The first quarter of the twenty-first century has been a very prolific time for Statius’ Achilleid: apart from several commentaries published during this time period A.D.V.’s study is already the fourth monograph exclusively devoted to Statius’ second epic poem to appear (P. Heslin, The Transvestite Achilles: Gender and Genre in Statius’ Achilleid [2005]; G. Bitto, Vergimus in senium. Statius’ Achilleis als Alterswerk [2016]; B. Sigurjónsson, Sic notus Achilles? Episches Narrativ und Intertextualität in Statius’ Achilleis [2023; too late to be included by A.D.V.]). For the sake of comparison, there was only monograph in the twentieth century (M. Benker, Achill und Domitian: Herrscherkritik in der Achilleis des Statius [1987]). The Achilleid has provoked quite different interpretations concerning its status as an epic: it has been viewed as an epic parody, an ethos epic or an Ovidian or elegiac epic, to name just a few. Compared to the Thebaid, the Achilleid seems to be so much lighter in tone at first glance that it is understandable that a lot of research focused on these seemingly non-epic aspects (of course, earlier scholarship already pointed out that there a darker aspects in the Achilleid, especially regarding the possible future of the main character in the books that remained unwritten, see e.g. A. Cameron, JRS 99 [2009], 1–22). So, it is a very welcome addition to have the darker side comprehensively studied in a thought-provoking monograph.

The book is structured in five chapters (the first being an extensive introduction), a short summarising postlude and a rich bibliography followed by two indexes (passages; general). The introductory chapter states the starting point for the analysis as follows: ‘the Achilleid and its teasing, fluctuating dichotomies … urge the reader to pay attention to the other side, to the realities that lie parallel and beyond the bounds of the poem’ (p. 3). Correspondingly, intertextual and mythological references covering the parts of Achilles’ life not narrated within in the poem, but only hinted at play an important role. The introduction continues with a discussion of ‘tragic’ aspects and the foreshadowing of Achilles’ death as well as the relationship to literary tradition(s), ending with a summary of the chapters that follow. While the introduction poses interesting questions, it would have benefited from a more succinct style since it covers a lot of points that do not come up again or prepare for what is coming (e.g. the quite general discussion of ‘tragic’, pp. 11–14, is not necessary for following the extremely interesting discussion of the relationship between Sophocles’ Philoctetes and the Achilleid in Chapter 4 or any other discussion involving tragedy). This minor quibble aside, the next four chapters offer excellent discussions, each concentrating on a different theme and character: Achilles as a lion (Chapter 2); Hercules and Jupiter as contrasting figures to Achilles (Chapter 3); Ulysses as a (difficult) father figure (Chapter 4); Thetis and Calchas as vates (Chapter 5).

Chapter 2 convincingly shows how comparisons to lions for Achilles and the details about his diet (including comparisons to Bacchus and Pentheus) question the ephebic portrait of the main character. They uncover darker sides of his character that are not the focus of the plot, but could easily resurface in an epic that would have included Achilles’ Trojan years. Chapter 3 centres on Achilles’ relationship to his almost-father Jupiter and his real son Hercules. Several times parallels to Hercules are drawn in the Achilleid (by Chiron, 1.156–8, but interrupted by the first appearance of the main character; by Thetis, 1.260–1); via intertextual references, especially to Seneca’s Hercules furens, Achilles’ potential to become furens is hinted at. While Hercules is a real son of Jupiter, the theme of being almost a son of Jupiter runs through the epic (beginning right from the first line) even if at the same time Jupiter is conspicuously absent. Taking these two figures, Hercules and Jupiter, together, A.D.V. makes a convincing case for Achilles’ failure to reach a divine status so that in the end death is indeed death for Achilles. The place of the absent father is taken by Ulysses, as Chapter 4 argues, who leads Achilles from his non-epic status on Scyros (back) to the epic world of war. Ultimately, Ulysses leads his ‘son’ to his death, so that his role as a father figure remains questionable. Furthermore, via close comparison to Sophocles’ Philoctetes, involving Ulysses and Achilles’ son Neoptolemus, A.D.V. shows that Statius highlights the dubious and manipulative characteristics of Ulysses that are remarkably visible in several non-Odyssean texts. It seems to me especially relevant that Statius uses familial ties to literary and mythological history in order to weave his Achilles into the tradition: Neoptolemus is still an infant in the Achilleid, but in Sophocles he will have to cope with a Ulysses that used the same tricks already on his father, with the important difference that in the end the Sophoclean Neoptolemus is able to resist Ulysses. The last chapter examines the foreshadowing of the death of Achilles through the lens of the different prophecies uttered in the Achilleid, linking the vatic figures of the plot to the vatic authority assumed by the poet in the proem. Calchas’ vision of Achilles (1.514–38), the content and the way in which it is delivered, presents a destabilised epic hero respectively seer. The second part of Chapter 5 advances a clever interpretation of Thetis’ role in the Achilleid, beginning by identifying the unnamed diva (1.3) who is asked to tell the story with Thetis. Thus, a link from beginning to end is created (scit cetera mater, 2.167), and Thetis becomes another stand-in for the poet. She tries to create a different tradition, a parallel narrative in which Achilles survives, but, like the poet, she has to bow before tradition. In the postlude A.D.V. affirms her perspective on the Achilleid as an ambivalent epic that oscillates between lighter and darker sides.

As indicated in the quote from the introduction, a lot of elements contributing to the darker side of the Achilleid are not part of the epic, but consist rather in ties to the literary and mythological tradition. This is itself not surprising with an epic that so overtly exposes its ‘secondariness’. But a problem of interpretation remains: are these parallels meant to emphasise the distance or the closeness? Take for example the comparison to tragic Pentheus (1.839–40): Achilles is, we are told, as conspicuous among the dancing daughters of Lycomedes as Pentheus was among the maenads. But Achilles is not going to die from the hands of Lycomedes’ daughters; so, in an important way he is not Pentheus. True, we can see this moment as yet another foreshadowing of his death. However, Achilles’ death is not part of the (extant) Achilleid; even the proem avoids mentioning his death explicitly, while advertising the scope of the narrative (1.6–7). So, there is a darker side or rather there are darker moments in the Achilleid, but, to my mind, they seem only cautiously touched upon in order to maintain a different atmosphere (not a distorted epic as the subtitle proposes, but more of a restrained epic). In the end, this question is, of course, up to the individual reader’s mind. In any case, without doubt, A.D.V. offers an elegantly written and engaging discussion of Statius’ epic. Anyone interested in the Achilleid will gain a lot of insights and stimulating ideas from it. Prolific times indeed for the Achilleid.