The most relatable Greek mythic character: Circe
Shortlisted for the Women’s Prize for Fiction 2019, Madeline Miller’s “Circe” is a read that paints perfectly the waves of emotions, experiences, and events that sculpted Circe.
For those of you who, at this point, are wondering Circe who? and is she relevant? Circe was an enchantress in Greek Mythology. Her family tree linked with that of titans; daughter of Helios — the Sun God — Circe was among the least favourite child borne from Perse — an oceanid nymph. Her story; inked beautifully by Madeline Miller who, in my opinion, is one of the best writers for mythical/folklore fiction (If that is a sub-category).
Her words weave through the fabric of existing renowned works of mythology and concoct a product that is both relatively accurate and creative.
The story which follows in Circe is creatively morphed and stands slightly separate from the Odyssey, however, the novel stand alone stands strong as a piece of wonderfully curated literature. Circe’s brief mention in the Odyssey becomes the prime character scenario, and plot for Millers’ “Circe”; the plot of which dives into her intimate experiences revealing her bewildered attachment with mortality. The novel has uncountable turning chapters marked out as key developmental points for Circe’s evolution;
The Outcast
Since the start of the story you get an understanding of Circe’s foundation. Cast aside by both her parents for her meek gait, mortal voice and overall scrawniness, Circe — cultivated within the shadows that surrounded her — self nurtured, underwent trials of error to become who she was. Her power inculcated from her experience. It wasn’t bestowed upon her as it was to Pasiphae; who gained power not solely because of her witchcraft, but primarily due to her marriage with minor, or Aeetes; who was favoured by his father Helios and graced with his own land Colchis, or Perses; Helios’s second son borne by Perse, who usurped his Brothers throne and was later slain by Madea (his niece).
Meeting Prometheus
Prometheus’s punishment evoked in Circe sympathy and curiosity; mortals were considered weak and sidelined as either savage filth or human resource for means of servitude, labour, or tactical force. Prometheus’s favour towards them — and his punishment for doing so — resonated with Circe throughout the story line. This particular incident peeks through in most of her encounters as a shared secret between her and her then confidant or listener.
Her Exile:
Exiled for performing witchcraft on her own kind; first, to convert a mortal into God — Glaucos; second, to mutate Scylla into what was later known as one of the most notorious sea-monsters in greek mythology.
Her exile mattered little to the family — and as it appeared — very little to her as well. In fact, it seemed that she was looking forward to her exile more than ever. It’s relatable because more often than not, it is when we are faced with true isolation or loneliness that we discover infinite room to explore and play with our passions, curiosities and creativity.
We all have a little bit of Circe in us, really.
If we look at it broadly, what Circe went through are very common problems, and that’s really the beauty of Madeline’s writing; I related to Circe just as much as anyone else who would read the book. She was a woman, treated as an outcast for her features and flaws (not really flaws I would say), she dealt with sexism and hate, tackling them with the best of her abilities, she encountered very humane feelings about the course of the world around her, and she really transitioned with trial and errors till the book’s end.
