Powerful Women and their ‘Dependency’ on Men-Homer’s Odyssey and Madeline Miller’s Circe

By Lucy Elford

When reading the renowned 8th century BC epic, The Odyssey by Homer, we can catch a glimpse of a female character who is a shining example of how Ancient Greece would ‘handle’ powerful women and how they would be expressed in literature. This character is Circe- a lower goddess and Witch of Aeaea. Circe’s story is very lightly brushed upon in The Odyssey (she is present for one and a half books) serving the role as a supporting character for the protagonist- Odysseus. The character’s mythical power is rooted in witchcraft- with some adaptations suggesting Circe is the daughter of the goddess of witchcraft, Hecate.

Circe is initially presented by Homer as a daunting and immoral character. When Odysseus’ men come across Circe as they land on her island- she transforms them into pigs, possessing a power over men- they are at her mercy- which was incredibly uncommon for Ancient Greek society- a concept supported by S. Pomeroy in her text ‘Goddesses, Whores, Wives and Slaves- Women in Classical Antiquity’, as she states that ‘women were… under the guardianship of a man, usually the father’ and ‘Upon marriage a woman [is] passed into the guardianship of her husband’- women very rarely have any command over themselves, let alone men. Circe is a powerful woman. That is a fact. She possesses the power to transform men into whatever she wishes at the slightest whisper, she lives solely in female company on an island of her own, and she is a goddess. That is a lot of power for a woman to possess, it seems surprising for an Ancient Greek man, such as Homer, to have included such a character in his poem. However, her power is on a tight leash- and she is ultimately inferior to the Greek Hero Odysseus’ intelligence. He outwits her with a charm against her magic and forces her to promise she will never bewitch him. After this key moment, Circe falls into the background as a prop to support Odysseus’ reputation and ego. She becomes his host and lover- freeing his men and inviting them to stay with her for a year. Circe’s enchanting qualities are repeatedly referred to, and there is the constant reminder of her godly status, significantly in line 244-5 in Fagles’ translation, ‘her enchanting web/a shimmering glory only goddesses can weave’. Here, Homer is demoting Circe’s power and attributing it to Odysseus. It is an expression of his ultimate glory and heroic nature as he is having such a relaxed relationship with an attractive goddess on the way back home to see his wife- it frames Odysseus as a bold and great man who has achieved something commendable. There is an essence of double-standards here- as Odysseus’ account of his times with Circe is comparable to a boast- a display of how irresistible he is, even to Gods; but for Circe, her reputation is tarnished. Circe’s fluidity and her willingness to take up a married lover whilst unmarried herself is turned upon her and used as a weapon to set her up as a cautionary tale for other women who have tasted strength. Goddesses were often allowed more sexual freedom than their mortal counterparts- Aphrodite, for example, has a famous affair with the God of War and this is not a blot on her purity in the slightest. However, there is an ultimate flaw for Circe. Her power isn’t intelligence, like Athena, or chastity and hunting, like Artemis, or even sexuality and cunning, like Aphrodite. No, Circe’s power is rooted in witchcraft. We can look back at literature and our history from across time and witness the same pattern when it comes to strong independent women- to blame their freedom and successes on a perverted mirage of nature- significantly during the Salem Witch Trials (February 1692 to May 1693). By attributing what makes Circe such an intimidating character to witchcraft, Homer and her other creators are cushioning her impact- making her seem less of a threat to men- someone who doesn’t really have her own power, and the power she does possess is something to mock- an insult to use against her. Homer has let Circe down and conformed her into another feat, another tick, for Odysseus’ list.

We can, however, play witness to the redemption of Circe’s character as time has adapted her story to contemporary audiences. In 2018, author Madeline Miller published Circe– her rendition of the witch of Aeaea’s tale, founded in her own narrative. Circe gives the character a more fleshed out personality- she has her own goals, flaws, dreams. Circe is written as a human being with her own life- separated from Odysseus and the tales of other ‘heroic’ Greek men. Miller’s novel illustrates Circe’s life, from a young goddess isolated from her family for looking too ‘mortal’, to a lovestruck woman learning of both her power and betrayal, to a mature witch isolated on her island, exploring love and identity as well as the extent of her abilities, demonstrating the development of Circe’s identity. Circe is an ultimate redemption story where a member of modern society has shifted the narrative to capture a true picture of a powerful Greek woman- conforming to a world where women have their own stories promoted in mainstream media. A significant change from the original stories of Circe and the 2018 retelling is the gender of the author. Homer, the poet behind the Odyssey, was male- a man living in an incredibly patriarchal society where women had no claim over their own lives. However, the author of the modern adaptation, Madeline Miller, is a woman thriving in a society with a considerable amount of equality when compared to the Classical world. This key difference can transform the quality of female characters- something only truly developed since female writers grew in success in the 19th century with the popularity of writers such as the Bronte sisters- it is a relatively modern change. Throughout literature, female writers have introduced women in media to grow from props to support a male narrative, to figures who can survive and inspire their readers by themselves. Miller’s ‘Circe’ is a primary example of this, as she uplifts this character who is deemed both immoral and unimportant into an approachable figure. Her magic is designed to be something to marvel at, her affairs are simple parts of her life- as they would be for men- and her ‘cruel’ acts of transformation have reason behind them. Circe is turned human by Miller’s modern touch- something only achievable in our 21st century society. Miller’s writing is for female readers to reclaim a myth used to strike them down.

The most remarkable aspect of Miller’s novel for me, is the shift in her ending. In the original myth of Circe, she ends up wedded to Odysseus’ son from his marriage to Penelope- Telemachus, and Penelope is in turn married to Circe and Odysseus’ son- Telegonous. The original ending appears to place the female characters in neat boxes- in the Odyssey, Penelope is illustrated as a powerful queen during her husband’s almost 20-year absence, warding off suitors and ruling over her kingdom. Circe too is a formidable figure, being able to have all men at her mercy; both women are a threat to the narrative of Ancient Greek society- that women are merely background characters in the lives of men. Alternatively, Miller shifts this ending to fit alongside modern society’s wishes for women. Circe and Telemachus still wed- however this feels less like a death-sentence for the character and more like a gift of freedom. We witness Circe go through many relationships with men- all end on an unsatisfactory note. She is abused, undervalued, and left behind. With Telemachus, there is the hope of a balanced relationship- she has a say in what they do, where they go, and there is the prospect of actual love between the pair- something we see Circe starved of in all other forms. Circe is given a break from her tormented life as a woman in Ancient Greece, and it isn’t at the expense of her own power. Penelope, however, is given a vastly different ending from her ancient parallel. She has no desire to be married to another, after Odysseus passes. She takes an interest in Circe’s witchcraft whilst taking respite on her island, and when Circe leaves to lead a mortal life with Telemachus, she gives Penelope her title of Witch of Aeaea. Penelope takes her repressed power and finally leads a life without a man in sight- a true deviation from the initial texts where Penelope is practically suffocated by suitors and marriages. It is a refreshingly satisfying ending for the character, again something reflecting modern society’s acceptance of women living alone, unmarried, and happy. Miller gives her key female characters a break from the centuries of lore and expectations pressed upon them- the women can live their entire lives in reference to themselves and their own goals- and Miller doesn’t cut out romance and marriage entirely, conforming to the diversity in female-led narratives in the 21st century- there is the aspect of choice placed into the equation, something 8th century BC lacked completely.

Bibliography

● Homer, The Odyssey, trans. by Robert Fagles, rev. edn (United States: Penguin Books, 1997)

● Miller, Madeline, Circe, Waterstones edn. (Great Britain: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2019)