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A review by enitsujn
Galatea by Madeline Miller
4.0
I don't think my husband expected me to be able to talk.
galtea is another of madeline miller's feminist retellings. this short story is an interesting take on the myth of galatea and pygmalion in which galatea is not a mute statue. instead, she fights to protect her daughter from her abusive husband.
He wondered at the marks on me, the red around my neck, and the purple on my arms and chest where he had gripped me. He rubbed at them, as though they were stains, not bruises. "The color is perfect," he said, "look." And he held up a mirror so I could see. "You make the rarest canvas, love."
contrary to the other works of madeline miller i have read, the narration felt more clinical and less whimsical and poetic. this kind of narration makes sense for a story like this, and some descriptions were still really nice, but it lacked something.
[...] the room swelled around me like a bruise.
afterthought: i would have loved it if galatea was actually and unreliable narrator. i spent the whole beginning of the story wondering if she was actually crazy or if she actually used to be a statue. however, as you keep reading, it seems clear that galatea is not some crazy woman and that everything she is telling us is true. in my opinion, i think it would have been way cooler to keep the mystery until the very end in order to make us wonder who was actually the bad guy here. i’m not saying i would have rooted for pygmalion if she turned out to be crazy because he was clearly being abusive to his wife, but it would have put some things into perspective.
on the other hand, making it clear that galatea is not some madwoman gives more weight to her story and we root for her even more as we hope she finds a way to emancipate herself from the man who is using her.
galtea is another of madeline miller's feminist retellings. this short story is an interesting take on the myth of galatea and pygmalion in which galatea is not a mute statue. instead, she fights to protect her daughter from her abusive husband.
He wondered at the marks on me, the red around my neck, and the purple on my arms and chest where he had gripped me. He rubbed at them, as though they were stains, not bruises. "The color is perfect," he said, "look." And he held up a mirror so I could see. "You make the rarest canvas, love."
contrary to the other works of madeline miller i have read, the narration felt more clinical and less whimsical and poetic. this kind of narration makes sense for a story like this, and some descriptions were still really nice, but it lacked something.
[...] the room swelled around me like a bruise.
afterthought: i would have loved it if galatea was actually and unreliable narrator. i spent the whole beginning of the story wondering if she was actually crazy or if she actually used to be a statue. however, as you keep reading, it seems clear that galatea is not some crazy woman and that everything she is telling us is true. in my opinion, i think it would have been way cooler to keep the mystery until the very end in order to make us wonder who was actually the bad guy here. i’m not saying i would have rooted for pygmalion if she turned out to be crazy because he was clearly being abusive to his wife, but it would have put some things into perspective.
on the other hand, making it clear that galatea is not some madwoman gives more weight to her story and we root for her even more as we hope she finds a way to emancipate herself from the man who is using her.