Part of the Canongate Myths series, Margaret Atwood’s THE PENELOPIAD tells the story of Homer’s THE ODYSSEY from the perspective of – you got it – Odysseus’ wife, Penelope, and her 12 handmaidens.
In the introduction, Atwood says she approached THE ODYSSEY with a central question in mind: Why in the hell did the handmaidens have to be strung up with Penelope’s suitors when Odysseus returned from his epic voyage? He did his share of cavorting while he was away, and surely he had to be pretty tired after all that hubris, so why waste the effort?
Things are not, of course, as they seem, and THE PENELOPIAD is strangely reminiscent of John Gardner’s BEOWULF retelling GRENDEL, even if Penelope and the misunderstood monster bear little resemblance to one another. Penelope begins the tale with her strange childhood as the daughter of a king and a water nymph, and things just get weirder from there. When her husband goes away to invent the Olympics and build wooden metaphors, Penelope is left to deal with a household rife with rumors (did you hear the one about Odysseus and Calypso?), suitors and intrigue. As Penelope fights all these battles using only her wits, she enlists the help of her 12 handmaidens, who form a suitably Greek chorus for the proceedings. Their resentment of and their positions in life are evident and sad, but this doesn’t stop them from joining in what will eventually lead to their collective doom.
Atwood has the chops for this work. She ably delves into the central truths of the situation and pulls readers into a world that goes beyond feminist “help me, I’m being opressed” revisionism and adds context to Penelope’s life and death at a time when gods walked the Earth and men and women did what they could to avoid Zeus’ wrath. Atwood soars away from the mildly entertaining chick lit that THE PENELOPIAD could have been, creating a work that serves as an engrossing, brand-new chapter to one of the most enduring works of literature ever created. –Ryun Patterson
No related posts.
