300 Isn’t Historically Accurate And That Makes The Story Better

Writer Frank Miller’s 300, published by Dark Horse Comics, is definitely one of the most—if not the most—popular comics related to history. The ultimate last stand story, the idea of a few noble soldiers defending their people against the hordes of a ruthless empire is definitely beguiling. However, many have brought attention to the creative freedoms taken by Miller to make the whole story of the Spartans and the Battle of Thermopylae (the “Hot Gates”) more dramatic. But is that creative freedom a bad thing? Or is a comic’s job, first and foremost, to tell a captivating, maybe even purposely over-the-top, story? A story that, by the way, was perfect for a film adaptation.

So, let us get some things cleared up, both accuracies and inaccuracies: Spartans were not all about freedom. Sparta had not one, but two kings and they despised the democratic system of the city-state of Athens (an extremely flawed democracy by today’s standards, but still). They had many slaves, then called helots, and quite a few of them were murdered as part of Sparta’s brutal military training. Spartan society was cruel and merciless, not freedom-loving and governed by logic, which is a clear contradiction that Miller himself entraps into in the story. If they are so freedom-loving, why does every man have to do the exact same thing, which is survive training, complete it, serve Sparta, and ultimately die for Sparta? Is freedom interpreted as being subjugated by your state, while your state itself is free from invaders?

The whole “You see, old friend? I brought more soldiers than you did,” titbit is approximate to reality, but from a different point in history and not involving King Leonidas, who by the way was not a strapping fifty-year-old, but a very much active and militant sixty-year-old man upon his death (probably). Leonidas was also not the direct heir to the throne, which is why it is most likely true he went through the agoge, like regular Spartan male citizens, as the comic shows. Spartans did not fight semi-naked, they had armor. Also, let’s just say that Leonidas’s comment about Athenians being “boy-lovers” would be pointless and disingenuous, to say the least, considering some of Sparta’s traditions.

300 Should Not Be Read As A History Textbook

The Persians were not a horde or barbarians or anything of the sort. Were they expansionist and militaristic? Sure. But the Spartans were militaristic and the Greeks were expansionist, just like the Romans after them. It was not uncommon. The Persians were an extremely advanced people, involved in science, math, and architecture, to name a few disciplines. Xerxes was not so tall, was not painted gold, and did not have a hundred piercings (although there would be nothing wrong with that).

All the above are true. But this is also true: 300 is not a history text or lesson. And it is also definitely not a manual according to which the reader should live. It is a comic book; a story. And it should be treated as such. It should be read critically (that is important for any story), but it should—and can—also be enjoyed.

Yes, the Spartans fought clad in heavy armor in reality, but don’t they appear much grittier, more cinematic, sexier, and flowing with just their red cloaks and helmets on the appropriately wide scale pages of 300? Yes, the Λ (for Λακεδαίμονα / Lacedaemon Province, the region where Sparta was) was not added on Spartan shields until years later, but doesn’t it look emblematic? Imposing? And should our enjoyment of the story be hindered by aesthetic choices that actually make the art, the image, better, simply because they are inaccurate?

The story of the 300 Spartans who did not concede and did not surrender has been romanticized for centuries. Frank Miller was not the first to recount it and he won’t be the last. By extension, their whole culture is sometimes romanticized, idealized, although there were not many ideal things about it. They are glorified by Miller and he makes their glorification of their own ways (and their relentless insistence on them, in spite of everything) their tragic, but expected, downfall. That makes for an extremely compelling story, more compelling than the truth, but whether or not it was intentional is anyone’s guess.

The Spartans Were Not Betrayed By A Deformed Outcast

What does that mean? Well, here is another fact: Ephialtes was not a Spartan, he lived in one of the regions surrounding the Hot Gates. He was also not deformed and he had nothing personal against the Spartans. He simply expected a reward from Persians in exchange for leading them behind the Greek lines. He was motivated by material things, nothing more. As a historical figure, he was not redeemable or sympathetic in any manner. Sounds… basic and a bit dull, does it not?

By making Ephialtes into a scorned Spartan, Miller added whole layers to the story. The Spartans did discard any baby who did not meet their standards of “perfection”. Ephialtes would have been murdered if his parents had not abandoned Sparta. That comes with a few implications: Ephialtes’s parents may have loved him, but they were also likely to despise him, if they were fanatic Spartans. They had to abandon their lives there, and while it was not his fault, they may have thought so. That was the first time Ephialtes was betrayed by Sparta and her ways. Spartans were raised with an extreme sense of duty to one’s nation; and if one were deemed unable to fulfill that duty, they were nothing, as Ephialtes’s father perhaps informed him – repeatedly. Still, Ephialtes was trained by him as a warrior and did not turn his back on the idea of proving himself to Sparta; of Sparta actually admitting she was wrong by accepting him as a soldier.

And then Leonidas rejected him for a second time, in spite of him being trained and, as the Spartan King admitted, quite capable with the spear. In that moment, Ephialtes felt like everything was a lie: his training, his beliefs so far, his parents’ “sacrifice,” it was all shattered. So, if he could not have what the Spartans had, he would take what the Persians offered. If he couldn’t be “rewarded” with equal treatment, he would be satisfied by revenge and materials. Thus, the Spartan King sealed his men’s fate because he could not, even for one moment, think differently and he couldn’t let go of his deeply held beliefs about who was “capable.” And when Ephialtes regrets his betrayal, it’s too late. To be clear, this is not a justification of Ephialtes’s actions as a character; just an analysis of his motivations and an explanation as to why this fictionalized version of him and his motives makes for a better story.

At the end of the day, 300 is flawed with flawed heroes, like many a work of art before and after it. But the historical inaccuracies, blended with the true history, are there for a reason: in this fictionalized version of real events, many of these inaccuracies make for a more engaging narrative.

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