Tag: Greek mythology

This Immortal Heart by Jennifer Saint

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This is the latest of Jennifer Saint’s novels telling the stories of female figures from Greek mythology. Previously she’s written about Ariadne, Elektra, Atalanta and Hera; now it’s the turn of Aphrodite, the goddess of love.

Beginning with the moment she’s born, the daughter of Uranus stepping fully formed from the sea, the novel takes us through many of the key events and myths associated with Aphrodite. Like the previous book, Hera, it has an episodic feel, but it’s all tied together by the overarching story of Aphrodite’s romance with Ares, the god of war. With love and war being opposites, Aphrodite and Ares seem an unlikely pairing, but maybe that’s why they’re attracted to each other – they represent the two sides of human nature, with passion the driving force behind both. Their relationship causes quite a stir on Mount Olympus, particularly when Aphrodite is forced into marriage with Ares’ brother Hephaestus, the god of fire and blacksmiths.

The triangle of Aphrodite, Ares and Hephaestus is the main focus of the novel, but we also see how Aphrodite becomes involved with various other characters from Greek myth: she brings to life Galatea, the statue of a woman created by Pygmalion; tries unsuccessfully to protect Pandora from the schemes of Zeus; and falls in love with the beautiful Adonis. I loved these glimpses we get into the world of the mortals and wished we could have explored some of these myths in more depth.

The whole book is narrated by Aphrodite herself and although I did like her, I felt that she was a bit too passive at times. It seemed that she spent a lot of time reacting to the actions of others rather than making things happen and I didn’t really get a sense of her being a strong, powerful goddess like the others on Mount Olympus. As for Ares, he’s not a popular god, being proud, angry and devoted to war and destruction, but a more tender side does begin to emerge later in the book. However, there’s no tender side to his companion Eris, the goddess of strife and discord, whom I found a fascinating but chilling character with her obvious delight in death, misery and suffering.

The parts of the book I found most interesting were those involving Hephaestus, a much more sympathetic character than Ares, being concerned with creating rather than destroying, and treated badly by Zeus. His marriage with Aphrodite comes about when he takes his revenge by binding Hera to a magical golden chair, leading Zeus to promise that the first god to free her will be given Aphrodite as a wife. There’s naturally some overlap here with Hera’s story in the previous novel but, interestingly, things don’t play out in exactly the same way. As Jennifer Saint explains in her author’s note, there’s more than one version of each myth so when writing her novels she chooses the one that feels most appropriate for the story she’s trying to tell – as well as keeping things fresh for the reader.

Although this isn’t my favourite Jennifer Saint novel, it was nice to have the opportunity to learn a bit more about Aphrodite as I’d never read a book specifically about her before. I’ll be interested to see which woman from Greek mythology she writes about next.

Thanks to Viking for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Book 11/20 of 20 Books of Summer

No Friend to This House by Natalie Haynes

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I’ve read and enjoyed two of Natalie Haynes’ previous novels, A Thousand Ships and Stone Blind – both Greek mythology retellings, inspired by the Trojan War and the story of Medusa, respectively – so I was looking forward to this one, No Friend to This House. It retells the myth of Medea and is based on Euripides’ classic play.

Medea, however, doesn’t appear until halfway through the book. The first half is devoted to describing the journey of the Argo, the ship which carries Jason and his men, the Argonauts, to Medea’s home in Colchis in search of the Golden Fleece. Rather than telling this part of the story through the eyes of the Argonauts, though, it’s told from the perspectives of the various women – both mortals and goddesses – whose lives are touched in some way by the Argo‘s journey. This narrative structure is similar to the other two Haynes novels I’ve read and in all three it’s very effective as the actions of those on the peripherals can be just as important as those at the centre of the story.

Some of the characters we hear from are names everyone will know, such as the goddesses Hera, Athena and Aphrodite, but others are less famous – for example, Erato the Muse, the priestess Iphias and even the dove, Peleia! One of these lesser known characters, Kleite, is particularly grateful to be given a voice at last…

That’s right, I’m just glossed over every time – Kleite with the beautiful hair – as if that tells you who I am or why I did what I did. So if you didn’t know me until I got your attention just now, well isn’t that more reason to include me, not less? What’s the point in telling the old stories all over again in the same way?

Once Medea makes her appearance, the book begins to feel different. We spend longer with Medea than with any of the other characters, seeing multiple chapters from her perspective, and I missed the wide range of voices we heard in the earlier sections of the book. Still, I found this retelling of the Jason and Medea story much more enjoyable than the last one I read (Savage Beasts by Rani Selvarajah). There were also some other little touches that I loved. For example, every chapter is headed with a word or string of words in italics which, taken on their own, make no sense at all, but when put together tell a story-within-a-story. There’s also a fascinating ‘interlude’ in the middle of the book which describes the origins of the Golden Fleece itself.

Overall, I think I enjoyed this book more than A Thousand Ships but not quite as much as Stone Blind, although all three are excellent. I still need to read her earlier novels and her non-fiction, but I would also like to hear any recommendations of other Jason and Medea retellings! Have you read any good ones?

The Hymn to Dionysus by Natasha Pulley

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I know what you’re thinking: not another Greek mythology book! There have been so many in recent years, it would be easy to dismiss this one as just more of the same. However, I found it completely different from any of the others I’ve read, and despite the marketing it’s nothing like the Greek retellings written by Madeline Miller or Jennifer Saint.

The Hymn to Dionysus is narrated by Phaidros, whom we first meet as a child being trained as a knight in a Greek legion (knight is the term Pulley uses, but it clearly just refers to a mounted soldier rather than our image of a medieval knight). Phaidros doesn’t know who his parents are, but that’s not considered important in the Theban army, where your duty and loyalty is to your commander – in this case, Helios, who provides all the love, guidance and leadership Phaidros needs. He never questions his commander’s orders until the day when, during a trip to Thebes, Phaidros rescues a blue-eyed baby from a fire at the palace and Helios insists on the baby being abandoned at a temple, never to be mentioned again.

Many years later, Phaidros is a commander himself, training new recruits in Thebes. When Pentheus, the crown prince, disappears, desperate to escape an arranged marriage, Phaidros is drawn into the search, something which leads him to an encounter with a blue-eyed witch, Dionysus. The arrival of Dionysus coincides with an outbreak of madness amongst the knights of Thebes and stories of a mysterious new god. Is there a connection between Dionysus and the baby boy rescued by Phaidros all those years ago?

I read Natasha Pulley’s The Bedlam Stacks, set in 19th century England and Peru, when it was published in 2017 and although it was getting glowing reviews from everyone else at the time, I didn’t like it very much, mainly because I found the language irritatingly modern and anachronistic and the magical realism elements were stronger than I expected. I haven’t tried any of her other novels since then, but I loved one of her short stories which appeared in The Winter Spirits, a ghost story anthology, so I thought it would be worth giving her another chance. I’m glad I did, because I found this book a lot more enjoyable. It’s still written in very modern language, but that doesn’t seem to bother me quite as much when a book is set in the ancient world, although I would find it difficult to explain why.

Although I’ve read other Greek mythology novels in which Dionysus and some of the other characters appear, I don’t really have a very extensive knowledge of the myths surrounding them (I haven’t read Euripides’ play, The Bacchae, in which some of this is covered) and I think this was probably actually a good thing, as it meant I could just enjoy the story without having too many preconceived expectations. As I’ve said, it’s not a typical retelling anyway; as far as I can tell, it draws on various aspects of different myths and blends them together to form an original story. There are elements of magic – ivy that suddenly begins to grow when Dionysus is around; masks that bestow new characteristics on the wearers – but the book never quite becomes full-blown fantasy. I loved Pulley’s descriptions of the giant mechanical statues she calls ‘marvels’ and although I doubt they would have existed in the way she describes, there are examples of automata dating back to Ancient Greece so it could have been possible.

The main focus of the book, though, is on Phaidros and his relationships – particularly the one with Dionysus, which develops slowly as Phaidros wonders whether Dionysus is the baby he rescued all those years ago or whether he isn’t, whether he’s the ‘mad god’ everyone is talking about or whether he is just the witch he claims to be. I liked Phaidros and enjoyed the way he narrated his story, so even though this is a long book I felt that the pages went by quite quickly. I would probably consider reading some of Natasha Pulley’s other books, if anyone has any recommendations.

Thanks to Gollancz for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Hera by Jennifer Saint

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In her previous novels, Jennifer Saint has retold the stories of several women from Greek mythology including Ariadne, Elektra and Atalanta. Her new book, Hera, as the title suggests, is a retelling of the life of Hera, Greek goddess of marriage.

The novel opens with Hera helping her brother Zeus to overthrow their father, the Titan Cronus, in a great war. With Cronus and the other Titans defeated and banished, Zeus divides control of the world between himself and his two brothers, Poseidon and Hades. Hera wants nothing more than to rule beside Zeus, so while her sisters Demeter and Hestia find new roles for themselves as goddesses of the harvest and the hearth respectively, Hera ends up marrying her brother. She isn’t able to gain the power she desires, however, and begins to grow increasingly resentful of Zeus.

Zeus makes Hera the goddess of marriage, presiding over weddings and childbirth, but their own marriage is far from perfect. Zeus is an unfaithful husband, cheating on Hera with nymphs, mortals and other goddesses, producing a multitude of children who either join the gods on Mount Olympus (such as Artemis and Apollo) or become heroes in the mortal world (Heracles and Perseus). Hera is determined to take revenge, but is this really her best route to happiness?

Hera is usually depicted in Greek myths as vengeful, jealous and vindictive and although Jennifer Saint has clearly set out to paint a more nuanced picture of her here, she doesn’t really do much to change that overall impression. I could certainly have sympathy for her as she’s repeatedly betrayed and treated badly by Zeus and struggles to achieve what she sees as her rightful position as his equal, but Saint’s Hera is still not an easy character to like. Her actions often seem petty and spiteful, taking out her frustrations not just on Zeus but on his children and their mothers, despite the fact that most of those women were actually raped or tricked by Zeus.

Hera is involved in many of the key moments and incidents from Greek myths and I felt that Saint tried to include absolutely everything in this book. Some episodes are fascinating and gripping, but I think others could probably have been left out. My favourite parts of the book were Hera’s visits to the caves inhabited by Ekhidna (usually spelled Echidna), the half woman-half snake who is mother to many of the most famous Greek monsters including Cerberus, the Hydra and the Chimera. In this version, Hera is the mother of Typhon, a monstrous snake-like giant, whom she gives birth to secretly and gives to Ekhidna to raise without Zeus’s knowledge.

This isn’t my favourite Jennifer Saint book – that would probably be Ariadne – but I did find it quite enjoyable and it was interesting to see Saint writing from the perspective of a goddess rather than a mortal woman for a change. Ultimately, though, I was left with a feeling of sadness because Hera seemed so bitter and unhappy; I wished she could have carved out her own path in life like Demeter and Hestia instead of allowing Zeus to do it for her. I’ll be interested to see who Saint writes about next; I would love a whole novel about Ekhidna and her monsters!

Thanks to Headline, Wildfire for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Once a Monster by Robert Dinsdale

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Novels inspired by Greek mythology seem to have become very popular in recent years, but Robert Dinsdale’s new book, Once a Monster, is something slightly different. More reimagining than retelling, it’s set in Victorian London and owes as much to Charles Dickens’ Oliver Twist as it does to Greek myth.

Ten-year-old Nell Hart is a mudlark, one of a small group of children, orphaned or otherwise neglected and vulnerable, who spend their days searching through the mud of the River Thames for ‘treasures’ – pieces of coal or iron – to give to their master, Benjamin Murdstone. It’s a difficult life for a child, but Nell has a pair of satin ballet slippers hidden inside her straw mattress, a gift left to her by her seamstress mother, and she is sustained by dreams of one day becoming a ballerina.

One morning, Nell is the first down to the river to begin another day of mudlarking and so she is the first to discover a body washed up on the shore. At first she’s unmoved by the sight – it’s not the first dead body she’s seen – but on closer inspection she discovers that this is the body of no ordinary man. Unusually tall, with enormous hands and feet, there are strange growths on each side of the head, almost like the beginnings of horns. The other mudlarks have arrived and are urging Nell to steal the man’s boots, when she makes another shocking discovery – he is still alive.

His name is Minos and as he returns to consciousness, memories slowly begin to surface of a time long ago and another life as a Minotaur in a labyrinth. But is Minos really the Minotaur of Greek myth or is he just a man after all? What will Murdstone do when he sees what Nell has found for him – and will Nell ever break free of her mudlark existence and learn to dance?

This is the first book I’ve read by Robert Dinsdale so I didn’t know what to expect, but I found it beautifully written and atmospheric. As I’ve mentioned, there’s a strong Dickens influence, from the descriptions of the poorer parts of Victorian London to the portrayal of Mr Murdstone, who is obviously inspired by Fagin, the leader of the gang of pickpockets in Oliver Twist. As the villain of the novel, he’s a very human monster and it quickly becomes clear that a central theme of the story is that every one of us can have a monster inside us as well as a hero. Dinsdale uses the myth of the Minotaur to explore and develop this theory:

“The mythographers were a cowardly lot. Just storytellers, trying to make sense of a world too complex to be distilled in mere words…But when it came to chronicling these stories for the ages, the Minotaur presented them with the thorniest of problems. To look him in the eye and see him for anything other than a base beast must have been like peering into a looking glass. They would have had to acknowledge the monstrosity in all of us.”

I found the relationship between Nell and Minos slightly disturbing; it wasn’t really a romantic relationship but it felt like more than just a platonic friendship or a father/daughter relationship and I kept forgetting that while Minos was an adult (possibly many hundreds of years old), Nell was only a ten-year-old child. The interactions and conversations between the two of them felt more what I would have expected if Nell had been a teenager or young woman rather than a little girl. Apart from that, I did think both characters were interesting; I enjoyed following Nell as she took her first steps towards becoming a ballerina and although I found Minos harder to connect with, I was intrigued by his story and by his memories of his time as the Minotaur.

My main problem with this book was the length; there were too many long and repetitive sections where the pace slowed and nothing really happened to advance the plot. I read the ebook but the print version has over 500 pages and I think that could easily have been cut down to 400 without losing anything important. Still, I did find this an interesting novel overall and would consider trying one of Robert Dinsdale’s earlier books.

Thanks to Pan Macmillan for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

This is book 43/50 for the 2023 Historical Fiction Reading Challenge.

Savage Beasts by Rani Selvarajah

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The Greek myth of Medea is transposed to 18th century India in Rani Selvarajah’s debut novel, Savage Beasts. Although I haven’t read very much about Medea – except where she has appeared as a secondary character in other novels I’ve read, such as Madeline Miller’s Circe – it was actually the Indian setting that attracted me to this book rather than the Greek myth aspect and I expect it will have equal appeal to readers of historical fiction and those who enjoy mythology retellings.

The novel opens in 1757 in Calcutta (now known as Kolkata). The East India Company, under the leadership of Sir Peter Chilcott, are advancing on Bengal and war seems inevitable, but James Chilcott, Sir Peter’s nephew, has arrived in Calcutta ready to make a bargain. He is prepared to betray the company and reveal their plans, he says, but he wants something from the Nawab of Bengal in return. Although the Nawab isn’t convinced, his daughter, Meena, is captivated by the handsome young Englishman and agrees to help him. When things go wrong, James and Meena are forced to flee Bengal, leaving a scene of death and devastation in their wake.

So far, I could see the parallels with mythology – Meena in the role of Medea, daughter of King Aeëtes of Colchis, and James as Jason, who comes to Colchis on the Argo in search of the Golden Fleece. When Meena and James leave Bengal, they encounter Meena’s aunt, Kiran, whom I quickly identified with Circe. The later parts of the myth are less familiar to me, but as far as I could tell the novel continued to follow the basic outline, with one or two nice twists towards the end.

What let this novel down for me was the writing. I hate to be too critical of an author’s first novel, but I did find some of the word choices odd or inappropriate. Characters ‘smirk’ all the time, on almost every page – that’s when they’re not ‘sneering’ or ‘scoffing’. I lost count of how many times these words were repeated. I also struggled to believe in Meena as a convincing woman of her time. It seemed unlikely that the daughter of a Nawab (a Mughal ruler of similar status to a prince) would have the freedom to hang around the docks of Bengal on her own, as Meena does in the opening chapter, and her subsequent actions feel more and more anachronistic.

I did like the basic concept of moving the Medea story to 18th century India and the idea of James/Jason as part of a colonial power coming to take what they can from Bengal/Colchis is an intriguing one. For this to work, though, there really needed to be a stronger sense of time and place, but sadly, I couldn’t think of the characters as anything other than modern people in historical costume. Despite my negativity, I stuck with the book to the end and did occasionally become drawn into the story; it’s been receiving a mixture of reviews, including plenty of four and five star ones, so evidently other readers have enjoyed it more than I did. Give it a try if it appeals – and please let me know if there are any other retellings of the Medea myth you can recommend!

Thanks to HarperCollins UK, One More Chapter for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

This is book 21/50 read for the 2023 Historical Fiction Reading Challenge.

Atalanta by Jennifer Saint

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Having enjoyed Jennifer Saint’s first two novels, Ariadne and Elektra, I was looking forward to reading her third one, Atalanta. Like the others, it explores the life of a woman from Greek mythology, in this case Atalanta, famous as a hunter, a runner and the only female Argonaut.

Daughter of the King of Arcadia, the baby Atalanta is left to die on a mountain because her father had hoped for a son. Rescued by bears and raised along with their cubs, Atalanta grows up under the watchful eye of Artemis, goddess of the hunt, who later takes her to live amongst the nymphs in the forest. As she reaches adulthood, it is clear that Atalanta possesses special skills in hunting, shooting and running. Elsewhere, Jason is preparing to set out aboard the Argo on his mission to obtain the Golden Fleece from the King of Colchis. With the blessing of Artemis, Atalanta joins the quest, but it won’t be easy to persuade Jason and his men to accept her as a fellow Argonaut.

I won’t go into all the details of the myth here, but Saint incorporates most of the elements that are often associated with Atalanta: the Calydonian boar hunt, her relationship with the Argonaut Meleager, the footrace and the golden apples. I say ‘often’ because, as with many Greek myths, there are different versions of Atalanta’s story. In some, she isn’t mentioned as part of the Argonaut legend at all; in others, she is the daughter of the King of Boeotia rather than Arcadia. I have read about Atalanta before, in Emily Hauser’s For the Winner, and I think overall I preferred that book which was more of a ‘reimagining’ with lots of extra little touches rather than this one which I would describe as a straightforward ‘retelling’. Still, it’s interesting to see how different authors choose to approach the same myth, what they include and leave out and how they interpret the actions and motivations of the characters.

I liked this book more than Elektra, but not as much as Ariadne. I felt that it was a bit slow to get started – the section set in the woods with the nymphs seemed to last forever – but once Atalanta joined the Argonauts on their quest it all became much more compelling. Although romance isn’t a big part of Atalanta’s story, I also enjoyed following her relationships with first Meleager and then Hippomenes and I appreciated the way Saint found a way to retell the myth from a feminist perspective without portraying all of the men in a negative light. And it’s always good to read a book about Greek mythology that doesn’t involve the Trojan War – not that it’s not interesting, but there have been so many Troy novels in the last few years I don’t think there’s really any need for any more.

This is not my favourite Jennifer Saint book, then, but it’s still an interesting read, particularly if you know nothing about Atalanta and her story. Now I’m looking forward to seeing which Greek heroine Saint will write about next.

Thanks to Headline for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.