I received an advance digital copy of this novel from the publisher, Dutton, via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
I picked up The Shadow of Perseus at the exact worst time. I had just finished reading Stone Blind, which is now quite possibly my favorite mythological retelling I’ve ever read, and which deals with the exact same myth. However, Heywood’s approach is as different from Haynes’ novel as two books with the same story at their core could possibly be, so I decided to go ahead and pick it up. I thought it would make for an interesting little book flight, allowing me to see the the same story from radically opposing angles. I was right, in a sense, but I found that I couldn’t help but compare the two books, to the detriment of this one.
It’s an interesting idea, rewriting a myth like that of Perseus and Medusa in a way that completely removes magic and the supernatural from every single element of the story. There is not a single fantastical element in this entire book. No gods, no magic, nothing. But, at least in my opinion, it made for a hollow retelling, especially of a story that is so heavily rooted in the fantastical. It was interesting to see how Heywood would take such solidly impossible aspects of the tale, like Perseus’s conception and the entire story of Medusa, and make them more historically plausible. But there was no joy in the reading of it.
The myth of Perseus and Medusa has always been a dark one, but it felt far darker without any divine aid or intervention upon which to place the blame for Perseus’s “heroic” actions. Which was likely the very point Heywood was seeking to make. But while I appreciate the trend of taking heroic tales and shining a harsher light on the hero and his actions, this was so extreme that I couldn’t understand how anyone suffered Perseus, much less felt anything like awe or respect or love for him. Every single one of his actions was appalling and senseless, to the point where it felt like someone needed to put him down for the sake of the world’s safety. This also resulting in the three women in his life, from whom we get the story, coming across as unreliable, unsympathetic, and weak, which I’m fairly certain was not the intent. I felt nothing for Danae, or Andromeda, or even Medusa, and I know I was meant to. But their decisions in part led to Perseus’s choices, and I couldn’t help but feel like they had asked for it in some way. Which ENRAGED me, as I would never blame a victim for their own trauma. It was this that led to my distaste for the storytelling turning into near hatred.
What kept me from giving this book a single star instead of the 2 upon which I settled was the core point Heywood sought to enforce throughout the book. Stories are powerful. The stories we weave and proclaim are what will be remembered, even if they are false. And, when those lies are the core of our own stories, we will often begin to believe they are true. Heywood demonstrated this undeniably.
While I disliked this book intensely, I can think of a lot of readers who will not share my views. Which is one of the things I love most about the book world. So if you’ve been on the hunt for a mythological retelling that strips away every ounce of the fantastic to give you a much more plausible iteration of the story, then I believe you could love this. Unfortunately, it simply wasn’t for me.