable conclusion follows that Patroclus means to challenge Achilles to a kind of intellectual and prudential agôn. But this cannot be the case. Patroclus wishes to show his prowess on the battlefield. A. might resort to the claim that heroic virtue assumes a different form within the poem from how it looks to the author of the poem and, I presume, to us, but this move is not made. With the death of Patroclus, who is killed by Hector, Achilles fails to recognise that the life of the wise singer, the life of Homer, is the only life that could bring him the kind of satisfaction he craves (p. 179). Achilles’ mistake here, I suppose, is what A. would regard as the ultimate tragedy of Achilles. In his final act in the poem, Achilles returns the corpse of the dead Hector to Priam in an act of friendship.

Hector falls below Achilles in the rank of the heroically virtuous. Despite the common conception of Hector as a man devoted to the interests of his family and city, the Hector who emerges from these pages appears in a different light. Hector ‘basely’ blames Paris and the Trojans for the continuance of the war when he himself has the power to end it, if he were so to choose (p. 91). Moreover, he is a self-interested lover of glory (p. 99) and a reckless defender of his people (p. 115). The arguments here are very convincing, as is the depiction of Odysseus as a flawed leader who recklessly leads his men to disaster after the fall of Troy (p. 214). While Achilles rises above his anger at the end of the Iliad, Odysseus in the corresponding act of the Odyssey gives in to his fury and murders the suitors.

The book is well produced. I noticed only a few typos (pp. 33 and 142). Hecuba appears as ‘Hecubae’ throughout. Printer's error?

A. argues that modern scholarship has for the most part undervalued Homer as a philosophical poet of the first rank. Maybe so, but a number of modern philosophers hold Homer in high regard. Bernard Williams, for example, argues that Homer has much to teach us regarding the philosophy of mind. In some respects, Homer's thinking marks an advance over modern theories (Shame and Necessity [1993], p. 46). Terence Irwin finds the beginning of philosophy in the Homeric poems because of the way the poet elucidates character in terms of the goals people pursue and for his clarity, intelligibility and appeals to common sense. Rational cosmology begins with questions raised by Homer (A History of Western Philosophy: 1: Classical Thought [1989], pp. 8, 18–19).

A.’s depiction of Homer as a philosophical poet of the first rank is compelling. This book is deserving of a close reading by scholars and students alike. However, much of what is said about the character of Achilles and the nature of heroic virtue seems to me questionable. Is the modern world really so much like the world of the Iliad? Are the values of the Homeric poet in line with modern values? Regardless of their answers, readers will enjoy the many challenges offered by this provocative study of the Homeric poems.