The many, many feminist retellings of Greek myths have all started to blend into each other. What was initially exciting when I read Miller's Circe has started to become routine. I already know that there'll be a firelight on bronze, as many cameos as possible, and vague, repetitive musing on the cruelty of both 'gods' and 'men', with a profound realisation at the end that gods and men are really very similar after all. Which was why I was so excited by Phaedra's story being re-told. Phaedra is neither victim nor badass. She is the villain of her mythology, falsely accusing Hippolytus of rape. Euripedes makes her a fragile, sympathetic monster. I was really interested in how Shepperson was going to make a story about a false accusation of rape resonate in a world where the alt-right are using that same spectre to drum up anti-feminist feeling. And the beginning of the book gave me hope - when Phaedra is praying for revenge against Theseus for seducing Ariadne and killing the Minotaur, I thought Shepperson would make the false accusation Phaedra's way of getting revenge. A terrible crime, but an understandable one in a world where women can't fight back.
Instead, Shepperson just changes mythology to suit herself. Hippolytus does rape Phaedra. Her accusation is true. And the psychological complexity just collapses, along with the book.
What follows is a long, dull story of Phaedra trying to be believed, wrapped up in some dull politicising as the men of Athens try to end Theseus's new democracy. The book is full of a constant background noise of rape, as told to us and Phaedra by the 'night chorus' of women working in the palace. For the first half of the book, I thought this was to add a new, interesting moral dimension - is Phaedra betraying these women by bringing up false charges as they suffer actual violation, or is she standing up for them in some twisted, awful way? But by the end of the book, all I felt was disgusted by this constant, brutal background noise. It didn't feel like it was making a successful point. It just felt like torture to read .
Least forgivable, to me, is the way Shepperson treats Medea. Medea, my favourite character in mythology, who loves her children but hates her husband more, who commits acts which will destroy her own life because it is the only way of destroying Jason. In Shepperson's version, Medea hints that she killed her children because her husband was sexually abusing them. Another fascinating female figure of mythology is collapsed into nothing more than an abused body.
Overall, this book feels pointless. Miller's Circe and Saint's Ariadne gave depth and feeling to women who are treated as little more than plot devices in mythology. But Phaedra and Medea are all interiority, all complexity. The plays we have about them are all about watching them circle, struggle with and finally commit a terrible crime. Euripides' female choruses discuss fate and morality, argue with the main characters, grapple with events and attempt to prevent tragedy. Shepperson's night chorus exist only in broken fragments, discussing their endless victimisation. Two and a half thousand years ago, Euripides gave female characters agency and sympathy, even in the depths of their monstrous actions, leaving us with fascinating figures to wrestle with. Shepperson's 'feminist' re-telling strips away any sense of these women as characters, leaving them nothing but victims.