Clytemnestra and Helen are two famous women in Greek mythology. They are seen as pawns of the gods but are also women of agency: determined, reckless and cruel in love. This novel delves into their private lives, starting with what they might have been like as children.
Clytemnestra and Helen are reared in the Spartan tradition, daughters of the Spartan king Tyndareus and the Aetolian queen Leda. While Helen’s fair skin and tender ways towards wounded men make her father suspicious that she wasn’t his child, Clytemnestra proves to be as fierce as any Spartan.
We learn that she shaved her head and tried to pass as a boy in order to train with Spartan boys. She fearlessly pursues dangerous beasts in the hunt: lynxes and wolves, e.g. She is a Spartiate, a woman who trains to hunt, fight and kill alongside the men in battle. As the daughters of a Spartan king, such behavior is expected and the author details such a life with all its careful force, power and care of a people who see warfare as a necessary part of life.
Her sister Helen tags along, as many younger siblings do with their elder ones. This takes the reader aback as the mythological Helen is often seen as a pampered beauty, a lovely woman whose soft skin has never known a bruise or a scar. Ms. Casati displays an entirely different Helen, one almost as intense as her savage older sister.
The bond between these two siblings is fierce and seems unbreakable. Clytemnestra knows and accepts that her sister is amazingly lovely, although she gives scant credit to Zeus for it being so. In fact, Clytemnestra doesn’t really care about the gods at all and scoffs at Helen’s fear of displeasing them. She’s not an atheist but she comes very near to unbelief.
It’s eye-opening, riveting matter, these two girls’s fleshed-out backstories, penned as only a master writer can. We hold our breaths as Clytemnestra hunts against a deadly beast. We hope that Helen will show a fierceness that will placate the distrustful Tyndareus. We cheer as Clytemnestra flies to the aid of her beleaguered sister.
Queen Leda is also given a surprising twist of nature. The myth of her bestial sexual encounter with Zeus is alternately called rape or seduction, depending on the teller. But her marriage to Tyndareus was in the Spartan tradition: an abduction, fight and attack that looks startling like molestation but then yields to willing lovemaking. So we understand that Clytemnestra owes her warrior spirit to both parents. Such natures do not lend themselves to easy fates.
We admire the young Clytemnestra for her love, courage, loyalty, watchfulness and strength. This excerpt displays a girl who is well on her way to becoming a powerful queen.
Clytemnestra and Helen are reared in the Spartan tradition, daughters of the Spartan king Tyndareus and the Aetolian queen Leda. While Helen’s fair skin and tender ways towards wounded men make her father suspicious that she wasn’t his child, Clytemnestra proves to be as fierce as any Spartan.
We learn that she shaved her head and tried to pass as a boy in order to train with Spartan boys. She fearlessly pursues dangerous beasts in the hunt: lynxes and wolves, e.g. She is a Spartiate, a woman who trains to hunt, fight and kill alongside the men in battle. As the daughters of a Spartan king, such behavior is expected and the author details such a life with all its careful force, power and care of a people who see warfare as a necessary part of life.
Her sister Helen tags along, as many younger siblings do with their elder ones. This takes the reader aback as the mythological Helen is often seen as a pampered beauty, a lovely woman whose soft skin has never known a bruise or a scar. Ms. Casati displays an entirely different Helen, one almost as intense as her savage older sister.
The bond between these two siblings is fierce and seems unbreakable. Clytemnestra knows and accepts that her sister is amazingly lovely, although she gives scant credit to Zeus for it being so. In fact, Clytemnestra doesn’t really care about the gods at all and scoffs at Helen’s fear of displeasing them. She’s not an atheist but she comes very near to unbelief.
It’s eye-opening, riveting matter, these two girls’s fleshed-out backstories, penned as only a master writer can. We hold our breaths as Clytemnestra hunts against a deadly beast. We hope that Helen will show a fierceness that will placate the distrustful Tyndareus. We cheer as Clytemnestra flies to the aid of her beleaguered sister.
Queen Leda is also given a surprising twist of nature. The myth of her bestial sexual encounter with Zeus is alternately called rape or seduction, depending on the teller. But her marriage to Tyndareus was in the Spartan tradition: an abduction, fight and attack that looks startling like molestation but then yields to willing lovemaking. So we understand that Clytemnestra owes her warrior spirit to both parents. Such natures do not lend themselves to easy fates.
We admire the young Clytemnestra for her love, courage, loyalty, watchfulness and strength. This excerpt displays a girl who is well on her way to becoming a powerful queen.