Pearls before swine

Circe by Madeline Miller was my first encounter with Greek mythology for a long time - and I must say, I have missed it dearly. It brought back memories of my first ventures, in fact, which were due to an amazing book by Alain Quesnel (Greeks (Myths & Legends)) - published only a month after I was born.

I read that book so many times there was probably a time I could recite it by heart. And although Circe wasn't in it, all her companions in Miller's hugely enjoyable book were there - Athena, Zeus, Helios and the rest of the gang, all just as whimsical as I remembered.

I don't claim to be an aficionado of Greek mythology, but I approached Circe being more or less familiar with the story. But it didn't feel like it, and I mean that in the best possible way.

What did I like about it?

Reading Circe was like watching a film adaptation of a beloved book - all the stories I remembered factually came to life, dramatised and filled with emotions. The story of Circe, witch of Aiaia, starts on the level of gods, but eventually descends to the world of mortals, turning it into a very human story. It is a gripping one too, in the very spirit that anyone even remotely familiar with Greek mythology will be aware of: looming prophecies, tragedy, caprice and horror, delicious to the reading eye. Miller has used every literary source at her disposal to create a full picture of Circe's story, and thanks to this it is well-rounded. It also brushes shoulders with other famous tales, from Daedalus to Odysseus (obviously), which gave me similar feelings to when I recognise a location in a film (it gives me so much pleasure).

Another thing that I enjoyed was how strongly she kept most of the characters in this mythological spirit, too. Boys will be fierce and foolish; gods will be self-obsessed and ruthless. Nymphs will be b*tches (pardon). The mythology rings true, so to speak, and you could easily be fooled into thinking she really was just writing up the story that's already out there. But that would be wrong.

Finally, Scylla. Miller's words paint a vivid, horrifying picture of her - this is perhaps the strongest image in the book for me.

What was I not massively fond of?

I think that Circe suffers from a small structural issue. In the first half of the book, the plot is extremely dynamic, and key events follow on each page. It is the birth and creation of Circe - her backstory. Even when she is sent to Aiaia, she leaves - as it feels to us - almost immediately (even though in her world it's probably more like a centenary). I don't blame Miller for this; this is just how the story is. But I think perhaps it could have been balanced a little better, as we do spend considerable time lazying around on Aiaia with Penelope and Telemachus before the plot moves on again.

Another thing that stood out to me was Circe herself. I found my opinion changing all the time about her. At some points, she would be extremely wise and see things clearly; at others, she would be self-pitying and frail, even blushing and girly. Sentimental, you might say. Which is exactly how I imagine a demi-god to be, true. But still it felt that, much like the sea surrounding her island, her strength and weaknesses would come and go, but without much structure. Some critics are pointing out a feminist slant - reclaiming a character who's been dismissed as minor over time, painted as a villain - but that's not how the book struck me overall.

Despite this though, she is an incredibly likable witch, and of course we all root for her throughout the book. Circe, the misunderstood. She did it before it was cool.

Overall...

A very enjoyable retelling of a tale already famous and fascinating - who doesn't like a bit of magic? - but with more details and more power. Although sometimes mixing modern language and what feels like a good imitation of ancient style, the novel still flows and is truly a page-turner.

Who thought Greek mythology could feel so sexy again?

7/10