The Outcast

Orestes #2

by Laura Gill

Seven years have passed since Orestes witnessed the savage murder of his father Agamemnon and fled for his life.

Now, aged twenty, he is ready to reclaim his birthright as king of Mycenae, and avenge his father’s murder—by killing his own mother, a crime that will label him a matricide. He will be shunned by all men, and hounded into madness by the demonic Erinyes, the relentless Daughters of Night. Orestes’ only hope of redemption lies in trial by sanity, an ordeal which will take him to the very edge of terror. Will he survive as a whole man, and receive ritual purification in order to claim his throne, or will he perish in the attempt?

Genres: Historical Fiction

239 pages, Kindle Edition

First published March 5, 2012

Reviews

[J. Andrew Brantley · Rating 4 out of 5]

“When one with honeyed words but evil mind persuades the mob, great woes befall the state.”
― Euripides, Orestes

Orestes is often an overlooked and misunderstood character in mythological reinterpretations. Laura Gill does a wonderful job bringing him and the Bronze Age Greek world he lived in to life. This second part of the trilogy, we see Orestes, no longer the fresh faced boy we knew in the first intstallment, but a solemn and strong-willed young man of twenty.

He calls together a legion of detractors who have grown weary of Clytemnestra and Aegisthus' unlawful kingship to support Orestes in his bid to rightfully become the High-King of Mycenae. Many of these would-be supporters admonish Orestes and fear the matricide that must occur for him to reclaim his throne. Orestes reassures that his plan is simple; Aegisthus will be done away with, then to ensure he will circumvent matricide, Clytemnestra will be locked in a room where she must commit suicide...except only the former is successful.

Orestes accidently murders his mother and unleashes the Erinyes' full terrorizing fury onto him. He is sent away to the temple of Apollo at Delphi in hopes that the gods will grant him absolution for his crimes. Much of the novel deals with Orestes and what we would now classify as his PTSD. There is no anachronistic methods of healing him through modern-day therapy with the priests; to avoid perdition, Orestes must face his demons head on to gain any solace or absolution, let alone be able to become king.

Later in the novel he takes to being king like a fish to water. While some men underestimate Orestes' youth and inexperience, he uses that to his advantage over them. It is doubtless that he has the makings of an excellent king...that does not mean, however that he is a man without faults. Throughout the novels, we see Orestes acting petulant and hard-headed. He (like many members of the House of Atreus) forgets an important lesson of life and politics, never use your power to settle old scores, as it will inevitably come back against you.

One aspect that left me wanting more was the absence of substantial female characters. The showdown with Clytemnestra and Aegisthus felt a bit rushed; we only deal with the Clytemnestra for a brief moment before her accidental death. Ancient Greek playwrights Sophocles, Euripides, and Aeschylus (not to mention others who have been lost to history...and probably the Alexandrian library thanks, Julius Caesar!) wrote both Elektra and Clytemnestra as strong, substantial and important characters. From my studies of Greek theatre and mythology Elektra is such an essential part of Orestian rebellion, acting as an early archetype of Lady Macbeth that I was surprised that she had little to do in the novel until the end.

As for Clytemnestra, almost ten years had past since she had seen either of her aforementioned children. Orestes does not see her as the volitile force of nature he knew her, but a demure and aged woman, bereft of her power and glory. Since her accidental death was so early on, we never know how she felt about seeing her son, let alone how her current life was life. Did she have any compunction or remorse for her past crimes? Did she realize that choosing Aegisthus meant neglecting and ultimately disowning her own children? We will never know.

And in all the time Orestes has been away, he has never been in love with another woman other than Hermione? He really only has ever had eyes for Hermione? They have not seen one another in close to 10 years, and in all that time Hermione has had two husbands, been a queen, as well as a widow. By Bronze Age standards, Hermione is practically an old maid, however, Orestes can see no other woman to marry? Even his moments with his concubine Chione were interesting, but when she begs him never to "get rid of her" once he tires of her, that was something that confused him. He did not seem to understand the huge unequal power dynamic between the two of them? He did not remember the way his mother disposed of his father's concubines after Iphigenia's sacrifice? She had them thrown from the the citadel's roof! It would have been interesting to see him have a romantic relationship with a princess (I remember reading that King Nestor of Pylos had daughters who were of marriageable age) to acclimate him in romantic dealings with a woman of his own social class, so his relationship with Hermione, which he aspires to will go smoothly.

I highly recommend this book as a second installment for this trilogy and anyone who loves reinterpretations of classic myths.

[Iset · Rating 4 out of 5]

For me the best quality of this book is its in-depth examination and portrayal of Orestes. This is a similar point to one I made in the previous book’s review, where I mentioned the promising build up both of plot and character. However, here it takes the next step and actually realises that character of Orestes as an adult pursuing his own path.

By far the hardest, but also the most thought-provoking, part of the book is Orestes grappling with the aftermath of his matricide. Here at last we delve deeper into Orestes’ inner demons, and, indeed, universal struggles of terror and conscience. The book doesn’t explicitly extend this beyond Orestes, but I think most people will recognise something of themselves in it, whether it be a moment of doubt, confusion over right and wrong in a tangled issue, self-blame versus recognising when to blame others. I think that really forms the heart of the novel more than any other plot strand. It almost feels strange that it comes so early, since we’ve been building up to Orestes’ vengeance/justice for so long that I wouldn’t have expected it to be enacted until at least the midway point. Because that comes so early, and Orestes’ mental struggles follow, I did have the slight feeling towards the end, when things come together for the protagonist, that there was nothing in the latter stages that could really live up to it or excite me in the same way. It does make me wonder if I’ll enjoy the third book as much, now that there looks to be good times ahead for a character so defined by horrific and dramatic events.

8 out of 10