Circe Review

The odds of me liking Circe were fairly high. I love Greek mythology. I love retellings, particularly those that feature characters who are often overlooked. I’ll always root for stories that focus on people who would otherwise be considered the sidekick or a background character. I adored Song of Achilles. I fully expected this book to receive a 4.5-star rating, at least.

That’s not where I’ve landed, though.

This book deserves much more than a 3.5-star rating, but I can’t say it deserves a solid four. The various settings are excellent. Circe is skillfully woven into several different myths. So many characters have well-structured nuances that bring them to life. There isn’t a major battle or a destiny to claim, just drama through the centuries, and I wasn’t bored once during this almost 400-page read.

It took me a while to figure out what my issue with the book is, which is surprising since it’s the main character. Circe herself is why this book doesn’t get a higher rating. Still, after realizing she is the problem, I couldn’t fully explain why.

Despite the challenges she faces, she maintains her agency. She’s vivid and imperfect and raw compared to the other gods, Titans, and nymphs. For the latter part of the book, I resonated deeply with her struggles and fears as a mother.

So, why is she the problem?

Circe is too much like Patroclus from Song of Achilles. I don’t mean to imply that they’re the same character. No, Patroclus is tragically mortal, and so is Circe at her core. I fully understand the narrative choice for Circe to come across that way, and I don’t even dislike it, but from the very start she’s like this. She never has the ferocity that I’d expect from a creature such as herself. If not for following her since her birth, it would be hard to believe that she’s the daughter of Helios and a witch whom even Zeus fears. She never once bought the hype about herself, even when she was turning men into pigs.

I wanted her to struggle more with the identity thrust upon her and her true self. A time when she lost herself to the expectations of someone from her lineage would have balanced out the rest, and the ending would have felt better earned.

Overall, though, this book is exactly what I expected it to be, and I’m not upset by that. Do I like it as much as Song of Achilles? No. Will it remain on my bookshelf and be re-read multiple times? Hell yeah.