De Rijdende Boekenwurm
The Silence Behind the Legend
Some myths are loud with heroes and victories. Others linger quietly in the spaces between the lines. In ‘The Penelopiad’, Margaret Atwood steps away from the heroic legend of Odysseus and instead hands the story to Penelope, the woman history mostly remembers as the one who waited.
From the underworld, Penelope looks back on her life with a voice that feels calm on the surface yet edged with sharp reflection. The famous story of loyalty and patience slowly unravels as she recounts her marriage, the endless waiting, and the expectations placed upon her. What once sounded like devotion begins to feel far more complicated when seen through her own eyes.
One of the most striking elements of the book is its structure. Atwood alternates Penelope’s narration with choral interludes from the twelve maids who were executed when Odysseus returned home. These sections shift the tone of the story and add a haunting presence that lingers between the chapters. They challenge the traditional myth and force the reader to look again at a story that has long been accepted without question.
The narrative itself is reflective rather than plot driven. This gives the novella a contemplative atmosphere, but it also means the pacing sometimes feels uneven. The experimental passages may distance some readers who expect a more immersive retelling of Greek mythology. At the same time, those very moments are what give the story its unsettling power.
What remains most memorable is the quiet dismantling of the heroic narrative. Instead of glory and triumph, the story becomes something far more human. It raises questions about loyalty, power, and the voices that history chooses to forget.
‘The Penelopiad’ reads like an echo drifting up from the underworld. Quiet. Thought provoking. And long after the final page, the voices of the maids still linger in the dark spaces of the myth.
Greek myth retelling | Feminist retelling | Myth from the female perspective | Literary fiction | Afterlife narration | Unreliable narrator
The Silence Behind the Legend
Some myths are loud with heroes and victories. Others linger quietly in the spaces between the lines. In ‘The Penelopiad’, Margaret Atwood steps away from the heroic legend of Odysseus and instead hands the story to Penelope, the woman history mostly remembers as the one who waited.
From the underworld, Penelope looks back on her life with a voice that feels calm on the surface yet edged with sharp reflection. The famous story of loyalty and patience slowly unravels as she recounts her marriage, the endless waiting, and the expectations placed upon her. What once sounded like devotion begins to feel far more complicated when seen through her own eyes.
One of the most striking elements of the book is its structure. Atwood alternates Penelope’s narration with choral interludes from the twelve maids who were executed when Odysseus returned home. These sections shift the tone of the story and add a haunting presence that lingers between the chapters. They challenge the traditional myth and force the reader to look again at a story that has long been accepted without question.
The narrative itself is reflective rather than plot driven. This gives the novella a contemplative atmosphere, but it also means the pacing sometimes feels uneven. The experimental passages may distance some readers who expect a more immersive retelling of Greek mythology. At the same time, those very moments are what give the story its unsettling power.
What remains most memorable is the quiet dismantling of the heroic narrative. Instead of glory and triumph, the story becomes something far more human. It raises questions about loyalty, power, and the voices that history chooses to forget.
‘The Penelopiad’ reads like an echo drifting up from the underworld. Quiet. Thought provoking. And long after the final page, the voices of the maids still linger in the dark spaces of the myth.
Greek myth retelling | Feminist retelling | Myth from the female perspective | Literary fiction | Afterlife narration | Unreliable narrator