Circe

"Sorceress Circe" Angelo Caroselli c.1630

On Circe, Judith Yarnall comments of this figure ..."What we know for certain – what Western literature attests to – is her remarkable staying power…These different versions of Circe's myth can be seen as mirrors, sometimes clouded and sometimes clear, of the fantasies and assumptions of the cultures that produced them." After appearing as just one of the characters that Odysseus encounters on his wandering, "Circe herself, in the twists and turns of her story through the centuries, has gone through far more metamorphoses than those she inflicted on Odysseus's companions." (Judith Yarnall, Transformations of Circe, University of Illinois, 1994, pp1-2)

About a month ago, a friend loaned me the recent bestseller, Circe by Madelyn Miller.  I was a bit hesitant to dive into it for a couple of reasons - 1) My life has been so busy lately, if I sit too quietly, for example to read or mediate, I often fall asleep; and 2) I think I have read all the mythology/sorceress/wise women tomes necessary for one lifetime. But my Midwest nice and work to completion ethic would not allow me to pass the book back, unread.  I also knew my friend would want to discuss all the various parts in the book.

In her book, Ms. Miller's imaginings go beyond the short period of time Circe is present in Homer's Odyssey.  We learn what Miller thinks Circe's childhood may have been like, and her what her solitary immortal adult life on her island of Aiaia may have included.

As often happens when reading a well written book, as I read further into the chapters, I began to see similarities between me and the protagonist.  Here was this child who loved and cherished her father and sought out every opportunity to be near him and impress him.  I can relate.  It is also commonly held, the topic of many conversations within and without the family, that this child was not as beautiful as, not as smart and strong as, her siblings.  Her looks, her voice, her actions annoyed everyone.

Eventually her father banishes her to, hopefully, save his own reputation and status.  I was relating hard by this part of the story.

She ends up on an island all by herself where she learns to make the best of her life, learning all she can about where she lives, and invites creatures into her home as company to substitute for the human companionship, maybe even love, she yearns for.  When her family and acquaintances learns that she tames wild creatures, makes potions and teas out of plants and roots, and takes odd people as lovers, they are not surprised or impressed.

Yet, those who know of her unconventional life style do not hesitate to ask for her assistance when they are in a bind.  They demand that she drop what she is tending to and give them potions or energy or whatever they desire.  She helps them, but often to her detriment.  In the end (not really a spoiler her, but skip the rest of this paragraph if you're worried) sadly, her story becomes just another happily every after story.

I feel like I could be Circe of the first and middle chapters of this book, only more crone-ish and cranky.  My Aiaia could be my whole adult life, a place I know well and where I have conjured safety and magic in equal proportions.  The wild beasts I've tamed could be those who met me without judgment and grew to respect my magic and nurturing for their own safety, growth, and maturing.  To this island of mine and my creatures, visitors come to and leave my shores.  

I could go on metaphorically about what all the visitors brought and took and left with me.  But suffice to say, parenthood and experience are the treasured gifts that came. I sat at my loom, whatever creative metaphor that part of the story is, and wove memories, lessons, and emotions from those experiences into the fabric of my life.  It seemed profound and affirming to compare my life to Circe's ... until the last chapters.

To the last chapters I say, "Really Madelyn Miller?"  You used all that creativity and imagination to create a life full of strong, brave, insightful, tender, and self-preserving episodes in Circe's life.  But in the end, you could not resist, like so many before you who have told Circe's story, having her swept away by the love of a good man who made her life complete.

I am not anti-love or relationships.  But I am a realist, I know the statistics for women my (and Circe's) age and re-partnering.  I would like to see a protagonist, especially one like Circe, who was so strong on her own through the majority of her life find peace and satisfaction in their solitary life.

In the spirit of my blog's name, Midlife Midwest, I give Madelyn Miller's Circe, 🌽🌽🌽🌽🌽 out of ten, because reading is better than not reading.