Stories also have stories. Circle's begins in the Odyssey, on the island of Aiaia that Homer dreamed for her, in the chambers of the palace where she richly entertained Odysseus and in her sty full of sailors turned pigs.
It's a pity that, after discovering this first work from Ms. Yarnall, that it seems she hasn't written anything else book-length, at least that I've been able to find. The figure of Circe (the goddess in Homer's epic Odyssey) is the feminine character that probably exerts the strongest hold on the Western imagination (possibly by way of Mesopotamia) after the biblical figures of Eve and the Virgin Mary. Mention the name to most people, and you'll get a Cliff's Notes version about how she turned a bunch of men into pigs (I think there was even a Simpsons sketch that spoofed this, with Homer as Odysseus eating his porcine friends).
The author's thesis is similar to the one put forward by Julian Jaynes in "The Bicameral Mind," and Robert Graves in his "The White Goddess." In brief, it is argued that certain divisions of mind and body (that eventually became alienating schisms) didn't exist in the time of Homer, and that the senses, the body, the soul, and the mind (if such a concept existed) were integrated and not thought of as separate. As the centuries passed, and as this supposed partitioning took place, the realm of the senses was relegated to a lower position than the mind. This morphed in modern religions (especially but not exclusively Christianity) to mean that sex (and thus women) alienated Man (and men) from the rarefied realm of the mind where he could accomplish his life's true purpose. Women were in this reading at best a distraction and at worst intentional sorceresses and willful saboteurs (in league perhaps with Satan). It was only natural that in this climate the Circe of the past time (and past mind) would be adapted by the Europeans who kept the pantheon of Greek gods alive, but relegated to the level of allegory subservient to overriding Christian doctrine. That's it in a nutshell.
Yarnall's book does an incredible job of showing how the perception of Circe changed through the centuries, and how these alterations in her depiction reflect changes in society, human perception, and aesthetics. Everything from the works of romantic poets to James Joyce's own Ulysses gets the author's diligent scrutiny in this very readable but very informative text. This ranks up there with the best works of Joseph Campbell and Robert Graves.
Judith Yarnall writes from a feminist perspective, but acknowledges her biases and interrogates them in her quest for truth throughout the book's chapters. This is not Andrea Dworkin maligning the phallocentrism (sic) of "Dracula" or a hate-fest against an ex-husband sublimated into pseudo-god-lore. "Transformations of Circe" is serious, scholarly, and entertaining, a perfect balance. It helps to have some familiarity with the main works under discussion in the book, but it's not a prerequisite. Regardless of where you are in your own studies of mythology, you will undoubtedly learn something from Yarnall's book. Highest recommendation.
Loved this! A thorough unmasking of the distortions of Homer's Circe from the past two millennia. Centuries of literature and art reveal how twisted Circe's image grew as societies throughout the Athenian Age and the Renaissance moved closer to patriarchies.
Her roots in The Odyssey show us her original role as a trusted lover, spiritual guide and mentor. Her image was used her to show the balance between the feminine and the masculine, the empowerment of sexuality in both sexes, and the necessity for equality and trust between the two. Yet through the tenacity of stereotypes, she has been corrupted by male scholars into the evil witch/prostitute, the dark sorceress, and the lustful enchantress.
Allegorists have conveniently warped the narrative to paint Circe as a figure who tempts and deflects a man from his true path, not as the one who points it out. If you’re interested in dismantling the negative image Circe has been pigeonholed into for too long, I highly suggest this book!
This was an amazing journey through the differing versions of the Circe myth beginning with Homer's Odyssey. On some level I was aware of the way in which the Circe myth (and those of other similar goddess/witch/whore characters) have served prevailing narratives. I came away from this book with a profound sadness, though. The thousands of years of slander heaped on this character (and others) as a way of justifying patriarchal power is soul-sickening.
This book is very interesting. It tracks Circe through literary history, from Homer to Spencer to Joyce and Atwood and Welty. Quite a bit of theory regarding Circe's origin -- Goddess worship, body/soul dualism. It's a facinating book.
Judith Yarnell’s Transformations of Circe traces the goddess-witch-whore who made her first known appearance in Homer’s The Odyssey throughout history, into the 1990s when this book was published, exploring the various transformations her character has undergone.
The first four chapters are dedicated to understanding Circe in the ancient world – from a retelling and analysis of her appearance in The Odyssey, to the possible sources for existence, to the role of later Greek and Roman scholars and writers in interpreting Circe. Here, she becomes an allegory for the split between body and mind. The next two chapters are dedicated to Circe in the Renaissance, notably to her role in Spenser’s Faerie Queen, before Yarnell moves onto to the seventeenth century and nineteenth century, before turning to the modern versions of Circe, from James Joyce to Eudora Welty and Margaret Atwood. Obviously, since this was published in 1994, it does not cover more recent works like Madeline Miller’s Circe.
I picked this up not only because I am interested in Circe and the way that iconic figures like her often become reinterpreted over time and transformed by individual and societal anxieties that accompany each reinterpretation, but because I was trying to discover how Circe was viewed in the Middle Ages. On the latter front, this disappointed – the medieval Circe is quickly passed over and little analysis supplied. And while I found the entire book interesting, I did find myself quibbling on a few points.
First, at the centre of Yarnell’s work is a belief that Circe represented the pre-history “Great Goddess”, i.e. the matriarchal goddess that was gradually replaced by the patriarchal gods (in Greek mythology, the Olympians headed by Zeus). This struck me as fringe theory and Yarnell never really convinces, though her analysis of Homer’s sources is intriguing. Given how little is known of the events that inspired Homer – and how The Iliad and The Odyssey themselves are rare survivals of their own time – any analysis along these lines is based on incredibly fragmentary evidence which means any conclusions or analysis must remain highly speculative. It does seem to stretch belief that Homer deliberately used Circe as a stand in for the Great Goddess giving over to the new male order, however. Perhaps this analysis would have been more convincing had Yarnell found or presented evidence for this conflict between the competing cults occurring at the same time as The Odyssey was being written, or extended this reading outside of Circe. Indeed, while Yarnell’s reading of Homer’s Circe is sympathetic and insightful, I wonder what could have been gained by exploring her in relation to Homer’s other female characters.
Secondly, Yarnell preferences Homer’s creation of Circe as the “original” version of her. It is the first surviving explicit reference to Circe, as I understand it, but whether it is the original, the very first Circe, is probably more debatable. More importantly, while there are interesting points to be made about “the original” being less sexist than subsequent reinterpretations and retellings, it seems like Yarnell sometimes is arguing that fidelity to “the original” is the ultimate arbitrator of how well Circe has been interpreted. It’s also worth mentioning that Yarnell’s idea of Homer’s Circe is coloured by her uncritical acceptance of the Great Goddess theory and her own (1990s) feminism – how she reads Homer and Circe is most likely different from how another classical scholar or another feminist would view them.
Finally, one area I felt could have been explored more is the idea of translation. I am yet to read Emily Wilson’s translation of The Odyssey (which of course post-dates Yarnell’s book by quite awhile) but Wilson has noted the ways in which the way translators “import misogynistic languages” (see her Twitter thread on the murders of the slave women here), which would be an interesting avenue to explore and underscore her argument about how reinterpretations of Circe have been more misogynistic than Homer’s, that to explore to history of Circe is to endure a “long slog” of misogyny.
The myth of Circe is used as a vehicle to carry us from the age of Homer to modern day, all the while considering our moving away from the concrete to the allegorical, from the body to the mind, the felt senses to reason, nature to man, and from unity to dualism. Through the perversion of this one myth over history we see the development and propagation of misogyny, which answers the question - how did we get here? And, perhaps, offers us a way forward.
This review is a 4 and not a 5 only because I would have enjoyed a list of 'required reading' prior to tackling this scholarly text, which would have allowed me to better understand a couple of the references.