Showing posts with label Greek Myth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Greek Myth. Show all posts

Saturday, August 13, 2022

"Head of a Gorgon" by Raegen M. Pietrucha--Fiction Review

Today Obscurists, we’re diving into another book on poetry. Full disclosure—these poems and the overall narrative of this book touch on violence, sexual and otherwise. It also involves mental health, including straying into the realm of suicide ideation, so it’s worth keeping that in mind before picking it up. Besides that, “Head of a Gorgon” by Raegen M. Pietrucha is thought-provoking and visceral.


Raegen M. Pietrucha


What I love about this book:

Succinctly put, “Head of a Gorgon” is an incredible read—it’s short, so I flew through it in one sitting, but I also felt compelled to re-read portions of it again, more than once. 

I’m a sucker for anything touching on Greek myth ever since I read Madeline Miller’s “Circe,” which I’ve also reviewed. Pietrucha’s work hits in the same vein as that novel—reimaging a female character from classical myth as someone more complicated than a straight villain—while approaching the subject from a wildly different angle.

I found myself enjoying the structure of this book—a narrative told through poems—it got me to do two things I seldom do; first, I read a physical paper book with my terrible eyes, and second I read a poetry book which is always a challenge for me. Overall, still a rewarding experience. 

From start to finish, it’s hard to put down or even take a break from because each bit is laser-focused and leads right into the next one. So quickly, I would find myself on the treadmill of, “well, I’ll just read one more poem,” and then it would be another one after that, and after that, and so on and so forth.


What I don’t love about this book:

As much as I enjoyed this narrative approach to poetry—it’s still poetry. So it’s a stretch for me, and I need to be in the right frame of mind to enjoy any poetry. I’m constantly battling the feeling when reading it that I just don’t get it, and it’s going over my head. 

Poetry is one of those creative forms of writing I wish I were better at writing and enjoying, but people can also hope for wings. My attempts all come off as artificial to myself. So really, these are more things I’m disappointed in myself than “Head of a Gorgon.” Ultimately, I found the experience of this book sublime, even with its darker moments. Since it slots into a section of literature I’m not all too familiar with, it’s difficult for me to grasp onto anything to critique. My experience was pretty uniform from start to finish; I was pleasantly surprised.


Author’s Website: https://raegenmp.wordpress.com/


Analysis:

While I’m sure almost everyone in the world knows who Medusa is, still knowing a bit about Greek mythology adds immeasurably to the experience of these poems. For instance, when the conversations between M and P are happening, it’s obviously helpful to know Medusa’s story to deduce who P is in this context. But less obvious is—there are a lot of references to water in these poems, and at first, that might seem confusing because Medusa isn’t the same snake-like monster as Scylla, who spent her time munching on sailors like Odysseus’s men. But, if you know Medusa’s parents and how prominently M’s parents play a role in these poems, especially at the beginning and the end—the references to water make much more sense.

I also liked the shedding skin sections—in theme and style. It’s a clever call back to earlier poems in the narrative of this collection presented through deconstruction to change the meaning of those earlier poems. It had to have taken some serious planning to execute.


Parting thoughts:

In literature, there are a lot of women who get short shrift, especially in myths. For as much as I find Greek mythology fascinating, women had few roles, and in Scylla, Circe, Medusa, and Calypsos cases—to create a short list—they are often antagonists our male heroes have to overcome. If they aren’t dutiful wives—then they’re witches, seductresses, or straight-up monsters, with no in between.

The real power of a narrative like in “Head of a Gorgon” is to take that negative persona and flip it on its ear. It wasn’t until the modern era—as far as I know—that anyone considered the qualia of what it was like to be in Medusa’s head, or any of them for that matter.

I believe that context matters—with context comes understanding and empathy. Redefining these ancient characters’ context is creative and breathes new and better life into them. I think that is the heart of what I liked the most about this book and others like it.

Monday, November 22, 2021

Micro Mention "The Aeneid"

Virgil


Both Dido and Camilla in the "Aeneid" are super badass women—and both were done dirty by Aeneas directly and indirectly, respectively, resulting in their deaths, which is just one more reason I don't like Aeneas.

Having read Virgil's "sequel" to Homer's work, it feels like possibly the earliest form of fan fiction complete with its own original character—who is, like, super badass and better than all those original Greek characters. And much like modern fanfiction that engages in this, I don't particularly like that story beat and roll my eyes. That's who the Romans were as a people, though, unimaginative conquerors who were partial to absorbing other people's societies and cultures, slap some different names on them, and then proclaim themselves the chosen ones.

Virgil is especially keen to convince us that Aeneas is so much better than my favorite character in these myths, Odysseus, renamed Ulysses because—again—the Romans were weirdly unimaginative as an empire. Anyway, let us not forget that when all is said and done, Aeneas, the Trojan, lost, because Odysseus, the Greek, wrecked his shit. This whole story of this loser pissing off to Italy to be the progenitor of the Roman Empire mystifies me because I'm unsure why Virgil thought it was inspiring. 

Maybe stoicism? 

The quick synopsis of the Aeneid is the Trojans lose the war against the Greeks, and Aeneas leads them on a road trip across the Mediterranean to finally settle in Italy. Oh, and he gets his wife, and then his girlfriend killed. By the way, notice how Penelope and Circe are still alive, just saying.



This preview is an Amazon Affiliate link; 
as an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases


Wednesday, July 28, 2021

Micro Mention "Frankenstein: Prodigal Son"

Dean Koontz


I'll be the first to admit that initially, I thought "Frankenstein: Prodigal Son" by Dean Koontz sounded a bit hoaky to me—but damn it, by the end of it, I was super invested in this novel. Deucalion steals every scene he's in. I mean, how could he not?

Koontz as a writer strikes me as an incredibly talented guy, smart, and all that, but he uses that to know just what he can get away with to be commercially successful. He makes classical allusions galore—Deucalion is the son of Prometheus in Greek myth, and it's a double reference because people forget that Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein" actually has the full title of "Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus." Prodigal Son also references a biblical story, "The Prodigal Son," a parable Jesus teaches.

I feel Koontz gets unfairly compared to Stephen King, but he has his own brand of commercial genius to him that I can't help but respect. 

Also, I don't know why it's this way on audible, but I found out Kevin J. Anderson—a sci-fi author I really like—co-authored this book. I just discovered this as I'm writing this post and he's totally not credited on the cover or the by line. So this is a little mystery for me now.



This preview is an Amazon Affiliate link; 
as an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.

Author's Website: https://www.deankoontz.com/

Author's Website: https://www.wordfire.com/