Siege of Troy

The first scene tells the story of Helen's departure, through the eyes of the daughter she left behind. Here, students are introduced to Ancient Greece and explore the role of Gods in their culture; as an exercise, students create a new Greek-style God for the modern world.

The second scene takes us into Troy to meet the defenders of the city where students analyse the ways that language is used to create characters. In the third scene we are in the Greek camp where students explore how language is used to objectify women.

In the final three scenes the attentions shifts to  Achilles and Hector. In the first scene, we meet Hector and his child. Here, students explore how Hector embodies the dual masculine ideals of family man and warrior. Hector is presented as a caring father, a loving husband and a ruthless killer. Achilles is different. He is a fighter, through and through, and in his scene his selfish arrogance is clear. In the final scene, Achilles and Hector do battle, but the language maintains a consistent presentation of their characters: Achilles kills without reflection, while Hector - the humanitarian warrior - considers his moves and feels compassion.

Alongside the creative writing this unit contains PPTs for each scene, as well as some extension tasks including an essay that explores the modern implications of the story, comparing the characters to the modern figures of Ronaldo and Messi; there is also a range of poetry and other pieces of writing inspired by the Iliad itself.

Example, taken from the Achilles and Hector reading assessment extract:

6. Achilles & Hector  

The gates of Troy slammed shut. Only Hector remained outside, his bronze armour dulled by the dust of battle, his horse-hair plume matted with congealing blood, his arms numb from fighting, and his sword black with the remains of the men it had killed. 

Hector would face Achilles now, in this moment, and on this field. That morning he’d seen the Greek beast kill Polydorus, another of Priam’s sons, another of Hector’s brothers, who’d died with his own entrails slipping from his bloody hands. 

And now Hector would kill Achilles. At last, he had found his rage, and with it he had the strength to take down the Demi-God. 

From the walls above, Hector heard the sound of his father calling for him to retreat to the safety of the city, his mother wailing that he should return to her once more, his wife pleading that he choose to stay with his son, and his son proudly declaring that they should all stop their noise because his father, Hector of Troy, was about to kill the Greek’s greatest champion. 

He shook the voices from his mind. He must be determined now; only clean anger could see this through. He focused only on the wind drifting across the lonely plain and the steady rumble of Achilles’ approaching chariot. 

But what if… Hector wondered, unable to shake the thought while the voices of his family echoed in his ears. Should I retreat back behind the walls and live to fight another day?  

No. He decided. This must end – with my death or his.  

Or should I speak with Achilles? Bargain with him. Offer to return Helen and talk like two grieving friends who seek an end to this madness?  

No! He shook the thought away again. This man who comes across the plain is not here to parley. He is a killer, Hector reminded himself. And now I must be one too. 

Though the wait seemed an age in passing, all too soon Achilles was leaping from his chariot, leaving it spinning off into the dust, crippling the horse as it went.  

“Now we finish it Achilles,” Hector called. “But let us both make an agreement, before the Gods, that whoever wins shall return the loser’s body to our family for the funeral rites we both deserve, as warriors and men!”  

But Achilles didn’t seem interested in conversation, and only roared incoherently and then leapt into the air and brought his sword down in one stabbing motion toward Hector’s neck. 

In a single movement, Hector slipped aside and swerved beneath and behind Achilles, and then brought his own sword down toward the Greek’s back.  

Achilles moved swiftly, and used the movement to come at Hector from his left catching him with the tip of his blade and opening a small gash just above his waist. 

Hector instinctively backed off at the blow, and although Achilles registered the hit, he didn’t pause nearly long enough for Hector to regroup himself before he attacked again. 

Achilles hacked at Hector like he was chopping wood in a rage, seemingly happy to reduce the Trojan to kindling with a constant barrage of swift, wild strikes. The force and speed of the attack left Hector desperately defending himself while being driven back, trapping himself against the walls of his city. 

While he focused on his defence, Hector looked around desperately for a way out but could see nothing. It seems strange, but during the attack Hector actually took the time to think, and reflect on the fact that Achilles seemed capable of neither thought nor reflection. 

Deciding that instinct would be what saved him, Hector rolled to one side and found his hand brushing past a small clump of pebbles which he grabbed and threw at Achilles’ face. One stone clipped Achilles’ nose and set it bleeding, and in response Achilles ripped off his helmet and threw it at Hector and then followed it with body and his sword. 

While Achilles rained blows, Hector considered his moves.  

While Achilles moved fluidly and instinctively, Hector found himself wrestling with himself, to clear his mind and focus on the fight. 

I should have returned… oh Andromache, what have I done?  

And in that moment, Hector understood why Achilles was the warrior that he was: he didn’t think, he didn’t consider, he never wondered or cared; he felt no remorse or doubt; he knew neither reason nor pity; he simply killed. And that… missing thing… the lack of any desire to ever be seen as right or truthful, or higher, or more humane, made him unstoppable in the field.  

“Stop playing with him father,” called a voice from the walls and Hector looked up to see his son gazing down from on high. And so it was, that the last thing Hector felt before Achilles ran him through was a profound sense that he had let his son down terribly. 

Hector barely registered the pain of the wound, which Achilles had aimed at his neck and driven down deep into his rib cage, and which was now bleeding freely. 

“You have won Achilles,” Hector gurgled as he lay on the dusty floor, the blood of his life leaving him. “Now please leave me for my family so I may be buried with dignity.” 

Achilles spat: “The dogs will have you! They’ll sup on your flesh before your own mother’s weeping eyes.” 

Achilles’ lack of mercy enraged even the dying Hector, and he willed himself to move again, to raise himself back up and strike down this evil, remorseless man, but his energy was spent. 

Achilles then turned to face the walls of Troy and screamed: “You see your hero now! Dying in the dirt! I killed him! Me! Achilles! I am a killer! And this I will do to all of you!”  

Then he turned back to the Greek hoards who now slowly approached the battle ground.  

“But I am also a generous man, and now I will allow the others to take their turn.”  

He gestured for the hoards to approach Hector, and one by one each man passed the dying Prince of Troy and stabbed him with their spears, and gouged at his eyes, and mutilated his corpse. 

When they were done, Achilles used his spear to cut a hole in Hector’s ankles and then he threaded leather through it and tied the corpse to the back of a chariot. And then he whipped the horse and dragged Hector’s lifeless form around and around the walls of Troy while his parents, his wife, and Astyanax watched on in horror. 

He paraded the corpse every day for a week.