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A review by columnclub
Circe by Madeline Miller
challenging
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.0
I have some conflicting feelings about this one. Part of it was that I think the marketing made some really baffling decisions. The quote on the back of my copy, for example, says:
"Circe back as superwoman ... Miller's Me Too-era, kickass portrait of a woman trying to defy the men arrayed against her."
I mean... really?
So from the beginning, the publishing choices made here posited this as a Feminist Novel. Circe is a Hashtag Girlboss. And that felt kind of jarring to me, because Miller also knows full well that the experiences of goddesses and mortal women are so different as to be incomparable, which is kind of a major idea in Greek mythology and especially the epic cycle, and in a few ways this could be seen as not a particularly feminist novel at all. So applying very watered-down feminist terminology in that ill-fitting context didn't exactly make me excited to read it.
That doesn't at all mean that Circe's story here isn't interesting – it is, and it's well told pretty much throughout. So I wish Miller's writing was what everyone had focused on here, because really, the expectation that centring the women in Greek myth has to result in a novel where the characters are "kickass" does a disservice to everyone involved.
I'm struggling not to review it in terms of how feminist it was, mostly because of that ridiculous quote and others like it. So is it particularly feminist? Yes, in the sense that there are several highly nuanced female characters, and the relationship between Circe and Penelope, though initially quite disappointing, ends on a really interesting and thoughtful note. But also, no? Circe is so different here to the Circe in myth: the fact that her characterisation largely includes a rejection of her divinity sums up a lot of that, and my biggest objection personally was the reason given for why she turns men into pigs. I have a personal dislike for traumatic scenes being inserted as a justification for parts of the story we accept in canon. Couldn't she just have been a witch, who lives on her own terms and doesn't tolerate men who aren't at least sufficiently resourceful heroes? Essentially, it took a very morally grey character and made her far more sympathetic in a way that could be seen as making her less interesting. Even Odysseus is allowed to be a character with some hugely questionable moral choices here, so couldn't Circe have been a compelling antihero too? Was it more feminist to make her kinder?
But, as above, I didn't want to evaluate this on the basis of how feminist was. I don't think anyone really should do that, including the marketing team at Bloomsbury, honestly. So Circe as a more sympathetic character is a perfectly valid choice, and the closing pages, for me, were one of the absolute highlights.
The reason it's three stars for me largely comes down to structure: it feels very episodic and slow in a way that's initially charming, and becomes a little wearisome in the second half. It has about three different endings. And in terms of how it employed myth, I loved the presentation of characters like Prometheus, Pasiphae and Daedalus – others less so. Telemachus is probably my least favourite character from the Odyssey, so I was a little baffled at how he's used here. I also, like pretty much everyone else, hate the Telegony and what it does to the epic cycle, and wasn't really convinced that using that material made this a better narrative.
Overall, though, this was written in an evocative and compelling voice (of course), with a wealth of interesting things to say. I especially liked the first half, and the way Circe's powers are written and used as a narrative device was a highlight. It started to fall down for me when it began following the events of the epic cycle more closely, but perhaps those closing pages made up for it.
So from the beginning, the publishing choices made here posited this as a Feminist Novel. Circe is a Hashtag Girlboss. And that felt kind of jarring to me, because Miller also knows full well that the experiences of goddesses and mortal women are so different as to be incomparable, which is kind of a major idea in Greek mythology and especially the epic cycle, and in a few ways this could be seen as not a particularly feminist novel at all. So applying very watered-down feminist terminology in that ill-fitting context didn't exactly make me excited to read it.
That doesn't at all mean that Circe's story here isn't interesting – it is, and it's well told pretty much throughout. So I wish Miller's writing was what everyone had focused on here, because really, the expectation that centring the women in Greek myth has to result in a novel where the characters are "kickass" does a disservice to everyone involved.
I'm struggling not to review it in terms of how feminist it was, mostly because of that ridiculous quote and others like it. So is it particularly feminist? Yes, in the sense that there are several highly nuanced female characters, and the relationship between Circe and Penelope, though initially quite disappointing, ends on a really interesting and thoughtful note. But also, no? Circe is so different here to the Circe in myth: the fact that her characterisation largely includes a rejection of her divinity sums up a lot of that, and my biggest objection personally was the reason given for why she turns men into pigs.
But, as above, I didn't want to evaluate this on the basis of how feminist was. I don't think anyone really should do that, including the marketing team at Bloomsbury, honestly. So Circe as a more sympathetic character is a perfectly valid choice, and the closing pages, for me, were one of the absolute highlights.
The reason it's three stars for me largely comes down to structure: it feels very episodic and slow in a way that's initially charming, and becomes a little wearisome in the second half. It has about three different endings. And in terms of how it employed myth, I loved the presentation of characters like Prometheus, Pasiphae and Daedalus – others less so. Telemachus is probably my least favourite character from the Odyssey, so I was a little baffled at how he's used here. I also, like pretty much everyone else, hate the Telegony and what it does to the epic cycle, and wasn't really convinced that using that material made this a better narrative.
Overall, though, this was written in an evocative and compelling voice (of course), with a wealth of interesting things to say. I especially liked the first half, and the way Circe's powers are written and used as a narrative device was a highlight. It started to fall down for me when it began following the events of the epic cycle more closely, but perhaps those closing pages made up for it.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Animal death, Infidelity, Rape, Sexual assault, Sexual violence, Medical trauma, and Pregnancy
Moderate: Body horror, Confinement, Death, Emotional abuse, Physical abuse, and Abandonment
Minor: Incest and War