How Does Achilles' Character Evolve Throughout 'The Iliad'?

In 'The Iliad', the relationship between Achilles and Patroclus is profound and deeply emotional. As a young student, I saw their bond as more than just friendship; it’s like they’ve become each other’s whole world. Their connection is rooted in loyalty and understanding, magnified by the horrors of war surrounding them. Patroclus is kind of Achilles’ moral compass. When Patroclus dies, that’s when we really see Achilles go through the roof with rage and sorrow. It’s a pivotal moment, reflecting how love can drive someone to both greatness and destruction. The pain he feels fuels his revenge against Hector, and that ultimate showdown showcases the true cost of their bond—loss, vengeance, and the dark waves of grief. It's heart-wrenching and shows how deep connections can shape our actions in monumental ways. I'd recommend reading 'The Song of Achilles' by Madeline Miller for a beautiful take on their relationship.

John’s evolution in 'Brave New World' is a tragic descent from idealism to despair. Initially, he’s a romantic, raised on Shakespeare, believing in love, individuality, and suffering as noble. When he enters the World State, he’s horrified by its soulless efficiency. His attempts to resist—like throwing away soma—fail because the system is too entrenched. His final act, self-imposed exile and suicide, shows his complete disillusionment. Huxley uses John to critique a world that sacrifices humanity for stability.

Nick's evolution in 'Gone Girl' is a masterclass in psychological unraveling. Initially, he’s the archetypal 'nice guy'—a failed writer turned bar owner, coasting on charm. But Amy’s disappearance strips away his performative innocence. His lies about the affair and mounting debt expose his moral laziness. As media scrutiny intensifies, he morphs from bewildered husband to calculated performer, mirroring Amy’s manipulative genius. The turning point? His televised confession of being a 'liar,' which paradoxically wins public sympathy. By the end, he’s not redeemed—he’s adapted, trapped in a toxic symbiosis with Amy. Their final showdown reveals two people weaponizing intimacy, proving Nick’s 'growth' is really survivalist pragmatism. Gillian Flynn paints him as America’s disillusionment with white male mediocrity.

Bella starts off in 'Twilight' as this shy, almost introverted girl who’s just trying to fit in. When she moves to Forks, she’s somewhat awkward, surrounded by all these new people and situations. The striking contrast is when she gets pulled into the supernatural world with Edward and the Cullens. As I watch her, I can see how her feelings for Edward ignite something within her—she begins to break out of her shell, driven by the thrill and danger of the vampire world. Her initial passivity transforms; she’s making choices, stepping into the unknown. What’s captivating is how Bella goes from a girl who accepts everything around her to someone who actively seeks to change her fate. Later in the series, we see her become fiercely protective, especially over her family and friends. Her determination grows, and she starts to embrace her strength rather than shying away from it. By the end, when she finally becomes a vampire, it feels like a culmination of everything she’s endured. She trades her earlier fragility for a newfound power, which is super compelling. I can’t help but admire how she evolves through love and hardship, becoming someone who not only fights for what she wants but also commands her narrative. Books and movies often show this awesome journey from a timid girl to a confident woman, and 'Twilight' does a fantastic job exploring that in a very relatable way. Overall, Bella's evolution makes it easy to connect with her, and that's why I think many get hooked on her journey.

Long John Silver is such a wild character in 'Treasure Island'. At first, he seems like this charming, charismatic figure, pulling you in with his smooth talking. But as the story unfolds, you start seeing the darker side of him. He’s not just a pirate; he’s manipulative and cunning. What really gets me is how he plays both sides, acting like a friend to Jim while plotting against the crew. It’s like he’s got this double life going on. His evolution is fascinating because by the end, you realize that him being a cunning villain is just a part of his charm. It makes me question how much of him is a façade, and how much is the real Long John Silver. He’s a memorable character for sure!

Katniss’s evolution in 'Mockingjay' is intense and profoundly layered. At the story's start, she’s torn apart by the devastation around her. The trauma of war looms large, and she feels stuck between what she once believed in and the chaos surrounding her. She’s no longer the girl who volunteered for the 'Hunger Games'. Now, she grapples with guilt over Peeta’s suffering and her own role in the rebellion. It's heavy stuff, you know? I find her transformation captivating. She starts to push back against the Capitol and takes on a more significant, almost reluctant, role as the face of the rebellion. But what's paramount in 'Mockingjay' is her gradual realization that being a symbol isn’t what it's cracked up to be. The pressures of being the Mockingjay weigh down on her, and it’s like trying to carry a mountain on her back. The deeper she gets into the political web, the more she understands the moral complexities of war. There are no clear winners or losers; it’s all shades of gray. This struggle culminates in her growing distrust of leaders like Coin, exposing her to a harsh truth about the human condition. The moment she makes her final choice regarding Coin is pivotal; it shows how far she's come. Katniss isn’t just a pawn anymore; she actively decides her fate, pushing against those who would use her for their own ends. Ultimately, by the end, she’s scarred — emotionally and physically — but more aware of her agency. And though she seeks solace in her love for Peeta, it’s evident that she will never be the same girl again. The evolution from a fierce survivor to a thoughtful leader is not just refreshing, it's a reflection of the cost of war on one’s psyche. I appreciate how realistic this portrayal is, as it amplifies the message of resilience amidst chaos.

In 'Origin', relationships pivot around intellectual sparring and existential dread. Edmond Kirsch’s bond with Winston, his AI creation, starts as master-tool dynamics but morphs into eerie symbiosis—Winston’s loyalty transcends code, making their 'friendship' the story’s emotional core. Kirsch’s partnership with Ambra Vidal cracks under external pressures: her engagement to a prince clashes with their mission, forcing trust rebuilds through shared risks. The Church’s antagonism unites secular allies, while mentors like Bishop Valdespino reveal betrayal’s cost. By the end, relationships aren’t just connections but ideological battlegrounds. If you dig this, check 'The Three-Body Problem' for similar science-vs-humanity tension.

Morpheus’ journey in 'The Sandman' is a metamorphosis from icy archetype to vulnerable entity. Initially, he’s rigid—a cosmic bureaucrat obsessed with restoring his realm post-capture. His evolution begins when he confronts the fallout of his past tyranny: Nada’s eternal punishment, the Corinthian’s rebellion. Relationships humanize him—Hob Gadling’s friendship across centuries, Lyta Hall’s grief challenging his detachment. The Delirium road trip shatters his aloofness, forcing empathy. His sacrifice in ‘Season of Mists’—risking hell for a soul—marks a pivot toward accountability. By accepting death to reset the Dreaming’s stagnation, he transcends his function, becoming more than a concept. Neil Gaiman frames this as the cost of embracing change: even gods must grow or perish. Bonus read: ‘The Kindly Ones’ arc for his most gut-wrenching choices.