A review by conspystery
The Penelopiad, by Margaret Atwood
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
This was a really interesting interpretation of and perspective on The Odyssey. I loved this Penelope— her self-awareness, her internal conflict, her bitterness towards Helen and her begrudging adoration of her son, her imperfect and almost fragile love (if that) for her husband, her grief for all the repetitive loss (of all sorts of things!) in her life, and how real she felt, above all.
At first I hated how Penelope treated Helen. It felt bitter and cruel and unnecessary, like she was blaming another woman for the misogyny they both had to deal with rather than confronting the actual issues at play. But in reality, I think people are flawed, and as both Penelope and Helen are, their almost rival-esque relationship in this story makes total sense. I don’t really know how to put it other than it felt REAL, imperfect and bitter as real people can be especially when faced with an unfair situation and difficult circumstances, and that’s the reason Penelope’s voice is so striking in this book. That the story comes from her, not only as she knows it but also as she wishes to tell it, lends it a unique kind of reclamation-y feel that I just adored throughout the whole thing.
And, of course, the maids, reflecting all the unfairness of the narrative, bringing light to a side of The Odyssey that is so often ignored or overlooked… so good. Penelope, through her narration and her emphasis on the maids, paints an at times conflicting picture of Odysseus: this considerate, clever man, but also tinged with ego such that it’s never clear to Penelope whether his actions towards her and others are for their benefit or his own. He is so multifaceted in this story, thoroughly imperfect, and their relationship is built on a kind of mutual understanding of both of their self-deceptive tendencies— once again, Penelope is self-aware here, achingly so, and it gives the book layers that are so interesting to pick through. So the death of the maids functions as an ultimate question to Odysseus’s character while at once bringing about a note of conclusion to Penelope’s perception of him. They serve to remind him not only of his guilt for murder, but his guilt for treating Penelope as he did, for giving in to his ego rather than seeing her as a person.
I don’t know how much I agree with this book’s ideas about Penelope and Odysseus, but I can definitely say that the interpretation presented here is full of pieces to consider, and it emphasizes them with a believable, raw, and real voice all the way through. This Penelope, and this version of her story, was unique and tragic and wonderful in all the ways I’d hope for in a book like this. I loved it.
At first I hated how Penelope treated Helen. It felt bitter and cruel and unnecessary, like she was blaming another woman for the misogyny they both had to deal with rather than confronting the actual issues at play. But in reality, I think people are flawed, and as both Penelope and Helen are, their almost rival-esque relationship in this story makes total sense. I don’t really know how to put it other than it felt REAL, imperfect and bitter as real people can be especially when faced with an unfair situation and difficult circumstances, and that’s the reason Penelope’s voice is so striking in this book. That the story comes from her, not only as she knows it but also as she wishes to tell it, lends it a unique kind of reclamation-y feel that I just adored throughout the whole thing.
And, of course, the maids, reflecting all the unfairness of the narrative, bringing light to a side of The Odyssey that is so often ignored or overlooked… so good. Penelope, through her narration and her emphasis on the maids, paints an at times conflicting picture of Odysseus: this considerate, clever man, but also tinged with ego such that it’s never clear to Penelope whether his actions towards her and others are for their benefit or his own. He is so multifaceted in this story, thoroughly imperfect, and their relationship is built on a kind of mutual understanding of both of their self-deceptive tendencies— once again, Penelope is self-aware here, achingly so, and it gives the book layers that are so interesting to pick through. So the death of the maids functions as an ultimate question to Odysseus’s character while at once bringing about a note of conclusion to Penelope’s perception of him. They serve to remind him not only of his guilt for murder, but his guilt for treating Penelope as he did, for giving in to his ego rather than seeing her as a person.
I don’t know how much I agree with this book’s ideas about Penelope and Odysseus, but I can definitely say that the interpretation presented here is full of pieces to consider, and it emphasizes them with a believable, raw, and real voice all the way through. This Penelope, and this version of her story, was unique and tragic and wonderful in all the ways I’d hope for in a book like this. I loved it.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Murder, Sexual assault, Violence, and Rape