Circe Book Review
Circe by Madeline Miller
*This review contains spoilers*
Content Warning
This review mentions rape.
Introduction
I want to preface this review by saying that I read this book concurrent with the Percy Jackson series by Rick Riordan, which is another Greek Mythology based retelling, just as Circe is. They're not the same, as Percy Jackson is a modern mythology retelling geared towards children and young adults, and Circe is adult literature that actually takes place in the ancient Greek setting. There is some overlap in characters, however.
I'm not sure if it helped me or hurt me to read these two retellings at the same time, but I'm leaning towards helped. The Percy Jackson series often explained who a particular mythological figure was to the reader, and it made it easier for me to understand the story, as I'm not familiar with all the major and minor Greek myth figures. Circe was written in more of an in-universe context that didn't give the reader explanation of who the figures that appeared were, as it would have broken the fourth wall. So, therefore, I think Percy Jackson actually enhanced my comprehension of what was going on in Circe.
I do think it was a good decision on Miller's part not to offer in-text explanations or brief biographies on who characters were in mythology to the reader. Not only because this novel was aimed at an older target audience than Percy Jackson, but also because it added a certain aspect of realism to Circe, making it feel like it's happening in real-time, with the myth coming to life as the events occur. So while all the characters were, in fact, real Greek mythological figures, they were all introduced organically into the story just as characters should be, without any pretext of out-of-universe context to break this air of realism and immersion. I praise Miller for keeping the story consistent in this regard, even if it makes it a bit harder for novices to Greek myth (like myself) to understand.
My personal recommendation to anyone who is interested in reading this novel, but who is not already familiar with Greek mythology, would be to familiarize yourself with the basics of the legend first, then read the novel. It will probably make your reading experience with Circe both easier and more enjoyable.
Summary & Review
Circe itself is a difficult book to review because I wouldn't consider it a conventional novel with a conventional plot structure. It does have the traditional course of exposition, incident, action, climax, and resolution. However, the timeline of the book covers thousands of years of the titular character Circe's life, and so it blurs the edges of clearly defining which point of the story marks each of these points in the traditional structure of a plot. The novel itself also isn't even four hundred pages long, so it might be difficult for a reader to remember that all the major events of the story are not necessarily happening within quick succession of one another, but rather we are hearing Circe retrospective accounting of the major moments of her life that shaped her into the goddess she became by the novel's conclusion.
Even though this all seems to break traditional plot structuring, and books that take place over the course of multiple generations are usually off-putting to me, I actually think this was a pro for Circe rather than a con. You can't write a novel about a goddess thousands of years old without covering that much history, but if you try to linger too long in each and every year of your life, you risk ending up with a novel that's about a million pages long, that meanders pointlessly in one place, and that is probably impossible for anyone to read and enjoy. Miller did an exceptional job of condensing Circe's very long life and history to hit on the most important parts, to keep the novel engaging rather than too lingering, as well structuring it as a real story with a plot rather than just regurgitating history at her readers.
Where the story starts, during Circe's younger life with her family and her father Helios, I initially struggled to get into the story. I wasn't sure why starting the story with Prometheus' punishment and Circe's interaction with him was such an important starting place. I kept waiting for it to become important later in the novel. Maybe this would have been too cliche, but I was expecting Circe to go after Prometheus eventually or for them to become lovers later. Of course, none of this happened, as this isn't part of Circe's myth. It did leave me a bit puzzled though as to the significance of Prometheus in the story at all, but perhaps if I knew more about the actual legend of Circe, this would become clearer to me.
Once the novel starts to get into Circe's infatuation with the mortal Glaucus, and her turning of him into a god, and of course everything that she did to Scylla, then the story really started to pick up for me. I was intrigued, which is interesting because, at this point in her development, Circe isn't really a likable character. I mean, come on, she turned another woman into a horrible, man-eating sea monster just because the dude she liked chose that woman over her? That's not just petty, it's downright sinister. Glaucus may not have treated Circe well, but Scylla didn't deserve what Circe did to her, especially not when the blame lay with Glaucus. That being said, as messed up as the entire situation was, this is Greek mythology after all, and I wasn't expecting anything less twisted. And at this point, I was hooked.
While this may be the moment that finally hooked me, the point where the story really starts to shine is in what happens after this-- when Circe's father is forced to banish his own daughter to a remote island in permanent exile as punishment for her actions. This is where Miller gets into what I believe is the real point of this entire retelling: un-demonizing Circe.
How can you possibly un-demonize a woman who pettily turned another woman into a monster over an arrogant man? Easy. First, you make her human.
Yes, Circe is technically a goddess, not a mortal. But by making her human, I don't literally mean a human. I mean by giving her humane qualities: strengths and weaknesses, flaws and skills, fleshing out her character until she stops feeling like a mythological goddess and more like someone who actually existed, who had her own life and story. And the result of doing this is that Circe goes from being an evil temptress who lures men to their dooms for pleasure, to being a strong, self-sustained woman who learned to defend herself.
This development of Circe's character begins early on in her banishment to the island of Aiaia in a rather disturbing moment when she offers her hospitality to a group of wayward sailors. The sailors end up taking advantage of her hospitality and her seemingly being alone there, and Circe ends up being raped. Unlike many stories that involve rape, nothing about this scene was gratuitous, unnecessarily violent, or extraneous to the story at hand. Miller handles it well, and the difference, I believe, is because it was written by a woman and not a man. What many male authors seem to fail at when writing content that involves sexual violence against women is that they don't know how to make those stories about a woman taking power back and condemning the violence. Often, the female characters they write are left being victimized for no apparent reason in the story, and their trauma isn't addressed properly. In Circe, however, this scene focuses on her. The following scenes focus on her trauma, her immediate, heart-wrenching reaction to the wrong that has been done to her. And then she takes power back--literally. She turns the men who attacked her into hogs and butchers them.
The legend of Circe is completely turned inside out as she's no longer the evil temptress. She's a woman who uses her magic to avenge herself, protect herself, and kill her attackers to get justice for herself. She isn't evil; she doesn't prey upon men for the sake of doing so. She's kind to those who don't try to take advantage of her hospitality, but she isn't afraid to take action when someone means to harm her.
The direction the story ultimately ends up going in after this point has its ups and downs. I enjoyed watching Circe express some more tender emotions when she seems to fall for Odysseus, yet at the same time, she has matured since her infatuation with Glaucus and is smart enough to realize that Odysseus doesn't have any real romantic feelings for her. The intimacy between them doesn't mean anything to Odysseus really, as his heart truly belongs to his wife.
Despite my unfamiliarity with the details of Circe's legend prior to reading the novel, I also wasn't surprised when she became pregnant by Odysseus either.
Watching Circe raise her son Telegonus was interesting, as this portion of the novel reminds me of the flaws Circe exhibited earlier in the novel with Glaucus and Scylla: petty, manipulative, vengeful. It certainly makes sense that she would be hesitant to let her son leave the island, as she would be in seclusion again if he did go, and it's certainly an understandable reaction to have, especially given Circe's fear of what might happen to her son per the warnings of the goddess Athena and her attempts to murder Telegonus. So while the attempts that Circe makes to keep Telegonus confined to Aiaia remind me more of her earlier, pre-developed self, they also do make sense given the context. She's not just an exile who fears being alone again, but she's also a mother who fears for the life of her son. It's complex and it's very human.
And then there's the final act.
Without going into too much of the details of it, Circe's son Telegonus does end up leaving Aiaia to meet his father, and he accidentally kills his father in self-defense, fulfilling Athena's warning to Circe that if her son lived, he would do something to cause her infinite pain. This leads Telegonus to bring Odysseus' widow Penelope and their son Telemachus to Aiaia. One thing happens, then a few more, and Circe ends up falling in love with Telemachus.
Don't get me wrong, I am happy to see that Circe finally found real love from someone who accepts her for who she is, after everything with Glaucus, and Hermes, and Odysseus, she earned that. But, am I happy that it's the son of her former lover, who is her own son's half-brother? Not really. It's not incest, and Circe and Telemachus themselves are not related, and with Odysseus dead, it removes an awkward barrier from their relationship, but something about it still makes my 21st-century-minded self's skin crawl. I certainly can't fault Miller for writing it this way, as she was keeping the novel's plot as accurate to the real myth as she could. And it's Greek mythology, so I suppose some degree of borderline incestuous relationships are to be expected. However, I do wish she had spent a larger portion of time developing the relationship between Circe and Telemachus, so that at the very least the reader could see why the conflict of interest of their various relations did not stand in the way of their falling in love. A more intensely and acutely built-up romance that really explores the connection between the two could have made it easier for me (and probably other fellow readers as well) to swallow this relationship. Instead, it seems to come about relatively too quickly, especially given how much Circe has matured since Glaucus, Hermes, and even Odysseus--whom her relationship with got more time devoted to than that with Telemachus.
I do like where the novel ultimately ends. Circe is confident enough in her skills to venture off the island, breaking the exile that was meant to be endless. She and Telemachus work together with Circe's new skill and powers to kill Scylla, allowing Circe to literally face her past demons and defeat them. She rights her previous wrong the best she can, so that Scylla will never kill anyone else because of the mistake Circe made so long ago. She also allows herself to become mortal, so that she can live the rest of her life with Telemachus. It's a happy ending for her, I suppose. I does what Miller appears to have set out to do: redeem Circe and humanize her, change the idea of her as an evil temptress to a strong woman and a feminist icon. And it works so well.
Final Thoughts
I would rate Circe a 4.0 out of 5 stars. It had some slower spots and a beginning that I struggled to get into, but it was very well written. I love the way Madeline Miller writes, as her prose feels both poetic and beautiful, but also simplistic and straightforward at the same time, and it left me eager to start her other novel The Song of Achilles. She clearly did her research on the real Greek myth for which Circe is based and did her best to stay true to it. Miller also did a splendid job of taking a female mythological figure who was once considered the monster and putting a unique, feminist twist on her story. I would gladly read it again sometime in the future.
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