CIRCE by Madeline Miller (Book Review)
Circe : Percy Jackson for adults & The Odyssey for a modern audience.
Several years ago, I read The Penelopiad by Margaret Atwood and was blown away. You see, I’m a big fan of Greek mythology. It’s fascinating, isn’t it? Gods and goddesses ruling over their realms: Zeus over the sky and Hades over the Underworld. It’s a trope that was taught to me at a young age, at the same time as dragons and Peter Pan.
When I became older, I sought out Homer, the master blueprint, the origin story. And… I was disappointed. I didn’t get the sense of a vibrant three-dimensional world from the Iliad and Odyssey. The story seemed too linear: I wanted more stories about the grudges on Mount Olympus and the lives of ordinary Greeks. The glorious war poems about Achilles seemed too polished. The Penelopiad appeased my grievances.
Circe, by Madeline Miller, is very much like The Penelopiad. The main difference is that Circe is from the perspective of a god, not a mortal. It adheres more closely to Homeric epic elements without compromising on commentary and satirical jabs at the traditional mythologies.
I prefer The Penelopiad because it encompassed more perspectives and had an unconventional literary form. I liked how adventurous Atwood was. Atwood was more willing to push the boundaries of well-known Greek classics and more willing to risk offending Greek mythology traditionalists. Despite this, Circe is a close second.
A Warning
I’m not sure I would have enjoyed Circe if I didn’t know a bit of Greek mythology beforehand. I say this below as well, but Circe is to Greek mythology what Rogue One is to Star Wars. You kind of need to know what they’re talking about to enjoy it.
I’ve written another post to help you fill the gaps: Here’s everything you need to know to understand ‘Circe’ like a pro.
Some themes
The Besmirched
Brides, nymphs were called, but that is not really how the world saw us. We were an endless feast laid out upon a table, beautiful and renewing. And so very bad at getting away.
All who have been vilified or defamed, step forth! Miller invites an entire cast of Homeric characters to tell their version of the story.
Circe plays the role of Rogue One in the Star Wars universe, going back in time to fill plot holes and pay respect to the underdogs. Non-traditional heroes like Penelope and Daedalus step forward into the spotlight, and those we thought of as two-dimensional villains like Circe and Scylla are recharacterised.
It is a common saying that women are delicate creatures, flowers, eggs, anything that may be crushed in a moment’s carelessness. If I had ever believed it, I no longer did.
For fans of feminist literature, this book is definitely up your alley. The strong (often stronger) women who stood beside male gods and heroes are revealed and given a voice. Circe steps out from the shadow of Helios, Pasiphae from Minos, Medea from Jason, and Penelope from Odysseus.
In true Margaret Atwood fashion, the female characters in Circe are complex, entirely avoiding the angel/whore dichotomy. Surprisingly, I found myself entranced by Pasiphae, better known as the mother of the Minotaur. Childish and shallow at first, she develops into a clever, brutal and quietly powerful character who defies easy classification.
Mortality
Everything was united by the steady rise and fall of nature’s breath. Everything except for me.
I didn’t expect Circe, a goddess, to be the mouthpiece for potent insights on life, even though it was so clearly established at the very beginning that Circe has the voice of a mortal. The metaphor is right there!
It is really interesting to hear what a goddess has to say about life and death. To the gods who think very little of death at all, mortals are doomed to a short and insignificant life. They spend their days as slaves to death. The gods’ contempt towards humans are multiplied and validated by their inferior appearances: they look weaker, wizened and colourless.
Circe is different. She is humbled by mortality in a way that other gods are not. Her interactions with mortals are essential to her growth. While other gods remain static and stubborn, we readers see Circe’s character develop. In her showdown against Athena, Circe’s reverence and empathy for mortals are juxtaposed so harshly against Athena’s stubbornness that Circe appears stronger than the Goddess of War and Wisdom herself. In fact, Circe disputes whether Athena is wise at all. Wisdom, Miller says, is something that is earnt through experience and failure. What would Athena know about experience and failure?
She only knows reason. And that has never been the same as wisdom.
For the full context of Circe (necessary to spot all of Miller’s Easter eggs), check out my other post, Here’s everything you need to know to understand ‘Circe’ like a pro.
