User Reviews
Rating: really liked it
Men, can’t live with ‘em, can’t turn ‘em all into swine.
What do you mean
turn them into swine? From her earliest application of her new found transformative skills it is suggested that what Circe turns her unfortunate guests into has more to do with their innermost nature than Circe’s selection of a target form. (
The strength of those flowers lay in their sap, which could transform any creature to its truest self.) Clearly her sty residents had an oinky predisposition. And I am sure that there are many who had started the transformation long before landing on her island.
Whaddya call the large sty Circe filled with erstwhile men? A good start.
Ok. You had to know this would be part of the deal for this review. So, now that I have gotten it out of my system, (it is out, right?) we can proceed.
When I was born, the name for what I was did not exist.
It was a word that Barbara Bush might have had in mind when she described Geraldine Ferraro, her husband’s opponent for the Vice Presidency, in 1984. “"I can't say it, but it rhymes with 'rich,'" she said, later insisting that the word in question did not begin with a “b,” but a “w.” Sure, whatever. But in this case, I suppose both might apply. Circe is indeed the first witch in western literature. And many a sailing crew might have had unkind things to say about her.
Madeline Miller - image from
The TimesOur primary introduction to Circe (which we pronounce as Sir-Sea, and even Miller goes along with this, so people don’t throw things at her. But for how it might be pronounced in Greek, you know, the
proper way, you might check out this link. Put that down, there will be no throwing of things in this review!) was that wondrous classic of Western literature,
The Odyssey. Given how many times this and its companion volume,
The Iliad, have been reworked through the ages, it is no surprise that there have been many variations on the stories they told. Circe’s story has seen its share of re-imaginings as well. But Miller tries to stick fairly close to the Homeric version. Be warned, though,
some license was taken, and other sources inspired the work as well. But it is from Homer that
we get the primary association we have with her name, the magical transmutation of men into pigs.
George Romney's 1782 portrait of Emma Hamilton as Circe - image from wikipedia
We follow the life of our Ur-witch from birth to whatever. She did not start out with much by way of godly powers. Her mother, Perse, daughter of the sea-god Oceanos, was a nymph, and her father was Helios, the sun god. Despite the lofty position of Pop’s place in things, Circe was just a nymph, on the low end of the godly powers scale. This did not help in the family to which she had been born. Not one of her parents’ favorites, she was blessed with neither power nor beauty, had a very ungod-like human-level voice, and her sibs were not exactly the nicest. Kinda tough to keep up when daddy is the actual bloody sun.
Years pass, and one day she comes across a mortal fisherman. He seems pretty nice, someone she can talk to. She’d like to take it to the next stage, so she lays low, listens in on family gatherings, and picks up intel on substances that might be used to effect powerful and advantageous changes. She asks her grandmother, Tethys, (very Lannisterish wife AND SISTER to Oceanos) to transform him into a god for her, but Granny throws her out, alarmed when her granddaughter mentions this
pharmakos stuff she had been looking into. Left to her own devices she tries this out on her bf, making him into his truest self. It does not end the way she’d hoped. (Pearls before you-know-what.) Not the last bad experience she would have with a man.
Levy’s 1889 Circe - image from wikipedia
Her relationships with men are actually not
all bad. Daddy is singularly unfeeling, and can be pretty dim for such a bright bulb, and her brothers are far less than wonderful, but there is some good in her sibling connections as well. She has a warm interaction with a titan, Prometheus, which is a net positive. Later, she has an interesting relationship with Hermes, who is
not to be trusted, but who offers some helpful guidance. And then there are the mortals, Daedalus (the master artist, the Michelangelo, the Leonardo da Vinci of his era), Jason, of Argonaut fame, Odysseus, who you may have heard of, and more. There were dark encounters as well, and thus the whole turning-men-into-pigs thing.
Brewer's 1892 Circe and Her Swine - image from Wikipedia
Miller has had a passion for the classics since she was eight, when her mother read her the
Iliad and began taking her to Egyptian and Greek exhibits at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. It made her a nerdy classmate but was a boon when she got to college and was able to find peers who shared her love of the ancient tales. It was this passion that led her to write her first novel, The Song of Achilles, a reimagining of Achilles relationship with his lover, Patroclus, a delight of a book, a Times bestseller, and winner of the Orange prize. It took her ten years to write her first novel, about seven for this one and the gestation period for number three remains to be seen. She is weighing whether to base it on Shakespeare’s
The Tempest or Virgil’s
Aeneid. If past is portent, it will be the latter, and should be ready by about 2025.
Ulysses and Circe, Angelica Kauffmann, 1786. - image from Miller’s site
The central, driving force in the story is Circe becoming her fullest possible self. (I suppose one might say she made a silk purse from a sow’s ear. I wouldn’t, but some might.)
This is the story of a woman finding her power and, as part of that, finding her voice. She starts out really unable to say what she thinks and by the end of the book, she’s able to live life on her terms and say what she thinks and what she feels. - from the Bookriot interview
Most gods are awful sorts, vain, selfish, greedy, careless of the harm they do to others. Circe actually has better inclinations. For instance, when Prometheus is being tortured by the titans for the crime of giving fire to humans, Circe alone is kind to him, bringing him nectar, and talking with him when no one else offers him anything but anger and scorn. She is curious about mortals, and asks him about them, going so far as to cut herself to experience a bit of humanity.
Carracci's c. 1590 Ulysses and Circe in the Farnese Palace - image from Wikipedia
Livestock comes in for some attention outside the sty. Turns out Circe’s father has a thing for a well-turned fetlock, so maybe she comes by her affinity for animals of all sorts, albeit in a very different way, quite naturally. Her island is rich with diverse fauna, including some close companions most of us would flee. An early version of Doctor Doolittle?
Scholars have debated whether Circe’s pet lions are supposed to be transformed men, or merely tamed beasts. In my novel, I chose to make them actual animals, because I wanted to honor Circe’s connection to Eastern and Anatolian goddesses like Cybele. Such goddesses also had power over fierce animals, and are known by the title Potnia Theron, Mistress of the Beasts.
Not be confused with The Beastmaster
Circe and Odysseus. Allessandro Allori, 1560 - image from Miller’s site
While she has her darker side (she does change her nymph love-rival Scylla into a beast of epic proportions, which gets her sent to her room, or in this case, island, and there is that pig thing again) she is also a welcoming hostess on her isle of exile, Aiaia. (Which sounds to me like the palindromic beginning of a lament, Aiaiaiaiaiaiaia, which might feel a bit more familiar with a minor transformation, to oy-oy-oy-oy-oy-oy-oy-oy). I mean, she runs a pretty nifty BnB, with free-roaming wild animals, of both the barnyard and terrifying sort, a steady flow of wayward nymphs sent there by desperate parents in hopes that Circe might transform them into less troublesome progeny, a table with a seemingly bottomless supply of food and drink. And she is more than willing to offer special services to world-class mortals, among others. I mean, after that little misunderstanding with Odysseus about his men, (Pigs? What pigs? What could you possibly mean? Oh, you mean
those pigs. Oopsy. How careless of me.) she not only invites everyone to stay for a prolonged vacay, but shacks up with the peripatetic one, offers him instructions on reaching the underworld, suggests ways to get past Scylla and Charybdis, and probably packs bag lunches for him and his crew. She is not all bad.
Barker's 1889 Circe - image from Wikipedia
Circe struggles with the mortals-vs-immortals tension. Her mortal voice makes her less frightening to the short-lived ones, allowing her to establish actual relationships with them that a more boombox-voice-level deity might not be able to manage. Of course, it is still quite limiting that even the youngest of her mortal love interests would wither and die while she remained the same age pretty much forever. Knowing that you will see any man you love die is a definite limiting factor. Yet, she manages. She certainly recognizes what a psycho crew the immortals are, even her immediate family, and respects that mortals who gain fame do so by the sweat of their brow or extreme cunning, (even if it is to dark purpose) not their questionable godly DNA. Reinforcing this is her front row seat to the real-housewives tension between the erstwhile global rulers, the Titans, and the relatively new champions of everything there is, the Olympians. I mean, perpetual torture, thunderbolts, ongoing seditious plots, the nurturing of monsters, wholesale slaughter of mortals? She knows a thing or two, because she’s seen a thing or two.
My thoughts about [Circe as caregiver] really start with the gods, who in Greek myth are horrendous creatures. Selfish, totally invested only in their own desires, and unable to really care for anyone but themselves. Circe has this impulse from the beginning to care for other people. She has this initial encounter with Prometheus where she comes across another god who seems to understand that and also who triggers that impulse in her. I wanted to write about what it’s like when you to want to try to be a good person, but you have absolutely no models for that. How do you construct a moral view coming from a completely immoral family? - from Bookriot interview
Circe Offering the Cup to Odysseus – by John William Waterhouse – 1891 - image from Wikimedia
Of course, there is a pretty straight line between the sort of MCP hogwash Circe had to endure in the wayback and recent events that have been getting so much attention of late
“I wasn’t trying to write Circe’s story in a modern way… I was just trying to be true to her experience in the ancient world.”
“It was a very eerie experience. I would put the book away and check the news. The top story was literally the same issue I had just been writing about — sexual assault, abuse, men refusing to allow women to have any power ... I was drawn to the mystery of her character — why is she turning men into pigs?” – from The Times interview
There are plenty of classical connections peppered throughout Circe’s tale. Jason and Medea (niece) pop by for a spell. She is summoned to assist in the birthing of the minotaur (nephew) to her seriously nasty sister. She is part of Scylla’s origin story, interacts with Prometheus (cousin), gives shit to Athena, even heads into the briny deep to take a meeting with a huge sea creature (no, not the Kraaken). Hangs with Penelope (her bf’s wife) and Telemachus (bf’s son), and spends a lot of time with Hermes. She definitely had a life, many even, particularly for someone who was ostracized to live on an island.
For Circe, I would say the Odyssey was my primary touch-stone in the sense that that’s where I started building the character. I take character clues directly from Homer’s text, both large and small. I mentioned her mortal-like voice. The lions. The pigs. And then when I get to the Odysseus episode in the book, I follow Homer obviously very closely… - from the BookRiot interview
"Circea", #38 in Boccaccio's c. 1365
De Claris Mulieribus, a catalogue of famous women, from a 1474 edition - image from wikipedia
In terms of sources, I used texts from all over the ancient world and a few from the more modern world as well. For Circe herself, I drew inspiration from Ovid’s Metamorphoses and Apollonius of Rhodes’ Argonautica, Vergil’s Aeneid, the lost epic Telegony (which survives only in summary) and myths of the Anatolian goddess Cybele. For other characters, I was inspired by the Iliad, of course, the tragedies (specifically the Oresteia, Medea and Philoctetes), Vergil’s Aeneid again, Tennyson’s Ulysses and Shakespeare’s Troilus and Cressida. Alert readers may note a few small pieces of Shakespeare’s Ulysses in my Odysseus! - from Refinery29 interview
Circe – by Lorenzo Garbieri - image From Maicar Greek Mythology Link
Madeline Miller’s Circe is not a lovelorn, lonely heart desperate for connection in her isolation, but a multi-faceted character (not actually a human being, though), with inner seams of the dark and light sort, with family issues that might seem familiar in feel, if not in external content, with sins on her soul, but a desire to do good, and with a curiosity about the world. She may not have been the brightest light in the house of Helios, but she glowed with an inner strength, a capacity for mercy, an appreciation for genius, beauty and talent, and a fondness for pork. This is the epic story of a life lived to the fullest. Circe is an explorer, a lover, a destroyer, and can be a very angry goddess. This transformative figure is our doorway to a very accessible look at the Greek tales which lie at the root of so much of our culture. If you have a decent grounding in western mythology this will offer a delightful refresher. If you do not, it can offer a delightful introduction, and will no doubt spark a desire to root about for more. Madeline Miller may not have a wand with special powers, or transmogrifying potions at her command, but she demonstrates here a power to transform mere readers into fans.
Circe is a fabulous read! You will go hog wild for it. Can you pass the hot dogs? That’s All Folks
The Sorceress Circe, oil painting by Dosso Dossi, c. 1530; in the Borghese Gallery, RomeSCALA/Art Resource, New York – image from Britannica
Review first posted – 4/27/2018
Publication date – 4/10/2018
December 2018 -
Circe wins the 2018 Goodreads Choice Award for favorite Fantasy novel of the year
==========In the summer of 2019 GR reduced the allowable review size by 25%, from 20,000 to 15,000 characters. And then in 2021 GR banned the inclusion of external links in comments. (I used to put the overage there) As a result of these two new restrictions, I have been forced to truncate the review available on Goodreads. To see the entirety, including EXTRA STUFF and all the links, please head on over to my site, Coot's Reviews. No size restrictions there.
Rating: really liked it
ARC provided by the publisher via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.✨ Signed and personalized copies are available through Main Point Books! (They can ship anywhere in the US, anywhere in the UK, and also to some other international locations)
“When I was born, the name for what I was did not exist.”
This is the pièce de résistance I’ve been searching for my entire life. Not only did I fall in love with this story, I predict that this will be the best book I’ll read all year. This book is about healing and doing what it takes to come into your own. This book is about love; the love between lovers, the love of a mother, and the love you must find in yourself. This book proves why family of choice will always be greater than family of origin. This book is about magic, and how we can find it in ourselves if we look hard enough. This is a book about becoming the witch you’ve always buried deep inside you.
“They do not care if you are good. They barely care if you are wicked. The only thing that makes them listen is power.”
Okay, maybe I should start this review off with a somewhat personal story. I was very privileged to go a very good high school where I was able to study
The Iliad and
The Odyssey for a class my freshman year. And fourteen-year-old Melanie fell in love. To say I was obsessed was an understatement, and more and more my heart was filled with love for Odysseus, Athena, and a certain love affair with the witch-goddess Circe.
(Beautiful art by Kevin Nichols)
Even upon finishing that class, I still couldn’t get enough of Homer’s words. And to this day,
The Iliad and
The Odyssey are the only books that I collect many editions of. All my loved ones and family correlate these epic poems with me, and always bring me new editions from their travels, and give me gifts for special events and holidays the same way they do with
Harry Potter. One of the most prized possession I own is an edition of
The Odyssey that was given to me by someone who meant a lot to me, at a very important time in my life. And these two tomes will always be a big part of my identity, and I will always recognize that they not only shaped me as a reader, but they shaped me as a human being, too.
So, when I found out that that Greek mythology retelling queen, Madeline Miller, was writing a book centered around Circe, I knew it was going to end up being one of my favorite books of all time. And it ended up being everything I wanted and more. I hate to throw around the word masterpiece, but if I had to pick a book to give that title to, I’d pick
Circe.
“Odysseus, son of Laertes, the great traveler, prince of wiles and tricks and a thousand ways. He showed me his scars, and in return he let me pretend that I had none.”
And even though Odysseus plays a huge role in this story, this book is Circe’s and Circe’s alone. We get to see her growing up in Oceanus, with her Titan sun god father Helios, and loveless nymph mother Perse, and her three more ambitious siblings, Aeëtes, Pasiphaë, and Perses. We get to see her living her life of solitude, exiled on the island of Aiaia. We also get to see her make a few very important trips, that are very monumental in Greek mythos. But we get to see all of Circe, the broken parts, the healing parts, and the complete parts. We get to see her love, her loss, her discovery, her resolve, and her determination. We get to see her question what it means to be immortal, what it means to be a nymph in a world ruled by gods, and what it means to just live. Her journey is unlike anything I’ve ever read before, and probably unlike anything I will ever read again. I have no combination of words to express how much her life and her story means to me. But I promise, I’m not the same person I was before reading this book.
“…All my life had been murk and depths, but I was not a part of that dark water. I was a creature within it.”
This is ultimately a story about how different the tales will always be told for a man. And how the ballads will always be sung for heroes, not heroines, even if a woman was truly behind all the success the man greedily reaped.
How the light will always fall to vilify the woman and showcase her as a witch that needs to be tamed, a sorceress that needs to be subdued, or an enchantress that needs to be defeated. Women, no matter how much agency they carve out in any male dominated world, will always be a means to an end to further the achievements of man. Always. And
Circe displays that at the forefront of this story.
Circe is most well known for turning Odysseus’s men into pigs when they come to her island in
The Odyssey, but Madeline Miller does such a wonderful job weaving all this Greek mythology into a fully fleshed out, brand-new tale. She has created something so unique, yet so breathtakingly good, I think so many readers will find it impossible to put this new-spin of a story down. I was completely captivated and enthralled from the very first line to the very last line. This book just feels so authentic, I felt like I was in the ocean, on the island, and traveling right beside Circe throughout. And I never wanted to leave her side.
“It was their favorite bitter joke: those who fight against prophecy only draw it more tightly around their throats.”
Overall, I understand that this is a book that is very targeted to me and my likes. Not only is this a character driven story, with a main protagonist being a character I’ve been in love with for over a decade, but the writing was lyrical perfection. I’m such a quote reader, and I swear I would have highlighted this entire book. This book is also so beautifully feminist that it makes me weep just thinking about the things Circe had to endure. And it showcases the unconditional love of found families, yet also between a mother and her child, while simultaneously abolishing the notion that blood is worth more than anything else in any world. This book heavily emphasizes that you will never be the mistakes that your parents have committed. The entire story is a love letter to love itself and reveals all the things we are willing to do in the name of it. And most importantly, this is a book about how we are truly only ever in charge of our own stories, even though our actions may change the fate for others around us. Please, pick this masterpiece up, and I hope it changes your life, too.
Thank you, Madeline Miller, I will carry your Circe in my heart for the rest of my life.
“That is one thing gods and mortals share: when we are young, we think ourselves the first to have each feeling in the world.”
Trigger/Content Warnings: Violence, gore, murder, torture, physical abuse, child abuse, thoughts of suicide, brief scene with cutting, graphic childbirth scenes, mention of bestiality, mention of incest, animal sacrifice, death of a sibling, death of a child, death of a loved one, death of an animal, rape, adultery, and war themes.
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The quotes above were taken from an ARC and are subject to change upon publication.Buddy read with Elise (My French Spider Queen)! ❤
Rating: really liked it
It is with immense regret and massive trepidation that I must say...
I don’t really get the hype.
I really and truly don’t. Why do you guys like this book so much? I am going to go through one potentially good thing by one ultimately disappointing thing and see if any of them click.
1) Because it’s a cool retelling?This is why I was excited for this, as someone who loves retellings. Recycled plots? Old-timey magic and Revenge and mean dads and royalty and dashed love stories that make women turn witchy? Sign me the hell up! But this wasn’t really a retelling. It felt like if I were like “I’m going to rewrite American history, but from the perspective of some random chick who happened to be there for/sexually involved in a bunch of it.” It didn’t feel like one cohesive story at all. It felt like me writing a series of vignettes about a woman who had a crush on multiple founding fathers.
2) Did you all like Percy Jackson?Is this Percy Jackson for the now-kind-of-grown-ups who once read Percy Jackson? Were you all the weird 11-year-olds who thought they were Greek mythology professors because they read about Logan Lerman’s quirky sea-based summer camp misadventures? (Sorry I mentioned the movie. I know you guys hate that.) I read those books in elementary school, too, but even then I was extremely cool and quirky and unique and had tons of unpopular opinions and wasn’t a big fan. So maybe it’s that?
3) Let’s talk about Greek mythology except with one woman instead of a bunch of men?This is another reason I was excited about this, because I cannot think of a single instance in which a single witchy woman is not a million jillion times better than 100 interchangeable White Men Of History Or Fake Magic History. Well, now I can think of a single instance. If that woman spends the whole book basically on one island, even if that island is near monsters, even if that woman gets the occasional visit from a minor god or two, that is so much more boring. Because even with some significant editorializing, that woman is still witnessing maybe 7% of what’s going down. And it’s not really the fun 7%.
4) Let’s talk about Greek mythology except make it feminist and take out the girl hate?Another thing that I was excited about and then all of the excitement was brutally eked out of my soul over the course of like 400 hours of listening or however long this book was. Circe f*cks a married man or two in this book, and uh. Last time I checked...not the most feminist? Also, she’s not exactly awesome to the spouses of these dudes. Double also, I feel like Penelope (Odysseus’ wife) was a pretty blank slate and could’ve been made into a real badass. Instead she, like so much of this book, was boring as hell.
5) Because there’s a badass female protagonist?This was like the single biggest selling point to me, and therefore THE MOST WRENCHING DISAPPOINTMENT. I truly feel -- and maybe I’m the only one who feels this way -- like this was not so much a badass female protagonist as a woman who spends an (immortal, neverending) lifetime with a series of men. I did not want a series of romances. I wanted a badass, vengeful woman with witchy magical powers.
Bottom line:
What I wanted: Feminism! Mythology! Retelling! Badass cool protagonist!
What I got: Boring. Island. More island.
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currently-reading updatesme: ok time to write an essay!
this traitor book: or - and here me out on this one - you could not do that and read instead
me: hm...compelling
Rating: really liked it
4.45/5 ⭐
Full review on my Blog: The Dacian She-Wolf 🐺
”Witches are not so delicate”.Witches are raw power. And raw power through its definition is not delicate.
Being honest right now, I have never been a huge fan of Greek mythology. I used to be obsessed with Egyptian mythology and fascinated by the Celtic one. But Greek mythology seemed all Greek to me (pun intended!). Not because it was unattractive, but just because I never understood it properly. I felt like it was a never-ending tale, too elaborate for my capacity of understanding. But this book written by Madeline Miller,
Circe, helped the eyes of my mind flush open with understanding and for this I am thankful.
Circe is introduced to us as a nobody. She is neither a full Goddess, in the true meaning of the concept, nor a mudblooded mortal. She is a Goddess, the daughter of the mighty Sun, the Titan Helios, and the beautiful nymph Perse, but the mundanity of her voice and the inutility of her presence made her a lesser Goddess in other Gods' point of view, even lesser than universally considered. She is an outcast even in her own family and as hard as she wants to change this, she’s bound by unseen powers not to (Fates, duh!).
The book expands some universal and social ideas: the road of an outcast hero, searching for love in a loveless life, feminist actions abnormal for the collective mentality of the time, vengeance and forgiveness. So many more.
Starting with the road of an outcast hero, all is there to say is if you are not outcasted, then you don’t suffer and if you don’t suffer you have no drive to make something worth out of your life. In this case, an infinite, immortal life. Circe’s exile on the isle of Aiaia makes her realise the infinite power that she possesses within her and everywhere around her. It all starts with a plant. It all ends with the same plant.
Pharmaka is associated in the book with witchcraft. The power of the herbs to heal is magical. In my native language, Romanian, there is a word similar to the word pharmaka and its meaning from the book. We say
farmece, witchery spells. When someone does farmece to you, that person casts an unseen and unfelt spell over you (both metaphorically and practically speaking). Circe’s power is to tame the so-feared pharmaka and use it without being afraid.
Circe is a powerful individual, but she gains this power from her wisdom, the wisdom of time:
””You are wise”, he said. ”If it is so”, I said, ”it is only because I have been a fool enough for a hundred lifetimes””. She is a free spirit and she has her father’s roots of pride. She is her own master and she doesn't agree with the ancient etiquettes, sung by bards and stuck for eternity in people’s minds:
„Humbling women seems to me a chief pastime of poets. As if there can be no story unless we crawl and weep”. This shows the power of freedom she raised in herself.
Circe is powerful, yes. Circe is unique. Circe is herself. She gives us a valuable lesson on how to live free and how to live sufficiently. She is a figure of self-respect and self-care and she says, with unspoken words, that if you want to live happily, you have to live true to yourself.
And as to paraphrase a quote from the book as my own strong impression of Circe,
however gold she shines, do not forget her fire.(Book-inspired)
Rating: really liked it
You threw me to the crows, but it turns out I prefer them to you.
My words are not as good as the ones in this book.
Circe is a book about... finding yourself. But god,
it stands out so far from just that. Okay, to get started, I’m just going to say it:
Madeline Miller is one of the best writers of our time. She has such a way with words that it is absolutely impossible not to be engaged in her storytelling.
The thing that brings this whole novel together is
Circe’s character. She is a woman who has done awful, evil things, and yet remains unfailingly human. She is lonely, and harsh, and hiding herself in sarcasm much of the time. And there is not a moment in this novel in which I didn’t adore her. Madeline Miller does such an amazing job developing this character, weaving her thoughts into the narrative without manipulating you into feeling a certain way, keeping the narrative wide yet keeping it focused around Circe. Throughout this novel I developed such a deep level of admiration for both this author and this character,
this character I’m sure will stay with me forever. This novel is so interesting because at its core, it is an exploration of the voice of women in Greek mythology. Circe is a character we see nothing of in the narrative of Greek mythology, a character with seemingly evil intentions and little motivation – and all this despite showing up in several different stories. There’s something supremely excellent about seeing a character like this who is essentially a plot device be given a story. I know I have a tendency to repeat the term “narrative agency” but it beats repeating—
I absolutely love giving characters who have been given no agency the agency they deserve. I mean, everything about this book was just brilliant. I loved the myth interpretation: Penelope and Odysseus are both written perfectly, and seeing Jason basically get called an asshole while Medea stood on being young and morally grey and in love was so fantastic. And the exploration of gods vs. mortals is just brilliant:
You cannot know how frightened gods are of pain. There is nothing more foreign to them, and so nothing they ache more deeply to see.
I loved the relationships — just as a special note, the relationship between Circe and Telegonus made me want to cry. I basically loved everything.
I mean, I think you guys have gotten pretty easily why I liked this so much —
a morally-grey-character-driven retelling revolving around agency is basically my entire what-I-like bio. This did all the things I like and I want to reread it daily and hourly. I very well might.
[I also want you all to know this book gave rise to my favorite update meme I have ever posted so thanks for that!!]
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buddyread with my favorite Melanie 💜
Rating: really liked it
“Witches are not so delicate,” I said.
I absolutely loved this. If you enjoy Greek mythology, complex heroines, and a generous serving of adventure, bloodshed, betrayal, magic, and monsters - both literal and figurative - then hell, READ THIS BOOK.
To be honest, I wasn't a huge fan of Miller's The Song of Achilles when I read it a few years back. I'm not sure if that's because my tastes were different back then, or if it was just because the plot had more of a romantic focus than Circe. But, whatever the reason, I had no such problem with this book.
I was absolutely captivated from start to finish.Circe is part beautifully-written literary fantasy and part divine Greek soap opera. This strange combination makes for a book that is extremely quotable, rich in description and detail, and also a pageturner. It moves seamlessly between the broader scope of the world and its many gods and monsters, to the more narrow focus of the nymph-turned-witch, Circe, and her daily life before and after she is exiled to the island Aeaea.
Circe becomes a powerful witch, but the strength of her story is in all her relatable flaws and weaknesses. We follow her as a naive lesser nymph, longing to be accepted and loved. We stay with her as she believes the lies of others and, later, becomes hardened against such deceivers. Her compassion constantly battles with her rage. Understandably.
There is some grim satisfaction to be gained as this woman who has been bullied, belittled and trod on her entire life slowly claws out some vengeance for herself. The pain she endures along the way means that her successes are bittersweet.
In the end, Circe might be full of fantasy, backstabbing and murder, but it is first and foremost the story of one woman's life - through pain, love, desire, heartache and motherhood. I did not go easy to motherhood. I faced it as soldiers face their enemies, girded and braced, sword up against the coming blows. Yet all my preparations were not enough.
Other Greek myths play out in the background - that of the Minotaur, and of Icarus, as well as many others - but it is Circe's personal tale that hits the hardest. I just hope we don't have to wait another seven years for Miller to write another novel like this.
TW: Rape; graphic violence.
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Rating: really liked it
This is a beautiful book; it is flawless and intelligent. I do not have a single criticism for this fantastic piece of writing.
I loved it!Circe chronicles the life of a lesser god. She is the daughter of the mighty God Helios, the living embodiment of the sun. She is born without any particular talents or powers. She exists in the shadows of her more developed brothers and sisters. She does not shine in such spectacular company.
However, gifts come in many different forms and those with hidden talents are overlooked and devalued. More often than not quiet people are forgotten about and there worth ill-considered in all walks of existence. Circe’s family never saw what she could become. Power is important, though sometimes having none teaches one a greater lesson: nothing is worth having unless it has been earned. As such Circe wills herself into power as she discovers her affinity for witchcraft, especially the art of transformation.
Her family banish her from their company for her use of such a lowly art, and in doing so they set her free. She finds herself in her exile. On her island home she finds a paradise not a prison. She becomes one with nature and finds company with lions and wolves. Centuries pass, ages pass, and eventually some rather important characters come her way. She meets Hermes and Athena, Icarus and his farther Daedalus, and Odysseus, a man who changes her life and causes her to make a very powerful decision that leads this book into such an excellent conclusion.
“But in a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as stars once a year brush the earth. Such a constellation was he to me.” Circe offers a huge story, a story that spans generations and includes many Greek heroes and gods. Such is the nature of godhood, of immortality. When life goes on forever many notable people cross one’s path. And despite the huge number of famous characters here, none of it felt forced: it all slotted perfectly into Circe’s life. There are so many myths that intertwine with Circe, like the story of the Minotaur and the fall of Icarus, though despite the famous nature of many of them they don’t for a second overshadow her.
She met Prometheus when she was young and decided that her life would not be the same as the other gods: she was going to be her own woman. And this is a book about her finding the most ultimate form of freedom. I could not recommend it more highly. I really liked
The Song of Achilles though this surpassed it in every way. I really hope to see more from this author in the future.
Five fantastic stars ___________________________________
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Rating: really liked it
*Spoilers*
How I wish Miller's Circe was a reimagining as opposed to a retelling and I say this because there's little else about Greek mythology that isn't readily available online or at the library.
A reinterpretation, on the other hand, gives an author creative license to weave a uniquely extravagant and fantastical story ( Now I Rise did it perfectly) and perhaps one in which a lowly nymph attains great powers, transforms into a formidable sorceress who then proceeds to defy and defeat gods.
But, I digress.
If Miller's ultimate goal is to introduce Greek mythology to a new generation of readers, then, I think she succeeded. However, that's ALL she achieved.
This story about an inferior but immortal nymph called, Circe, who is a progeny of not one but TWO Titans -Helios and Oceanus- is decidedly underwhelming, trite, and overwrought with both too many characters yet very little story progression. Presumedly, the author had a checklist of events (and characters) that simply had to make an appearance in the story, even if the tangent was superfluous and unrelated:
Prometheus, and the banishment. Check
Scylla, the six-headed monster. Check
Pasiphae, Daedalus, the Bull of Poseidon, and the horror that was Minotaur. Check
Let's not forget, Odyssey.
And Hermes
And Athena
And many others who (please listen closely) WERE NOT REQUIRED TO MOVE THIS STORY FORWARD. Think I'm making this up?
Well, let's see what the story's about shall we?
1. Circe is so dull and uninteresting that
2. Pretty much everyone ignores her; that is, until...
3. She uses her magic to turn Scylla into the six-headed monster.
4. Consequently, she's exiled to an island
5. Where she at times turned unsavoury sailors into pigs
6. Eventually leaving the island only after having lived there for centuries.
7. The end.
All in all, I think if you're new to mythology then this is for you; but even then I'd recommend reading Greek Mythology: A Captivating Guide to the Ancient Gods, Goddesses, Heroes, and Monsters instead.
Rating: really liked it
"Next time you're going to defy the gods, do it for a better reason."
Circe has always known that she does not belong. Though she is a goddess born to the almighty sun god Helios, she has never desired power nor indulged in vanity and cruelty the way her family does. They, in turn, have never ceased to remind her that she is the lesser daughter of greater sires. So when she displays an affinity for witchcraft and is exiled to a remote island, she jumps at the chance. Here finally is the opportunity to live life on her own terms.
Told in her trademark lyrical prose, Madeline Miller weaves a tale that is at once familiar and brand new. Circe has always been a minor goddess in Greek mythology, but in this book, she shines bright as the star of her own tale. It was fascinating to see so many familiar events—Scylla, Jason and Medea, and the infamous Odysseus—made fresh again through her eyes.
You would think a story like this might feel remote and otherworldly and be hard to relate to. After all, I'm not a goddess (well, only in my head). But what's amazing about this story is how utterly relatable it really is. Miller manages to portray Circe in sharp relief, and she is a compelling figure. Her search for purpose and belonging, her loneliness, her mistakes and sacrifices, and ultimately her redemption, all coalesce to drive home her humanity and fragility. It makes for a mesmerizing tale, one I could not look away from.
In comparison to
The Song of Achilles, I found both to be wonderful in their own right. Which you will enjoy more will depend on personal preference. For me,
The Song of Achilles has a better arc just based on source material, with the story relentlessly building up to the Trojan War.
Circe does not have the luxury of a huge war at its end, so the story ebbs and flows depending on the current narrative. That isn't to knock
Circe, but rather speaks to Miller's masterful skill that she was able to make this story just as riveting as its predecessor.
In just two books, Madeline Miller has become a favorite of mine. It must not be easy to take a classic that has been told again and again, and to infuse something thrilling and new into it. Yet she does just that, shaping these myths into tales appealing for the modern audience, while still retaining all of their old-world charms. I cannot wait to see what she comes up with next.
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See also, my thoughts on:The Song of Achilles
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Rating: really liked it
OH.MY. GOODNESS. WHY? WHY? And WHYYYYY did I wait too long to read this! BIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP(Right now I’m calling myself so nasty names! If I write them down, I’m sure my goodreads page will be closed So after the bippp tone I’m coming back!)
I came back. Still pissed off myself. So what do we have? I don’t want to fill this page to describe how I devoured each page of it and how I literally fell in love with this book because words are not enough for me! Anything I write here will not be enough to show my adoration. They will be just mediocre fan woman expressions which are not meaningful enough to express my feelings. So I’m not gonna waste your time with my unnecessarily wordy review and irritate your eyes. No words can define this book. PERIOD!
This is fantastic retelling of Greek mythology and rare combination of magic, backstabbing characters, bloodshed, intrigue, power games. I’m so happy for my time management to create extra time to read this precious gem! (Working, reading, drinking, watching and irritating your husband takes too much time so I reduce my sleep time and now I got so many offers from Walking Dead casting calls to be their long term zombie extra!)
My top ten reads exceeded number ten, I have to formulate another plan to categorize my all time favorite books but I’m so sure this book already earned its place at the top of my list. I should reread it after a few months later.
I highly recommend you to listen to its audiobook. Perdita Weeks achieved a dreamy job . She perfectly captured the soul of the book and expressed this soul with her lyrical, effective voice that penetrates into our hearts.
Rating: really liked it
Do you ever just get mad because you’re spending your life paying rent and dreading the next impending catastrophe when you could have been a goddess living in an enchanted island unreachable by men and only seen every ten years? You live with ancient queens of myth and you're so much a part of each other it is like a second soul within your skin. You sing hymns, burn incenses, and make fragrant oils. You call birds to sing at your windows, fall asleep in patches of magical herbs, and sit by the hearth with a lioness, cheeks glowing with the flames' light. You are so far removed from the world's sorrows, so at peace and healthy. You live into 300 years, and in the space where legends and fairytales are gathering up words, your name is among them.
Yeah, so, anyways. Same.
Rating: really liked it
Spellbinding.
Rating: really liked it
for $27 this book better clear my skin, water my crops, and eliminate all the stress i have ever had
buddy read with yusra!
Rating: really liked it
Absolutely beautiful!
Rating: really liked it
Bruh my girl Circe really snapped. I can't believe she ended Helios in 3 sentences. Your fave could never.
