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juushikaTitle: The Penelopiad
Author: Margret Atwood
Published: New York: Canongate, 2005
Page Count: 199
Total Page Count: 39,152
Text Number: 112
Read For: my own enjoyment, checked out from the library
Short review: In a retelling of recognizable classical myth, Atwood tells the story of Penelope, the patient wife of Odysseus, and her twelve maids, who Odysseus hanged on his return to Ithica. Alternating between Penelope's narrative, the musings and conclusions of a intelligent but jaded woman from her afterlife, and the chorus of the maids as they sing, chant, and perform plays, Penelopiad tells the story in multiple ways while still maintaining a coherent narrative. It questions and redefines how much Penelope knew, and tackles the issue of guilt—both Penelope's and Odysseus's—in the matter of the maid's deaths. For all of these contrasting and complex issues, the text is short, straightforward, and swiftly readable. However, it is not particularly satisfying: the book's theories and the way that they are laid against each other are all very interesting, but with so many ideas in so little length, none are addressed in detail or fully realized. An original, thoughtful text and a much-needed feminine retelling, but somewhat lacking—too short and too simple. Moderately recommended.
As is customary with Atwood, this text is a fresh, irreverent, often frank look at female issues; the difference here is that the subject is the well known and often told story of Odysseus. However, no matter how much he defines it, Odysseus does not overshadow his wife's story. Rather, the story of Penelope and the issue of the maids are given the book's full attention. It is not a simple story: in the alternating chapters given to Penelope and to the maids, they tells different, often contradictory stories. Penelope's story runs the body narrative, although even she recognizes that there is no one single truth—or, if there is, it is impossible to identify with certainty. The maids provide alternate interpretations and counterpoints that complicate the subject and illustrate their own role, innocence, and suffering. The result is a honestly complex text that accepts nothing at face value and refuses to simplify the situation or to accept traditional, easy interpretations.
Despite the mass of points and counterpoints, of contradicting ideas, the book remains short, straightforward, and readable. In her afterlife, Penelope sums up her own life very swiftly, and does so with a jaded dry wit that makes her honest and keeps her from wallowing in the details. The maid's chorus, often appearing in short play or in rhyme, is also short and swift, presenting concepts and emotions but not taking the time to delve deep into them before moving on to the next. The result is a text that is short, highly accessible, and swiftly readable—it takes one sitting, perhaps two. In many ways, this is the book's strength: it retains all it's good qualities without becoming heavy, lengthy, or turning from a piece of art into a history text. In other ways, however, this is the book's greatest failing: the ideas are presented so swiftly and so baldly that there is no time to engage any of them in depth. As such, they lie flat and remain unexplored, and the reader is left surprisingly empty for all of the complex content: it is something like sampling the first bite of every dish at a buffet but being allowed to load none onto one's plate. There is so much potential, but none is truly investigated, understood, or enjoyed.
The Penelopiad is relevant, creative, and accessible. The subject is familiar, and so it's female/feminist retelling is meaningful to a wide audience. Atwood complicates the issue, bringing new questions and doubts to light that will inspire thought in the reader—the ideal for almost any book, but especially one of this sort. Although the characters lived thousands of years ago, their story remains relevant and, through the unconventional narratives, accessible to contemporary readers. As such, I recommend this book: it is a worthwhile and interesting read that communicates much while still remaining highly accessible. However, I only recommend it moderately, as the book's swiftness and lack of depth left me feeling empty and disappointed. This book is good, and worth the read, but it still pales in comparison to Atwood's other novels.
Review posted here at Amazon.com.
Author: Margret Atwood
Published: New York: Canongate, 2005
Page Count: 199
Total Page Count: 39,152
Text Number: 112
Read For: my own enjoyment, checked out from the library
Short review: In a retelling of recognizable classical myth, Atwood tells the story of Penelope, the patient wife of Odysseus, and her twelve maids, who Odysseus hanged on his return to Ithica. Alternating between Penelope's narrative, the musings and conclusions of a intelligent but jaded woman from her afterlife, and the chorus of the maids as they sing, chant, and perform plays, Penelopiad tells the story in multiple ways while still maintaining a coherent narrative. It questions and redefines how much Penelope knew, and tackles the issue of guilt—both Penelope's and Odysseus's—in the matter of the maid's deaths. For all of these contrasting and complex issues, the text is short, straightforward, and swiftly readable. However, it is not particularly satisfying: the book's theories and the way that they are laid against each other are all very interesting, but with so many ideas in so little length, none are addressed in detail or fully realized. An original, thoughtful text and a much-needed feminine retelling, but somewhat lacking—too short and too simple. Moderately recommended.
As is customary with Atwood, this text is a fresh, irreverent, often frank look at female issues; the difference here is that the subject is the well known and often told story of Odysseus. However, no matter how much he defines it, Odysseus does not overshadow his wife's story. Rather, the story of Penelope and the issue of the maids are given the book's full attention. It is not a simple story: in the alternating chapters given to Penelope and to the maids, they tells different, often contradictory stories. Penelope's story runs the body narrative, although even she recognizes that there is no one single truth—or, if there is, it is impossible to identify with certainty. The maids provide alternate interpretations and counterpoints that complicate the subject and illustrate their own role, innocence, and suffering. The result is a honestly complex text that accepts nothing at face value and refuses to simplify the situation or to accept traditional, easy interpretations.
Despite the mass of points and counterpoints, of contradicting ideas, the book remains short, straightforward, and readable. In her afterlife, Penelope sums up her own life very swiftly, and does so with a jaded dry wit that makes her honest and keeps her from wallowing in the details. The maid's chorus, often appearing in short play or in rhyme, is also short and swift, presenting concepts and emotions but not taking the time to delve deep into them before moving on to the next. The result is a text that is short, highly accessible, and swiftly readable—it takes one sitting, perhaps two. In many ways, this is the book's strength: it retains all it's good qualities without becoming heavy, lengthy, or turning from a piece of art into a history text. In other ways, however, this is the book's greatest failing: the ideas are presented so swiftly and so baldly that there is no time to engage any of them in depth. As such, they lie flat and remain unexplored, and the reader is left surprisingly empty for all of the complex content: it is something like sampling the first bite of every dish at a buffet but being allowed to load none onto one's plate. There is so much potential, but none is truly investigated, understood, or enjoyed.
The Penelopiad is relevant, creative, and accessible. The subject is familiar, and so it's female/feminist retelling is meaningful to a wide audience. Atwood complicates the issue, bringing new questions and doubts to light that will inspire thought in the reader—the ideal for almost any book, but especially one of this sort. Although the characters lived thousands of years ago, their story remains relevant and, through the unconventional narratives, accessible to contemporary readers. As such, I recommend this book: it is a worthwhile and interesting read that communicates much while still remaining highly accessible. However, I only recommend it moderately, as the book's swiftness and lack of depth left me feeling empty and disappointed. This book is good, and worth the read, but it still pales in comparison to Atwood's other novels.
Review posted here at Amazon.com.
