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chucks_library's review against another edition
4.0
Although this book is titled Elektra we also get perspectives from Clytemnestra and Cassandra. This story is mainly about the trojan war told as it effects these 3 women. This shows the heartbreak, loss, trauma and violence that these women go through. You will be compelled to turn the page to find out how they will continue. I loved Clytemnestra's POV and relished reading her chapters. She felt the most complex and interesting of the 3 women. I love how Saint focuses on the women and while she does not exclude the men they are not the centre of the narrative. I loved reading this tale, but found that I preferred Hera or Atalanta. This is a great retelling I just wish that we got more from Elektra and Cassandra.
moonysweaters14's review against another edition
dark
emotional
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.25
carolynamora444's review against another edition
adventurous
dark
emotional
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
ptstewart's review against another edition
1.0
I was intentional about my decision to begin Elektra directly after finishing Costanza Casati’s Clytemnestra, and I will admit that, despite having studied Latin and Greek myths, language, and history for almost a collective decade, I am profoundly glad that Casati was my first foray into the world of true retellings. Because of my reading order, I was not predisposed to like Elektra’s character when I began reading, and I was certainly predisposed to loathe Agamemnon. These factors, I argue, greatly sour the read of Saint’s version.
Saint’s depiction of the ancient world—especially the relations between men and women—seems a PG, or PG-13 at best, version of what is canonically a far more gruesome and sinister time and place. Relatively bright, the world is greatly impacted by the naivety of all three of its leading women whose descents into vengeance and despair feel surface level due to unearned anger (in the case of Elektra), drama (Cassandra), and violence (Clytemnestra). Perhaps, this is in part due to Elektra being a very near recounting of the original myths and stories; those arguing this is a re-imagination, in my opinion, are snorting something. While we see more of the three women than we would otherwise, the addition of further depth and complexity to any of the characters is negligible. Rather, the traits depicted in the original myths (despair, a thirst for revenge, loyalty) are merely exacerbated and overdramatized, making the women only marginally more interesting than they were in the first place. Overshadowing the potential for each of these characters and their traits is naivety communicated through overdramatized writing and women who do not know who they are beyond their primary characteristics.
A few examples of the above:
“Orestes is dead! [I chase Aegisthus through the palace]. My son is alive! He stands before Aegisthus.” Is this what we are settling for in terms of thoughtful, observant, calculated, and feminist female characters? There is so much telling rather than showing in this novel, it was nearly unbearable. The more significant problem here, however, is that Clytemnestra, who is supposed to be ruthless and vengeful and powerful, comes across as so simpleminded in lines like this that the reader cannot possibly believe she is any of the aforementioned. The alternative explanation for this is that Saint is attempting to adhere more closely to The Libation Bearers text, which is successful as a play, but less so as a novel.
“If my sister dies at your brother’s hand, and you do not lift a finger to stop it, you will be the worst and most cowardly of all.” Clytemnestra spits this at Agamemnon before he leaves for Troy, and let me tell you: Saint seems to argue that at the psychological root of Clytemnestra’s demise, outside of grief, will be an arbitrary and unexplained conception of right and wrong upon which she has hung her understanding of goodness and power, and I don’t buy it. The queen seems to entirely misunderstand the violence and gender dynamics of the ancient world and place them both in the context of modern perceptions of sexism and pacifism while not making the character herself believable within the context of her own world.
“What holds me to Mycenae?” Unfortunately, each of these examples is Clytemnestra, who is far and away the most interesting character of the three included. However, she asks a question herself that I wonder if Saint took the time to consider. By the time Clytemnestra considers this, many years have passed since her murder of Agamemnon, during which time she has sought out her missing son (her fear that he is dead presumably indicates love for him, as she does not wish for Aegisthus to murder him) and attempted on multiple occasions to repair the relationship with Elektra, which are the only glimpses we get to her during this time and, therefore, characterize her as regretful and loving, exactly as she was before. She has no indicated relationship with her sister or with Sparta at all, and Aegisthus has largely taken all of the rule of Mycenae from her, so why does she stay? Her familial relationships are weak, she is not waiting for Agamemnon, she feels no draw to Mycenae, she has limited if any ruling power, and she has wealth no matter where she goes, so why does she stay? Clytemnestra’s exclusive driving force has been her revenge for Iphigenia, which makes her characterization after Agamemnon’s murder rudderless and weak. This is especially disappointing having read Clytemnestra, in which the queen is vengeful and ruthless, yes, but also consistently loving, sympathetic, power-hungry, and intent upon her freedom.
Cassandra, who interestingly shares the view of the Trojan War, comes across has hysterical and dramatic. She has only minimal dialogue—that I noticed—with other people, making her connections to other people seem limited and her motivation unclear. Like Clytemnestra near the end, she does not read as if she has much of a purpose, so when her point of view abruptly disappears three quarters of the way into the novel, my only dismay was at the choice to include her at all.
If you have read the novel and did not love it, I am certain you are waiting for the most significant complaint, which is of course the mind numbing, nails on a chalkboard, unending whining of Elektra herself. My God. And while I have endless points about this, I found her utterly insufferable, so I won’t waste my time with most of them. However, I will discuss this much: Elektra’s exclusive personality trait, besides being whiny, entitled as an actual princess, haughty, and selfish (which are all personality traits of hers, truly, but which are collectively really only 5% of her), is her unwavering devotion, love, and sometimes sexual/physical need for her absent father and her resulting hate for her mother. Saint’s adherence to the Freudian Electra complex in a novel that is supposedly meant to shed light upon the forgotten or ignored women of ancient mythology is unimaginably disappointing and frustrating. I openly cannot stand Freud, and while I know some love him, my dislike stems from Freud’s overt and notorious sexism (e.g. he told women who revealed childhood sexual abuse by their fathers that they were both making it up and fantasizing about sleeping with their fathers, and that’s only one example) and assertion that women were an elusive and impossible to understand subject, despite spending his entire life studying the psychology of men and their dicks; sexism influenced and encouraged by laziness and disinterest in women as complex beings. To adhere to a characterization by Freud in a novel that is marketed as feminist in its very content is an absurd and catastrophic failure.
I should add that there are aspects Saint executes well, such as misunderstandings between mother and daughter and misperceptions of actions between two characters. She also handles the idea that different people will receive information differently very well, but I would argue not in such a startlingly impressive manner that it outshines the disappointment of the voices she gives to women who deserved better in their original stories and should receive better now.
Saint’s depiction of the ancient world—especially the relations between men and women—seems a PG, or PG-13 at best, version of what is canonically a far more gruesome and sinister time and place. Relatively bright, the world is greatly impacted by the naivety of all three of its leading women whose descents into vengeance and despair feel surface level due to unearned anger (in the case of Elektra), drama (Cassandra), and violence (Clytemnestra). Perhaps, this is in part due to Elektra being a very near recounting of the original myths and stories; those arguing this is a re-imagination, in my opinion, are snorting something. While we see more of the three women than we would otherwise, the addition of further depth and complexity to any of the characters is negligible. Rather, the traits depicted in the original myths (despair, a thirst for revenge, loyalty) are merely exacerbated and overdramatized, making the women only marginally more interesting than they were in the first place. Overshadowing the potential for each of these characters and their traits is naivety communicated through overdramatized writing and women who do not know who they are beyond their primary characteristics.
A few examples of the above:
“Orestes is dead! [I chase Aegisthus through the palace]. My son is alive! He stands before Aegisthus.” Is this what we are settling for in terms of thoughtful, observant, calculated, and feminist female characters? There is so much telling rather than showing in this novel, it was nearly unbearable. The more significant problem here, however, is that Clytemnestra, who is supposed to be ruthless and vengeful and powerful, comes across as so simpleminded in lines like this that the reader cannot possibly believe she is any of the aforementioned. The alternative explanation for this is that Saint is attempting to adhere more closely to The Libation Bearers text, which is successful as a play, but less so as a novel.
“If my sister dies at your brother’s hand, and you do not lift a finger to stop it, you will be the worst and most cowardly of all.” Clytemnestra spits this at Agamemnon before he leaves for Troy, and let me tell you: Saint seems to argue that at the psychological root of Clytemnestra’s demise, outside of grief, will be an arbitrary and unexplained conception of right and wrong upon which she has hung her understanding of goodness and power, and I don’t buy it. The queen seems to entirely misunderstand the violence and gender dynamics of the ancient world and place them both in the context of modern perceptions of sexism and pacifism while not making the character herself believable within the context of her own world.
“What holds me to Mycenae?” Unfortunately, each of these examples is Clytemnestra, who is far and away the most interesting character of the three included. However, she asks a question herself that I wonder if Saint took the time to consider. By the time Clytemnestra considers this, many years have passed since her murder of Agamemnon, during which time she has sought out her missing son (her fear that he is dead presumably indicates love for him, as she does not wish for Aegisthus to murder him) and attempted on multiple occasions to repair the relationship with Elektra, which are the only glimpses we get to her during this time and, therefore, characterize her as regretful and loving, exactly as she was before. She has no indicated relationship with her sister or with Sparta at all, and Aegisthus has largely taken all of the rule of Mycenae from her, so why does she stay? Her familial relationships are weak, she is not waiting for Agamemnon, she feels no draw to Mycenae, she has limited if any ruling power, and she has wealth no matter where she goes, so why does she stay? Clytemnestra’s exclusive driving force has been her revenge for Iphigenia, which makes her characterization after Agamemnon’s murder rudderless and weak. This is especially disappointing having read Clytemnestra, in which the queen is vengeful and ruthless, yes, but also consistently loving, sympathetic, power-hungry, and intent upon her freedom.
Cassandra, who interestingly shares the view of the Trojan War, comes across has hysterical and dramatic. She has only minimal dialogue—that I noticed—with other people, making her connections to other people seem limited and her motivation unclear. Like Clytemnestra near the end, she does not read as if she has much of a purpose, so when her point of view abruptly disappears three quarters of the way into the novel, my only dismay was at the choice to include her at all.
If you have read the novel and did not love it, I am certain you are waiting for the most significant complaint, which is of course the mind numbing, nails on a chalkboard, unending whining of Elektra herself. My God. And while I have endless points about this, I found her utterly insufferable, so I won’t waste my time with most of them. However, I will discuss this much: Elektra’s exclusive personality trait, besides being whiny, entitled as an actual princess, haughty, and selfish (which are all personality traits of hers, truly, but which are collectively really only 5% of her), is her unwavering devotion, love, and sometimes sexual/physical need for her absent father and her resulting hate for her mother. Saint’s adherence to the Freudian Electra complex in a novel that is supposedly meant to shed light upon the forgotten or ignored women of ancient mythology is unimaginably disappointing and frustrating. I openly cannot stand Freud, and while I know some love him, my dislike stems from Freud’s overt and notorious sexism (e.g. he told women who revealed childhood sexual abuse by their fathers that they were both making it up and fantasizing about sleeping with their fathers, and that’s only one example) and assertion that women were an elusive and impossible to understand subject, despite spending his entire life studying the psychology of men and their dicks; sexism influenced and encouraged by laziness and disinterest in women as complex beings. To adhere to a characterization by Freud in a novel that is marketed as feminist in its very content is an absurd and catastrophic failure.
I should add that there are aspects Saint executes well, such as misunderstandings between mother and daughter and misperceptions of actions between two characters. She also handles the idea that different people will receive information differently very well, but I would argue not in such a startlingly impressive manner that it outshines the disappointment of the voices she gives to women who deserved better in their original stories and should receive better now.
irrumnaaz's review against another edition
dark
mysterious
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
akpaschal's review against another edition
adventurous
emotional
informative
tense
medium-paced
- Diverse cast of characters? No
3.75
jennyredgate's review against another edition
3.0
god I just couldn’t stand to listen to Elektra’s constant whining
marieeee_v's review against another edition
dark
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.25
emilyurebuckley's review against another edition
adventurous
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
ayazhan's review against another edition
i think it might be time for me to give up on these modern retellings - they always seem to strip the original tragedies of their raw momentum. there is less space for ambiguity, no matter what the author does. i always have to grit my teeth to get through them. but the writing was beautiful.