Claire North

Damn. This was bad. Not like, horrifically bad, but just like... generally bad. And I already rate pretty harshly, so poor Ithaca just didn't have a chance.

Ithaca tells the story of Penelope (of The Odyssey fame), dealing with the rash-like abundance of suitors as she waits for her husband Odysseus to return to their beloved island of Ithaca. Trouble begins when raiders begin to encroach the island, pushing Penelope to marry, and the secret arrival of her cousin Clytemnestra, who just murdered her husband Agamemnon of the The Oresteia fame and is on the lam. Machinations, goddess-drama, and annoying whelps ensue, until fate has its way on the poor island.

Ithaca isn't a poorly constructed novel so much as it is boring, overwritten, and mindless. It didn't present the reader with anything new, and instead took a potentially fruitful scenario and pondered on and on until it withered up and died. I have no doubt that the only reason this was published (and sold as a TRILOGY!?) is that the author is established in the industry and that there is a large publishing push right now with Greek and other mythology retelling to secure enough sold copies. I mean hell, it got me: trendy and beautiful cover, women’s fiction, Ancient Greek story. Triple whammy book request if there’s ever been one. Unfortunately, this is the kind of book they warn you about in elementary school: it’s truly the worst book with the best cover that I’ve read in a long time.

The story has a fascination with the trappings of Ancient Greek storytelling that I fear the author believed would carry more weight than it did. It has that oh-so-memorable turns of phrase for anyone who studied the language: we get a good “rosy-fingered dawn” and an interesting inverted patronymic of “father-of” with many male characters—the most annoying unfortunately is the constant “what will the poets think?” anytime a woman does anything a bit off the book, shall we say. It seems that a woman cannot so much as breathe in an unladylike way and it’s noted for the reader like a giant red arrow for all to see. There's very little subtlety in this book. This is the sort of stuff that "feminist retelling" criticism was made for.

While these turns of phrase show that the author has, at least, put some thought into the accoutrements of her writing, so many things were just—well—straight up wrong historically speaking. And without any explanation as to why. I think the standout was the relationship and actions of Penelope’s (enslaved!) maids, who all acted like this massive line of power just… didn’t exist? Yes, they bowed and simpered a bit, but the odd veiling etiquette, the way they all spoke to the queen, and the level of agency they had were all just massively ignored. It told me right away that the people who would enjoy this are not the ones who know very much about this world...

Perhaps the most egregious is the overall tone of the novel: the author employs the goddess Hera as the narrator, which speaking on a narrative level sucks all the life out of the God damn thing. Naturally, then, it’s written in a very grand voice that the author is simply not good enough to pull off authentically. And there were so many damn adjectives! Double triple adjectives! Purple prose my god!

Basically, and I said this earlier, this book is boring, without any reason for being so. I always feel like I have to reiterate, I read boring books: look at my classics tag. Like, if your plot is thin, the characterization or the theme or the beauty of your writing has got to be superb. Unfortunately, this novel does not supply any of those. The characters are flat and there is somehow no character development in the 400+ pages. There are no themes other than "Wow, did you know women did stuff and had feelings two thousand years ago?", and the small bits of beauty in the text are buried beneath eye-rolling metaphors without a hint of something gruff and good.

Anyway. Eh.… (més)

I was interested in a novel focused on Penelope and how she could have managed to fend off a pack of unruly suitors for years in the absence of Odysseus, her husband. This was an interesting take on that, with Penelope forced to use subterfuge because of the male dominated culture. Only an old counsellor, Medon, was secretly sympathetic to her.

Pirates beset the island, appearing to come from a far off country, but they don't ask to be paid off as usual, and Penelope, Medon and Penelope's female allies all suspect one of the men squatting in her house to be responsible, trying to force her into accepting him. Meanwhile, to favour one suitor is to trigger civil war with the rest, and her teenage son, Telemachus, has bought into the culture of male superiority and is being difficult.

To cap it all, the children of Clytemnestra arrive demanding Penelope's assistance in finding their mother so that her son, Orestes, can kill her, something demanded by the culture before he can become king of Mycenae. Penelope has already worked out that Clytemnestra is on Ithaca, and wants to smuggle her off the island, but she also desperately needs the political support of Mycenae, and if Orestes doesn't become its king, his rapacious uncle, Menelaus, will take over and swallow up Ithaca.

The story is told from the viewpoint of the goddess, Hera, having her own problems due to the bullying dominance of Zeus. Although this has the benefit of showing various characters in different places, it does introduce a distance between the reader and Penelope. There were some interesting characters, including the eastern female warrior, whose people gave rise to the legend of the Amazons, and who trains the women to defend the island - which must be done in secret. The underground women's network is also interesting. On balance, I would rate the book as a 3 star read.… (més)

3.25 stars

The concept of reliving the same life over and over is certainly an interesting one, but I became skeptical when it's shared that if one of these types of people is prevented from being born (parents are killed before conception, abortion is carried out, mother & unborn baby are killed), then the person will never again be born, not in this life or the next one. There was never any explanation for why this is the case, and it clearly makes no sense; so it's purely a plot device. The ending was predictable, of course; how could it not be given the illogical parameters of this special ability to live life repeatedly? Sadly, the second half dragged and I just wanted it to end.

There's a fair bit of profanity, especially the f-word and God's name used in vain.

I would have liked to see more involvement with female characters, or to explore Harry's relationships with his adoptive family more, perhaps showcasing differences in each life.

An okay read, but disappointing at the same time.… (més)

The goddess Hera was the presiding Olympian presence in the first novel in this series, Ithaca. Here it is Aphrodite, goddess of love and desire, whose attention is focused on Penelope, her household, and her guests, those invited and uninvited, which include Menelaus and, especially, Helen, his wife, for whom the world broke itself apart before the gates of Troy. Helen is still beautiful, though it may take more time now before the silver mirror. And the mask she puts on may hide more than just a few minor blemishes. As ever, despite the bluster and noise of men like Menelaus and lesser men like Penelope’s unwanted suitors, it is the women on Ithaca who warrant our interest.

After the murder of Clytemnestra, Orestes and his sister, Elektra, flee to Ithaca pursued by the Harpies and a more sinister foe, poison. Orestes is being poisoned in such a way that he will appear to be mad. But even absconding from the heart of Mycenae has not freed them from these plagues. Can Penelope help? Especially now that Menelaus and his Spartan army of “protectors” have arrived to look after his blood brother Odysseus’ wife? Clearly Menelaus has designs on the Mycenaean throne. But what does Helen have to do with all this?

Once again Claire North brings ancient Greece to life. All of the women here are fascinating, strong and courageous, but none so wily as Penelope and, given half a chance, her cousin Helen. Whether in battle scenes or the even more dangerous battles at court, these women manoeuvre and strike, usually unseen and definitely unreported by the poets. Aphrodite is understandably a little bit in awe. As am I.

Recommended.… (més)