Circe, You Know, the Sorceress




Circe, famous for turning Odysseus's men into pigs, was born of Helios, the god of the sun, and a nymph named Perse. In Madeline Miller's adaptation, Circe wishes for the approval of her father and a smidge of kindness from her mother. Unfortunately, her parents are gods and only concerned with their own pleasure.


Circe's parents: My thoughts exactly 

At first, she piles all her love unto her brother Aeetes, but he quickly turns his attention to greater things. Alone with her feelings, she falls in love with a mortal who she wills into a god. In thanks, he dumps her. Oh and she also inadvertently creates a monster through jealousy. Whoopsies! This is a new power among the gods and Zeus isn't having it. He exiles her to the island of Aiaia.

Life there sounds pretty sweet, actually. A house that cleans itself? Lots of alone time for sorcery? Pet lions and wolves? Sign me up! However, it's not long until the terrible, terrible world lands at her door. How will Circe deal with humanity?

Circe is a sympathetic look at the goddess. Instead of the evil witch nearly all of literature makes her out to be, she's a goddess with special powers which could be used for good or ill. And mostly she's just trying to be good. Wherever she is, she's lonely, whether it's in her father's palace or her deserted island. Her loneliness makes her desperate. Early on she's a bit of a doormat, but after centuries she comes into her own. By the end of the novel, she's quite the bad ass!

A modern day Circe

Circe is a "suck it, patriarchy" novel, turning the usual narrative of a powerful female as "E-veeeeel" into a story of a goddess finding her rightful place in the world. And I loved it.


That Was a Book That I Read: Mrs Palfrey at The Claremont



Oof! This was not the most uplifting start to the new year. I really wanted my first review of the year to be full on fireworks but I feel pretty 'meh' about this book.

Mrs Palfrey at The Claremont takes place in the late 60s and I guess it was a thing for hotels to rent out rooms to the elderly then. (???) Maybe Assisted Living hadn't been invented yet. I don't know. Anyway Mrs Palfrey checks into the London hotel, The Claremont. She tries to fit into the already established group of elderly people. She casually mentions her adult grandson, Desmond, who lives nearby and how he might visit her. She has no idea that she's walked into a elderly Mean Girls type trap.



You can't just casually bring up a relative to these people. Visitors are the only kind of excitement any of them have. They don't go anywhere or do anything else. Visitors are a status symbol. If you have them, you are admired. To not have them, you are pitied or worse. Everyday Mrs Palfrey is asked, "When is your grandson coming?" She knows Desmond isn't coming. Her relationship with her family is not great.

On a walk, Mrs Palfrey has a fall and is rescued by a young man, Ludo, a poor writer. As a thank you, Mrs Palfrey lures offers him a meal at The Claremont, with one catch: she must call him Desmond.

In the beginning, both of them are using the other. For Mrs Palfrey it's to save face, Ludo fodder for his novel. (He decides to title his novel "We Aren't Allowed to Die Here" from something Mrs Palfrey says.) Eventually a real inter-generational friendship grows between them.

You would think passing off a stranger as a close relation would be the beginning of all kinds of shenanigans, right? Sadly, shenanigans were lacking. One or two whoopsies but no Three's Company style mixups.

I've never read anything by Elizabeth Taylor before and I'm not sure of what the tone is. It wavers between light-hearted and incredibly grim. Pretty much every character is terrible. Taylor hops from one character's mind to the next and she doesn't hold back on what they are thinking. They are petty and selfish. Typically human but it's a bummer to read.

Not much happens at The Claremont. The older guests waste time between meals complaining about the weather and watching the other guests come and go. They rarely have visitors and those that do come are in a rush to leave. The occasional funeral livens things up. Mrs Palfrey soldiers on, then the book turns dark and, boom, The End.

I don't know guys. I don't think January is conducive to right mind set for a novel like this. It's winter. It's dreary. Or maybe this book is too real.


Anyway, I'm moving on! If you love this one, all the high fives for you. Don't @ me, bro.