In “The Voyage Home,” Pat Barker Explores War’s Morality: No Scot-Free Escape

The first volume of Pat Barker’s trilogy of the Trojan conflict starts with a thought-provoking epigraph from Philip Roth’s “The Human Stain”: “All of European literature springs from a fight.” This succinct idea sets the tone for Barker’s series, shifting the conventional romanticized narratives of war to a more grounded, raw perspective.

In her two trilogies, the Regeneration series (1991–1995) and the Trojan War series (2019–2024), Barker offers no glorification of war. Instead, she focuses on its horrors, the folly of leadership, and the rampant self-aggrandizement that often accompanies it. These elements create a vivid depiction of the everyday lives impacted by war: how people strive to survive while trying to hold onto their ethics, dignity, and compassion, or, alternatively, choose to end their lives on their own terms.

The first two books of the Trojan War trilogy, “The Silence of the Girls” and “The Women of Troy,” introduce us to the women and girls who become the spoils of war. Their roles mirror those of “comfort women” during World War II; they cook, clean, and nurse for the men who annihilated their families and destroyed their homes.

The story is primarily narrated by Briseis, a former princess of Lyrnessus reduced to a war prize given to Achilles, the very man who killed her brothers and razed her home. “Brilliant Achilles, shining Achilles, godlike Achilles,” she recalls the epithets bestowed upon him, remarking bitterly, “we called him ‘the butcher’.” The narrative strips away any glory from both Achilles and Briseis. Barker poignantly notes, “Queen to sex slave in less than 48 hours: change doesn’t come any more rapid or dramatic than that.”

In her new enslaved identity, Briseis forms a close friendship with Ritsa, a healer and working woman she likely would never have befriended in her past life. Ritsa, notable for her resilience and pragmatism, stands out as a character who not only copes with but also assists others in coping with their circumstances. In the third volume, “The Voyage Home,” Ritsa becomes the narrator.

The story begins in medias res with the Greek camp outside Troy dismantled and Ritsa’s hospital closed. Ritsa now serves as a caretaker to Cassandra, the priestess daughter of Priam, the former king of Troy. Cassandra, who has been claimed as a war prize and reduced to slavery, continues to exhibit erratic behavior, claiming divine inspiration. Ritsa, however, observes, “there was nothing ‘divine’ about it”; Cassandra, with her yellow eyes “like a sea eagle,” is “as mad as a box of snakes.” Bound to Cassandra by her status as a slave, Ritsa must share her fate.

Cassandra is vividly written, with all her complexities. She is defiant, refusing to conform, and often annoys Ritsa by her unwillingness to eat, dress, sleep, or wash properly. Sharp-tongued and entitled, Cassandra’s prophecies add tension, especially her ominous prediction that the voyage “home” will conclude with her death. Yet, she occasionally shows dark humor, as seen when she dismissively responds to Ritsa’s warnings about damp clothes, “I won’t need to run very fast.”

The narrative shifts to Greece, focusing on Clytemnestra, Agamemnon’s queen, who is tormented by grief for her daughter Iphigenia, sacrificially killed by Agamemnon. The palace is haunted by the ghosts of children murdered by Agamemnon’s father, Atreus, who slaughtered his brother’s children and served them as a meal to their father.

Mycenae, Agamemnon’s seat, is overshadowed by the tomb of Iphigenia, which Clytemnestra built to confront any returning ships with a demand for vengeance. This element underscores the pervasive death culture in warrior societies.

As the story progresses, Ritsa and Cassandra are loaded onto a boat bound for Agamemnon’s kingdom. Agamemnon returns home to a mixed reception: the people resent the cost of war and the lives lost or damaged. He himself has aged and shows moments of empathy, yet he still sees himself as a god, especially when he treads on sacred red fabrics looted from Troy’s temples. Ritsa views it as sacrilege, comparing it to a king “wading into his palace through a river of blood.”

Barker’s trilogy centers on women’s war experiences and their relationships, whether through solidarity or conflict, underlining that all women, regardless of status, share a common plight in such times. “The Voyage Home” underscores the fickle nature of power, the banality of evil, and the grace found in everyday lives, reminding readers of the ever-watchful Furies and the inevitable consequences for abuses of power.

The tale is indeed resonant with contemporary times.

Source: various sources