for Fluffy mou
Every story has a point of view. Sometimes it is that of the narrator. Other times it’s that of the narrated upon.
The point of view most repeated is generally the point of view most believed. But repetition does not make it a fact.
A patriarchal society sustains the patriarchal point of view and, in doing so, obliterates a woman’s truth.
Women, tired of being silenced have, over time, attempted to voice their own truths despite the many obstacles. For what good is a voice if it can’t be used?
Many contemporary women writers are using their talents to bring women out of obscurity and to free them from culturally imposed muteness. Once such book is Madeline Miller’s Circe.
Circe is the daughter of the god Helios and the naiad Perse. Compared to her other siblings, Circe seems plain and boring so she’s largely ignored. Loneliness can mutilate one’s perception of themselves and Circe is no exception. She is so lonely that she keeps looking for love in all the wrong places. Despite knowing that it’s prohibited, Circe falls in love with a mortal. And to give her love story a chance, Circe decides to transform her mortal crush into an immortal man by using magic. Her father, like Zeus, is afraid of witchcraft as it challenges his own powers. So, with no concern for his daughter’s emotional needs, Helios banishes Circe to an uninhabited island.
Exiled and feeling more alone than ever, Circe struggles to survive and does so with the help of witchcraft.
One day a ship full of sailors shows up on her shores. Circe gives them food and wine. Instead of gratitude, the captain rapes her and the sailors seek to steal whatever they can. Circe’s humiliation and despair is so great that she retaliates by using her magic to kill them. But, in doing so, she becomes more like them than like herself. Not wanting to destroy or to be destroyed, she no longer uses her magic to kill. But, if men prefer to behave like beasts, it’s only fitting that she transform them into pigs.
This concept of transformation, that is, metamorphosis, is a recurring theme in Greek mythology. Gods used it all the time. Zeus transformed himself into a swan in order to rape an unwilling Leda. Apollo lusted after Daphne so her father turned her into a tree. And when pirates kidnapped Dionysus to sell him as a slave, the angry god transformed them into dolphins.
To transform others is a power but, even more powerful, is personal transformation via self-awareness.
“Humbling women seems to be a chief pastime of poets,” Circe says at one point. “As if there can be no story unless we crawl and weep.”
Tired of crawling, Circe understands she must gain control of her own life. And like every other woman, she must arrive at this self-knowledge by painful experience.
No longer willing to let patriarchal canons and its violent misogyny define her life, Circe begins to create her own narrative. And being a witch gives her more power than does being a goddess. Therefore, she is willing to work hard for this transformation.
What Circe has taught me:
You have to envision where you want to go because ideals are like a map and give you a direction.
We women need to create our own destiny. This means being willing to work hard and, when we fail, we must simply pick ourselves up and try again.
Stories shape reality. So chose the narrative you have of yourself wisely.
Related: Pompeii dig reveals erotic Leda and Swan fresco + Forms of Astonishment: Greek Myths of Metamorphosis + Circe by Madeline Miller review – Greek classic thrums with contemporary relevance +
The Narrative Within 