I’m a slut for mythology and the Odyssey saga has always been one of my favourites — but I’m also one of those people who thinks the women written into these stories, characters that have become timeless icons of literature, were never given the respect they deserve.
That’s why I adore Rosie Hewlett so much; she identifies the way that women read these stories, the way we recognise things in these characters that the men writing them couldn’t understand, the way we can see them as more than a wife, a witch — and she raises the voice we already heard. And seeing as she already killed it with one of my most loved women in ancient lit, Medea, I was so excited to read her reimagining of Penelope, a mighty, clever, fair queen who is written off as anything but the patient, loyal wife of Odysseus and the often forgotten 'rebellious handmaid' Melantho.
Immediately I was drawn in by the thoughtful, descriptive prose that set the tone, the time, the atmosphere so well with a heavy mixture of overbearing fear, the threat of war and a sense of covertness that made everything feel so high-stakes and emotional.
"Let history have it's lies, if it means we can have each other."
We start with Melantho as just a child, seeing the world through an innocent lens who doesn’t understand the dangers she’s facing while we, the reader, watch on in horror at the cruel world, the politics and violence she and the strange princess Penelope live in. It moves fluidly, quick chapters, excellent pacing and full of magnificent world building that makes the story undeniably consuming.
We watch these two girls navigate a strange kinship in a world that separates them by so much, try to understand their love and their social responsibility before they are torn apart — only to reunite when the divide is so much wider and old wounds open again. It delves into the untold, the women whose hands are being fought over, who run kingdoms silently and underestimated, who are forced into slavery and sold - two girls owned by men in different ways, who are vital parts of their society but are never allowed to seek the praise or thanks for it.
"But why are there no stories like this, like ours? Why do people only sing of love between men, or men with women?' 'Because men are the ones telling the stories, and they cannot fathom something existing without their involvement.'"
Melantho takes the role of our narrator, letting us into her life and mind as the decades fall away, watching two women imprisoned by different parts of society form a bond, create waves — every woman they encountered was a beautiful, shining example of feminine power, solidarity and care. Their relationship was stunning; delicate, essential, living in that borderland of romance and friendship, growing with them and honestly making me blush with the sheer chemistry between them.
"'Your love is the kind the poets would write about.' In Greek, we have many different words for love. Telemachus used the word Philia, denoting the truest form of friendship, a soul-to-soul bond. I had once believed my love for Penelope was like this, intimate yet platonic. But over time, I had realised that was just a hopeful lie."
A stunning, magical tale about female power, love and joy - told in a hauntingly poetic, wickedly clever and simply joyous reimagining of an ancient story.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
- Sweetbitter song is available from 17th March with Random House
- This title includes potentially upsetting content including slavery and servitude , implications of sexual abuse and grooming including children, torture, and violence.
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