Why Some People Still Don’t Accept Achillean Romances

One of the most fascinating things about language is that it is always changing and evolving. The way we used words even just ten years ago has changed dramatically. Go back further, and you’ll find vast differences between modern words and how they were used in the past.

One of the reasons for the constant shifting is slang. Slang changes and evolves with each subsequent generation, in part because young people seek to redefine themselves against their older peers. They want to sound “with it” and they feel the way their older peers speak and write is often outmoded. In fact, the way we use language can effectually carbon date us.

Another reason language moves on is because our understanding of something changes or evolves. This is also tied to a phenomenon where the currently “accepted” terminology for something becomes derogatory. For kids raised in the 1990s, the term special has taken on a sarcastic undertone.

So: language evolves and changes for many reasons. There is nothing wrong with that; in fact, in many cases, it’s a good thing.
One great example I can think of is the terms sapphic and achillean for describing the relationships in books. Yet some people don’t want to adopt this terminology—or outright reject the idea that achillean romance, in particular, should replace terms we’ve been using.

What Is Achillean Romance Anyway?

Before we dive into why achillean is a better descriptor that more of us should be using, let’s take a moment to define it. What the heck do we mean by achillean romance anyway?

Simply put, achillean romance is a romance between two (or more) masculine people. The term moves away from the older “m/m romance,” which is usually considered shorthand for “male/male” romance.

The move to “achillean” as the descriptor matches a similar push in the realm of lesbian fiction. Authors have embraced the term sapphic to describe their stories. Named for the Ancient Greek poet Sappho, the term suggests attraction of any level between two (or more) feminine people. It’s intended to run the gamut of stories.

It also tries to embrace a wider variety of gender identities than “f/f romance”—or female/female, which is the equivalent to m/m romance. While some argue “m/m romance” could also mean man/man romance, no such argument can be made for f/f romance. The “f” pretty obviously stands for “female” in this context.

Why Achillean Is a Better Term Than “M/M”

In the same vein, achillean draws on the mythology around the Iliad, the epic saga of the Trojan War. In his account, Homer gives us the tale of Achilles, the demigod warrior who was invulnerable everywhere except for his heel.

Achilles is something of an interesting figure in Greek mythology, especially if you’re looking for examples of queerness. The Ancient Greeks held that relationships between men were the pinnacle of romantic feeling. Relationships between men and women were necessary to carry on bloodlines and produce children, but the love between the different sexes was thought to be inferior to that experienced by two men toward each other. There was also an element of “teacher-student” in these relationships, as an older, more experienced man would take on a younger lover.

While plenty of people have pointed to this as grooming, it should be noted that the younger men were usually in their late teens and the “older” men were often in their early twenties. While still questionable by modern standards, in many ways, this was a ritual that allowed teenage boys and young men to “safely” indulge, while Greek women remained cloistered until marriage.

Achilles seems to embody this ritual in that he is a young man, not yet ready for marriage, who forms an intense relationship with another soldier, Patroclus. Patroclus is a similar age to Achilles, which suggests that perhaps they were more than merely friends. When Patroclus is killed, Achilles’s behavior certainly suggests this. He mourns Patroclus as much more than a friend, even by ancient standards.

Any Which Way, Achilles Is Queer

Some post-Homeric traditions also tell of Achilles being hidden away on the island of Skyros. One of his parents hid him away to keep him out the war, since it was foretold that he would either die young attaining glory or live a long life in relative obscurity. In order to hide him, he was disguised as a woman and lived among the king’s daughters. Thus, we also have Achilles in drag.

We can debate whether Achilles was attracted to Patroclus, whether he engaged in homosexual relations with Patroclus, or whether he was bi or pansexual, since he also fathered children by one of the princesses while he was hiding on Skyros. The long and short is that Achilles is, by and large, some kind of queer, especially in the post-Homeric tradition.

The idea of “achillean” fiction, then, is similar to sapphic fiction. It’s fiction focused on attraction between masculine people. This could be two “biological” males, but it also might be between two people who identify as men—or even those who simply see themselves as “masc.”

In this way, the term is more encompassing than “m/m romance.” It also leaves behind strict notions about biological sex, which is a complex and nuanced subject. Given that, the term is almost certainly a better fit for things like mpreg books and omegaverse fiction.

Why Some People Say It Doesn’t “Count”

Even though it’s demonstrably a better term, some people are stubbornly clinging to the outmoded “m/m romance” label. I have to say, I think sapphic fiction has got it right on this one. They’ve pretty much dispensed with “f/f romance” and moved almost exclusively to sapphic.

Why hasn’t achillean romance been able to get the same foothold? One reason is probably that f/f fiction has always been less popular. Softening the idea to “sapphic” fiction makes it, perhaps, more palatable. It seems to dispense with the notion that there is absolutely going to be sex involved.

On the flip of that, most readers of m/m romance are looking for explicitly spicy scenes. They’re also rather stubborn about insisting that, say, trans men don’t “count” as men. That’s another reason the term “m/m” is usually read as male/male, not man/man. The term “male” is thought to specifically preclude trans men, trans masc folks, nonbinary people, genderfluid individual, and other genderqueer folks.

Dismissing Achillean Romance Is Transphobic, Misogynistic, and Androgynist

And that should give you a hint about why achillean romance is both the superior term and one certain groups of people don’t want to embrace. The idea that we shouldn’t embrace a term that encompasses more than outmoded notions rooted in fundamentally flawed ideas of biological sex is, at heart, transphobic.

The people who want to keep using “m/m romance” want to do so because it necessarily precludes trans stories. They’re the people who say they don’t want any “pink” in their gay romances. They’re the ones who get squeamish about what other people have in their pants. And while it’s certainly fine to have preferences. I’m not always in the mood for a trans story, you know? But deciding that you need a marketing term that disqualifies a whole swath of men just so you can make sure the leads in your stories have the “right parts” is … pretty telling.

Women Being Misogynistic

A lot of readers and writers of “m/m romance” are cisgender women. Their stricture against the leads of gay romance stories having certain parts suggests a level of discomfort. In fact, it’s theorized that one of the reasons gay romance is so popular with women is that having two male leads avoids the issues around the sexualization of female bodies.

That isn’t a good reason to force trans men and other genderqueer people out into the cold. In fact, it’s all the more reason they should be included in the genre. Reading about masculine pleasure grafted onto what is ostensibly a “female” body should resonate more deeply with women readers.

In addition to being misogynistic, the exclusion of trans men, trans masc individuals, and other genderqueer folks could be considered androgynist. It suggests a hatred of men—particularly men or masculine people of a certain persuasion. Readers who insist on using the m/m romance label are interested in boiling people down to body parts. It suggests that these readers don’t like men in all the various shapes and forms they come in. It loans itself to purporting a particular kind of toxic masculinity.

Almost nothing could be further from the truth, though. So much of this category of books celebrates a diversity of masculinities. Why, then, should we not also accept, embrace, and celebrate a diversity of masculine bodies?

Why We Should Be More Accepting of Achillean Romance

The widespread acceptance of achillean romance, then, signals a move away from considering people only by their body parts. It points to a more complete embrace of masculinities and masculine diversities.

There are so very many ways to be a man in this world. Yet the label m/m romance would suggest there’s only one way to be a man. Still, the genre itself denies this, embracing different masculinities. In turn, the genre also needs to embrace more diversity not in just the performance or definition of masculinity but the bodies that it can be mapped onto as well.

After all, omegaverse already grafts “feminine” traits like childbearing onto “male” bodies. Why should we call something like that “male/male romance,” when the “male omega” is more like a trans man than anything? Achillean romance provides so much more flexibility in terms of which stories can be included—and those stories should be included.

With that in mind, it’s time to ditch the term “m/m romance” and embrace achillean romance as a better descriptor of the stories being told—and the ones that still need to be told.