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Greek Trilogy
Jason
The misty, fascinating figure of Jason leaps in new dramatic life in this novel by Henry Treece - one which combines deep research into legend and atmosphere with fire and imagination of a matchless storyteller.
Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 1960
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About the author
Henry Treece
104 books37 followersHenry Treece (1911-1966) was a British poet and writer, who also worked as a teacher and editor. He wrote a range of works but is mostly remembered as a writer of children's historical novels.
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Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews
August 7, 2018
What immediately strikes me about this book is the similarities it bears with Treece’s Electra and Oedipus. As with the others, Treece alters the original myths, and not just to turn them from fantastical tale into historical fiction. Treece has a habit of altering some of the key twists which may or may not please the reader depending on whether you consider it an improvement. I have often found that Treece’s versions are still interesting, but perhaps lacking in dramatic quality in a way they would not have been if certain plot twists had been retained.
One thing that does wear thin is that in each of his Greek myth retellings Treece has had the protagonist – Electra, Oedipus, and now Jason – framing the first-person narrative in their old age. There’s nothing wrong with this literary device in itself, but when an author uses it repeatedly in books that are part of a series but each featuring a different first-person protagonist… well, it gets old.
I was also disappointed at how Treece envisioned Atalanta not as an athlete but as a ‘strumpet’ and a ‘whore’. In Mayor’s non-fiction book about the Amazons she actually spends a chapter examining Atalanta. This is one of the few times in Treece’s writing that I’ve found the sensibilities of his own time shouting louder than those of ancient Greece, and I found it jarring.
Treece’s writing style has always been his strong point, with vivid imagery and fascinating humanity of characters; if marred by the caveat of well-outdated research by this point. This was probably the book I least enjoyed out of Treece’s three Greek myth novels, however. The writing is still strong but certain tropes are beginning to wear thin, and I couldn’t generate the same interest.
6 out of 10
September 13, 2016
An enchanting little nightmare. This book stuck with me, but not in a good way. Treece offers a shockingly creative vision of Jason and Medea, brought to life through superb writing and a suspenseful plot. Reader beware: the author handles orgiastic violence about as breezily as Bob Ross paints trees.
March 13, 2021
"My pattern has been stitched by women, I fancy even more than by men. There were the girls at the village beyond the pine wood, then Perimede who called herself my mother then Hera of the Ford, then dear sweet Hypsipyle, and then Medea. . . . Do I forget the two daughters of Pelias? One with the slashed face, the other with the hanging breast . . . No, those two did not mean much to me, not even as much as that little washed-out fool Glauce, Creon’s brat, for whom I gave my dear sons and my life before all was over. Yes that is it; all my life, although I have half-feared them even while loving them, women have ruled me, have twitched my arms and legs as though I were a puppet. Only once have I acted alone and that was when I was a boy, throwing javelins on the sandy hill-side. And I killed a Spartan with one, thrown at a venture. Come to think of it, that Spartan fellow who grinned even when he was dying, could have killed me as a lad can kill a sparrow, if I had not taken him unawares. I am ashamed to remember it. All my courage has been invented later by poets—those liars—but I do not recall that Medea ever employed a poet to set down her feats."
This quote, taken from the Epilogue, really tells you all you need to know about this novel, a retelling of the legend of Jason and the Argonauts, his doomed marriage to Medea, and in parallel, a restructuring and retelling of the story of Hercules (no small task, since there are so many and often such contradictory myths about the most famous of the Greek heroes, trying to make sense of them is daunting.)
As Treece sees Jason, his story is a summary of a clash between the old, Minoan world with its goddess culture and sacred priestesses maintaining a series of pastoral rites centered around the periodic human sacrifice of a "corn king", and the Hellenes, with their patriarchal gods, who might demand less human sacrifice, but whose followers had a far greater taste for war. This is all very in vogue for the 1960s, when the novel was written, and Treece is a powerful writer who excelled at historical fiction. It should be a brilliant tale, and I really wanted to like this book. In fact, I did for the first third, until the quest for the Golden Fleece really gets rolling.
But the problem is that the novel is told in first person, from Jason's PoV, and its setting, its themes, its style make comparison to Mary Renault's monumental works on Theseus -- The King Must Die and Bull From the Sea -- written only two or three years earlier, inevitable. And against Renault, this work fails, soundly. Renault's Theseus is also arrogant, sometimes callous, sometimes selfish and cruel, yet for all of that he is both *heroic* and strangely likable -- when he fails as a person the reader is frustrated both by and for him.
In contrast, Treece's Jason is a hero a "javelin man" and an "adventurer" only because he tells us so; certainly nothing in his recounting shows him has having been anything other than both lucky and fortunate for drawing the attention of powerful women because he is tall and good-lucking. He fails at every initiative we see him attempt, and his quests succeed because of blind luck or the cunning of others, often off-camera. Caught by the man who deposed his father and whom he has spent two years preparing to murder, who first blubbers and then quickly decides he owes nothing to his parents, whom after all, he knew nothing about until meeting his mother at 16, and so allies with him. A similar thread plays out with Medea's father, the Eagle King of Colchis, and whom he both admires and then prepares to betray, and when found out by the King and Medea, is prepared to castrate himself under Medea's commands and for her amusement, rather than face being executed. Years later, when as a man now 30ish, King Jason loses an eye in battle, he begs any and all nearby to kill him so he need not endure the pain.
Now, showing that even a strong man can be undone through fear, pain, grief, etc., is certainly in keeping with Greek myth and also good storytelling, but understand: JASON NEVER ONCE SHOWS HE CAN DO ANYTHING HEROIC ACCEPT WHEN THE ODDS ARE OVERWHELMINGLY IN HIS FAVOR. As the reader comes to see this -- often as Jason is explaining how time and legend have "perverted" the truth about the other heroes of his age (ex: Atalanta, rather than being a virgin priestess of Artemis and great athlete is a sex-obsessed conniver; Theseus is a cunning, liar who lurks on the battlefield and shoots rivals in the back, so he can steal their victories as his own, etc.) -- he becomes first progressively less likable, then just tedious. Though he periodically professes love for Hippostyle and later Medea, he never really makes any effort to be reunited with them when fate intervenes, and even his "present" position as narrator: a beggar living beneath the shell of the broken and abandoned Argo, seems to be for no reason other than, when deposed in his early 30s, he simply *decides* to do nothing but beg and wander from menial position to menial position. The character is so impotent as to make Hamlet seem cursed with rash impulsiveness.
So why three stars and not two? Because Treece, damn him, can write, and there are scenes and dialogue of great power woven in this novel. More, his Hercules -- clearly mentally ill and prone to paranoid rages, promiscuously bisexual, loyal and honest yet altogether the worst friend anyone could wish upon another -- steals the book. He is a brilliant character in a way that Jason and Medea are not.
But in the end, this is Jason's story and if we cannot like Jason -- and besides perhaps Odysseus and Hector, most Greek heroes are hard for modern readers to like -- we should be able to find areas to respect him. Sadly, this Jason is a man-child whose life peaks at 17 but has the indignity to live on to be about fifty, and to inflict us with the tale of those three years.
This quote, taken from the Epilogue, really tells you all you need to know about this novel, a retelling of the legend of Jason and the Argonauts, his doomed marriage to Medea, and in parallel, a restructuring and retelling of the story of Hercules (no small task, since there are so many and often such contradictory myths about the most famous of the Greek heroes, trying to make sense of them is daunting.)
As Treece sees Jason, his story is a summary of a clash between the old, Minoan world with its goddess culture and sacred priestesses maintaining a series of pastoral rites centered around the periodic human sacrifice of a "corn king", and the Hellenes, with their patriarchal gods, who might demand less human sacrifice, but whose followers had a far greater taste for war. This is all very in vogue for the 1960s, when the novel was written, and Treece is a powerful writer who excelled at historical fiction. It should be a brilliant tale, and I really wanted to like this book. In fact, I did for the first third, until the quest for the Golden Fleece really gets rolling.
But the problem is that the novel is told in first person, from Jason's PoV, and its setting, its themes, its style make comparison to Mary Renault's monumental works on Theseus -- The King Must Die and Bull From the Sea -- written only two or three years earlier, inevitable. And against Renault, this work fails, soundly. Renault's Theseus is also arrogant, sometimes callous, sometimes selfish and cruel, yet for all of that he is both *heroic* and strangely likable -- when he fails as a person the reader is frustrated both by and for him.
In contrast, Treece's Jason is a hero a "javelin man" and an "adventurer" only because he tells us so; certainly nothing in his recounting shows him has having been anything other than both lucky and fortunate for drawing the attention of powerful women because he is tall and good-lucking. He fails at every initiative we see him attempt, and his quests succeed because of blind luck or the cunning of others, often off-camera. Caught by the man who deposed his father and whom he has spent two years preparing to murder, who first blubbers and then quickly decides he owes nothing to his parents, whom after all, he knew nothing about until meeting his mother at 16, and so allies with him. A similar thread plays out with Medea's father, the Eagle King of Colchis, and whom he both admires and then prepares to betray, and when found out by the King and Medea, is prepared to castrate himself under Medea's commands and for her amusement, rather than face being executed. Years later, when as a man now 30ish, King Jason loses an eye in battle, he begs any and all nearby to kill him so he need not endure the pain.
Now, showing that even a strong man can be undone through fear, pain, grief, etc., is certainly in keeping with Greek myth and also good storytelling, but understand: JASON NEVER ONCE SHOWS HE CAN DO ANYTHING HEROIC ACCEPT WHEN THE ODDS ARE OVERWHELMINGLY IN HIS FAVOR. As the reader comes to see this -- often as Jason is explaining how time and legend have "perverted" the truth about the other heroes of his age (ex: Atalanta, rather than being a virgin priestess of Artemis and great athlete is a sex-obsessed conniver; Theseus is a cunning, liar who lurks on the battlefield and shoots rivals in the back, so he can steal their victories as his own, etc.) -- he becomes first progressively less likable, then just tedious. Though he periodically professes love for Hippostyle and later Medea, he never really makes any effort to be reunited with them when fate intervenes, and even his "present" position as narrator: a beggar living beneath the shell of the broken and abandoned Argo, seems to be for no reason other than, when deposed in his early 30s, he simply *decides* to do nothing but beg and wander from menial position to menial position. The character is so impotent as to make Hamlet seem cursed with rash impulsiveness.
So why three stars and not two? Because Treece, damn him, can write, and there are scenes and dialogue of great power woven in this novel. More, his Hercules -- clearly mentally ill and prone to paranoid rages, promiscuously bisexual, loyal and honest yet altogether the worst friend anyone could wish upon another -- steals the book. He is a brilliant character in a way that Jason and Medea are not.
But in the end, this is Jason's story and if we cannot like Jason -- and besides perhaps Odysseus and Hector, most Greek heroes are hard for modern readers to like -- we should be able to find areas to respect him. Sadly, this Jason is a man-child whose life peaks at 17 but has the indignity to live on to be about fifty, and to inflict us with the tale of those three years.
October 4, 2023
The world's first great adventure story and travelogue is retold by Henry Treece, speaking as an old, tired, blind Jason lying under a rotting Argo waiting to die. It is imaginative and yet simple and sinister at once. The fascination this story has had over the generations for more than three thousand years BCE is because of the feat it represents in sheer navigation. Just think: a handcrafted sailing boat, in unknown waters, without a map or compass and with only vague legends of the route ahead.
Translated into modern geography, this little ship started from Iolcos (modern Thessaly, Greece) sailing close to the land past Turkey and Asia Minor right through the Bosphorus across the Black Sea to Colchis (today in eastern Georgia). There Jason collected the Fleece, and started back past the Scythian Caucasus (Southern Kazakhstan), crossed the Black Sea again to Dacia (modern Romania). There the Argo entered the Danube and followed the great river all the way along its route across Southern Europe through the Alps, entering the Rhône valley, and thence down the Italian coast into the Tyrrhenian Sea and doubling back in the Straits until the winds and storms threw it into Libya. In Africa, the Argonauts carried their ship on their shoulders across the desert until they reached the Atlas mountains (then called the end of the world), from where they were able to reach the sea. Then the Argo, once again on the sea, but with a sadly depleted crew, sailed between Sicily and the north coast of Africa until it reached Crete, then Santorini, finally limping back into Thessaly where it had started. Obviously it never sailed again.
That such a journey was made is confirmed by modern scientists. (Tim Severin actually sailed the route and wrote about it in his 1985 book, 'The Jason Voyage'). The sailors on board the Argo, or rather, Apollonius Rhodius, has the description of the journey accurate to the last detail, correctly mentioning the shoals, whirlpools and jagged rocks, and the great mountains through which they went. The little crew who remained seemed unable to translate and communicate what they had seen and experienced in terms their listeners could understand. As a result, the monsters and sirens take life and form, luckily for us, who profit from some Greek storytelling sailor's imagination. (At one point, Apollo comes to help the sailors as a pillar of fire to dissipate a dense fog. E. V. Rieu's theory is that this might have been the recently erected Lighthouse at Alexandria. The fleece itself probably also existed. It was a common practice in ancient times to pan for gold with lambs' hides in rivers known to be a runoff from mountains where gold had once been mined. Then, it was a colder world with colder seas, and the technology did not exist to hunt whales. Some of the monsters were simply that - whales or sharks. Moreover, the great Thera eruption on Santorini had taken place less than fifty years earlier, and previously open seas might have been strewn with hidden obstacles. Treece himself suggests that the Symplegades or Clashing Rocks are great icebergs.) The Argonauts see a Hunnish face for the first time in Colchis. They are impressed by their first sight of a composite bow, as well as of iron weapons.
No wonder the men who sailed on that ship were believed to be the sons of gods! More than half the crew had a divinity for a parent, and nearly all were of royal blood. Many of the sailors have their own narratives, and some, though not all, reappeared to fight for the Greeks in the Trojan war. A few of these are mentioned colourfully in 'Jason'. As a matter of fact, Jason comes off second-best when compared to Heracles, (the most intriguing aspect is the relationship between Jason and Heracles) Acastus or even Meleager. And though he enters the story at the very end, King Creon of Thebes is a powerful man by whose side Jason seems blind and puny. Theseus, who famously did not sail on the Argo, nevertheless comes in for his share in Jason's memories.
But 'Jason' isn't only about the Argo's voyage. It also describes the struggle between the cult of the Mother goddess which required the sacrifice, either of a whole man once a year or his castration if he were to live, and the emerging male dominated religion which demanded the utter subjugation of women. Everywhere the sailors land, the distinct probability of castration is ever-present and dreaded. Conversely, except for Zeus and Poseidon, the gods are helpless to protect men. Also Jason mentions at one point the general belief that when a woman is pregnant, it must be due to the Mother. Plaintively, he adds that he thought he himself had something to do with the child in his wife's womb.
The personality of Medea and the tragedy of Jason are established obviously with our sympathies for Jason, who is telling his story, not Medea's. Medea stars elsewhere. Here she is an evil, barren witch, and her personal grief has no part. The old myths are retold with amazing vigour - the death of Hylas and the grief of Herakles, for instance, but with a twist in the tale. An equal dose of danger awaits Jason on sea and land. The sea chase might be Hollywood's dream. On land there is a desert to cross, the loss of nearly a third of the crew and later the 'tests' he must yet undergo to take over the kingdom and later still, the events following on his personal domestic arrangements.
Treece does a good job of retelling the old legend in rich detail, with all the mystery of language and myth enhancing the narrative and investing the characters, real and mythical, with so much individuality so that their separate tragedies spring to life in this compelling re-creation.
Translated into modern geography, this little ship started from Iolcos (modern Thessaly, Greece) sailing close to the land past Turkey and Asia Minor right through the Bosphorus across the Black Sea to Colchis (today in eastern Georgia). There Jason collected the Fleece, and started back past the Scythian Caucasus (Southern Kazakhstan), crossed the Black Sea again to Dacia (modern Romania). There the Argo entered the Danube and followed the great river all the way along its route across Southern Europe through the Alps, entering the Rhône valley, and thence down the Italian coast into the Tyrrhenian Sea and doubling back in the Straits until the winds and storms threw it into Libya. In Africa, the Argonauts carried their ship on their shoulders across the desert until they reached the Atlas mountains (then called the end of the world), from where they were able to reach the sea. Then the Argo, once again on the sea, but with a sadly depleted crew, sailed between Sicily and the north coast of Africa until it reached Crete, then Santorini, finally limping back into Thessaly where it had started. Obviously it never sailed again.
That such a journey was made is confirmed by modern scientists. (Tim Severin actually sailed the route and wrote about it in his 1985 book, 'The Jason Voyage'). The sailors on board the Argo, or rather, Apollonius Rhodius, has the description of the journey accurate to the last detail, correctly mentioning the shoals, whirlpools and jagged rocks, and the great mountains through which they went. The little crew who remained seemed unable to translate and communicate what they had seen and experienced in terms their listeners could understand. As a result, the monsters and sirens take life and form, luckily for us, who profit from some Greek storytelling sailor's imagination. (At one point, Apollo comes to help the sailors as a pillar of fire to dissipate a dense fog. E. V. Rieu's theory is that this might have been the recently erected Lighthouse at Alexandria. The fleece itself probably also existed. It was a common practice in ancient times to pan for gold with lambs' hides in rivers known to be a runoff from mountains where gold had once been mined. Then, it was a colder world with colder seas, and the technology did not exist to hunt whales. Some of the monsters were simply that - whales or sharks. Moreover, the great Thera eruption on Santorini had taken place less than fifty years earlier, and previously open seas might have been strewn with hidden obstacles. Treece himself suggests that the Symplegades or Clashing Rocks are great icebergs.) The Argonauts see a Hunnish face for the first time in Colchis. They are impressed by their first sight of a composite bow, as well as of iron weapons.
No wonder the men who sailed on that ship were believed to be the sons of gods! More than half the crew had a divinity for a parent, and nearly all were of royal blood. Many of the sailors have their own narratives, and some, though not all, reappeared to fight for the Greeks in the Trojan war. A few of these are mentioned colourfully in 'Jason'. As a matter of fact, Jason comes off second-best when compared to Heracles, (the most intriguing aspect is the relationship between Jason and Heracles) Acastus or even Meleager. And though he enters the story at the very end, King Creon of Thebes is a powerful man by whose side Jason seems blind and puny. Theseus, who famously did not sail on the Argo, nevertheless comes in for his share in Jason's memories.
But 'Jason' isn't only about the Argo's voyage. It also describes the struggle between the cult of the Mother goddess which required the sacrifice, either of a whole man once a year or his castration if he were to live, and the emerging male dominated religion which demanded the utter subjugation of women. Everywhere the sailors land, the distinct probability of castration is ever-present and dreaded. Conversely, except for Zeus and Poseidon, the gods are helpless to protect men. Also Jason mentions at one point the general belief that when a woman is pregnant, it must be due to the Mother. Plaintively, he adds that he thought he himself had something to do with the child in his wife's womb.
The personality of Medea and the tragedy of Jason are established obviously with our sympathies for Jason, who is telling his story, not Medea's. Medea stars elsewhere. Here she is an evil, barren witch, and her personal grief has no part. The old myths are retold with amazing vigour - the death of Hylas and the grief of Herakles, for instance, but with a twist in the tale. An equal dose of danger awaits Jason on sea and land. The sea chase might be Hollywood's dream. On land there is a desert to cross, the loss of nearly a third of the crew and later the 'tests' he must yet undergo to take over the kingdom and later still, the events following on his personal domestic arrangements.
Treece does a good job of retelling the old legend in rich detail, with all the mystery of language and myth enhancing the narrative and investing the characters, real and mythical, with so much individuality so that their separate tragedies spring to life in this compelling re-creation.
April 3, 2020
This telling of Jason's life is interesting for several reasons; the historically plausible conflict between male and female dominated religions; the solid work at creating a full life for Jason that connects him to the rest of the world; the way it blends into the other contemporaneous events/myths of the time (Theseus, Heracles).
But what I liked the most was the portrayal of Heracles. Mighty Heracles steals the show in this novel. It's a miracle how perfectly he fills his diverse character. He is crazy, unpredictable, funny, loyal, crafty and insane all at the same time and believably so. What a difficult character to write, considering all the traits (and flaws) this hero possessed. He is just the sort of friend that would be terrible to have. Jason however, paled by comparison and that is where some of this book faltered for me.
Jason's arch starts as the boy running from the terrorizing of a woman-dominated tribe. It ends with him lamenting how dangerous women are, as a man whose moira was to be a puppet to their fickle machinations the world over. Frankly I don't really see how even this Jason could feel that way. There we so many times in his tale where his reactions were inexplicable, his recounting of them unconvincing and only working for the sake of the narrative. If Henry Treece has chosen to make him an unreliable narrator I still find the story of his rise and fall to be underwhelming. Some of it is the problem with the character as I currently know him from myth: Jason has never felt more heroic than "average dude" to me in any of the reading I have ever done of him, including Jason and the Golden Fleece.
The weakest element of the book was in fact Jason's own name. His very identity is confused with this business of him actually being "Diomedes" (crafty, thinker) and then later acquiring the name of Jason, (meaning healer). I can see why Treece has this element in there, to play to a theme of a anonymous man trying trying to define an identity but Treece does not develop this. There's some throwaway line early on about him being called Jason by some people for alleged healing skills but that is never explained. A quick internet search led me to this site, which I think explains why Henry Treece even bothered with the Diomedes name thing, since it seemed so hardly relevant to the story:
http://www.argonauts-book.com/jason-a...
I think it's safe to say the author was trying to cover as much material as possible for his character but it looks like the Diomedes thing is as big a false lead as it felt in the novel.
Despite the shortcomings the novel was fun to read and kept me interested to see where it would go and how it tied into the other myths of the time. I just wish Jason himself had more of a sense of agency.
But what I liked the most was the portrayal of Heracles. Mighty Heracles steals the show in this novel. It's a miracle how perfectly he fills his diverse character. He is crazy, unpredictable, funny, loyal, crafty and insane all at the same time and believably so. What a difficult character to write, considering all the traits (and flaws) this hero possessed. He is just the sort of friend that would be terrible to have. Jason however, paled by comparison and that is where some of this book faltered for me.
Jason's arch starts as the boy running from the terrorizing of a woman-dominated tribe. It ends with him lamenting how dangerous women are, as a man whose moira was to be a puppet to their fickle machinations the world over. Frankly I don't really see how even this Jason could feel that way. There we so many times in his tale where his reactions were inexplicable, his recounting of them unconvincing and only working for the sake of the narrative. If Henry Treece has chosen to make him an unreliable narrator I still find the story of his rise and fall to be underwhelming. Some of it is the problem with the character as I currently know him from myth: Jason has never felt more heroic than "average dude" to me in any of the reading I have ever done of him, including Jason and the Golden Fleece.
The weakest element of the book was in fact Jason's own name. His very identity is confused with this business of him actually being "Diomedes" (crafty, thinker) and then later acquiring the name of Jason, (meaning healer). I can see why Treece has this element in there, to play to a theme of a anonymous man trying trying to define an identity but Treece does not develop this. There's some throwaway line early on about him being called Jason by some people for alleged healing skills but that is never explained. A quick internet search led me to this site, which I think explains why Henry Treece even bothered with the Diomedes name thing, since it seemed so hardly relevant to the story:
http://www.argonauts-book.com/jason-a...
I think it's safe to say the author was trying to cover as much material as possible for his character but it looks like the Diomedes thing is as big a false lead as it felt in the novel.
Despite the shortcomings the novel was fun to read and kept me interested to see where it would go and how it tied into the other myths of the time. I just wish Jason himself had more of a sense of agency.
February 22, 2014
Henry Treece's masterpiece. In wonderful prose, he recounts the adventures and loves of the legendary Jason, making Jason and Jason's world as real as our own. Heracles, Medea, the quest for the Golden Fleece, they're all here, but presented as they have never been presented before. It's one of those novels that when you get to the end, you wish there had been more.
November 1, 2018
A classic retelling of the story of Jason and the Argonauts. The myth is reimagined as a real historical event with the characters given substance and personality in a brutal Ancient Greek world. The battles are bloody and the love affairs suitably heroic. Henry Treece has given the story rhythm and heft much in the style of Graves and Renault. A masterful piece of storytelling .
March 13, 2021
The premise of Jason is to retell Jason and the Argonauts, as a historical memoir from Jason as an old, embittered man, debunking all the "myths" and turning it in to a work of historical fiction. In this it succeeds and is quite possibly the best example in its field.
when we think of Jason we instantly think of the word "hero" - well this completely turns that on it's head. There is *nothing* whatsoever heroic about Jason-Diomedes, he is entirely reactionary, has no outstanding qualities and indeed many failings. I didn't even like him for most of the book. And that's a feat in itself - to sustain a reader's interest with unsympathetic and unlikable characters. Yet I could not put this down. I didn't like Jason, but I understood him, and his fears and motivations.
It's an excellent evocation of Bronze Age Greece. I particularly liked the way this depicts the terrifying religion of the women of Samothrace, spreading its orgiastic killing into the more civilized world - such as the women of Lemnos. The almost Wicker-Man like ceremony Jason encounters as a youth totally explains his terror of women, and fits with Ancient sources/archaeology about the castration rites of Cybele and Isis. The death of Hylas by water nymphs - immortalized by the Pre-Raphaelite painting by John Waterhouse, is given a terrifying and plausible reality here as he is a sacrifice in one of these Bacchic frenzies. The clashing rocks become icebergs, the Stymphalean birds Scythian archers, and the Golden fleece one of the many fleeces the Colcheans used to pan rivers for gold. Every aspect is plausibly explained and fits archaeological evidence. This is really well researched.
Jason, unlike the Argonautica follows our 'hero's' entire life - from conception (his mother's brief encounter with a run-away Minoan slave to death as a one-eyed beggar returning to his famous ship once more, to be felled by the prow as it is severed by lightening. an inglorious end to an inglorious beginning.
So this covers the gamut of the Jason myth-cycle including Medea and what follows. Medea is given a fascinating spin. Jason is complicit with her in the murder of Creon and Glauce - and it looks like they are to run off and live happily ever after until they are betrayed at the last by Hercules - who murders his children and runs off with Medea.
The portrayal of Hercules is one of the most interesting thing about this novel. In an odd way, this reminded me of Jack Kerouac's 'On the Road' if it were set in the Bronze age. Jason being the weak Sal under the hypnotic spell of his dark, impetuous 'twin' Hercules (Dean Moriarty). The depiction of Hercules here draws quite a bit from the Greek comedies - his 'madness' makes him gay, and certainly on the Argo he and Hylas are openly lovers, much to the disgust of the crew. However when Hercules is not 'mad' he scorns homosexuality, being disparaging about the Theban Band. He and Jason have a lengthy foursome with Pelias' two daughters and also share Medea. Although Jason is not happy with this and there's a plot where Medea & Herc seem to have plotted to kill him. How much Medea is complicit with Hercules is up to the reader to speculate. But I do find it odd that she would tend to Jason after he is blinded, make a plot to escape with him, kill the royal court and then go on to murder her children and shack up with Hercules. Was she merely overcome by a superior force?
Hypsipyle comes across as probably the most sympathetic woman in the whole novel - certainly Jason constantly refers to her as the love of his life until the end where he claims "Always it is Medea" - Yet even Hypsipyle is far from 'good' having led the massacre of the men of Lemnos at the behest of the Witches from Samothrace.
So Jason is quite misogynistic, but I think that fits with the whole unheroic nature of the novel - removing the 'glamour' with the mythical elements to make a very human tale of sex, drugs, adventure and massacre in Bronze Age Greece. As such it does a smashing job of updating the story (yet keeping the ancient world setting) and making it relevant today.
when we think of Jason we instantly think of the word "hero" - well this completely turns that on it's head. There is *nothing* whatsoever heroic about Jason-Diomedes, he is entirely reactionary, has no outstanding qualities and indeed many failings. I didn't even like him for most of the book. And that's a feat in itself - to sustain a reader's interest with unsympathetic and unlikable characters. Yet I could not put this down. I didn't like Jason, but I understood him, and his fears and motivations.
It's an excellent evocation of Bronze Age Greece. I particularly liked the way this depicts the terrifying religion of the women of Samothrace, spreading its orgiastic killing into the more civilized world - such as the women of Lemnos. The almost Wicker-Man like ceremony Jason encounters as a youth totally explains his terror of women, and fits with Ancient sources/archaeology about the castration rites of Cybele and Isis. The death of Hylas by water nymphs - immortalized by the Pre-Raphaelite painting by John Waterhouse, is given a terrifying and plausible reality here as he is a sacrifice in one of these Bacchic frenzies. The clashing rocks become icebergs, the Stymphalean birds Scythian archers, and the Golden fleece one of the many fleeces the Colcheans used to pan rivers for gold. Every aspect is plausibly explained and fits archaeological evidence. This is really well researched.
Jason, unlike the Argonautica follows our 'hero's' entire life - from conception (his mother's brief encounter with a run-away Minoan slave to death as a one-eyed beggar returning to his famous ship once more, to be felled by the prow as it is severed by lightening. an inglorious end to an inglorious beginning.
So this covers the gamut of the Jason myth-cycle including Medea and what follows. Medea is given a fascinating spin. Jason is complicit with her in the murder of Creon and Glauce - and it looks like they are to run off and live happily ever after until they are betrayed at the last by Hercules - who murders his children and runs off with Medea.
The portrayal of Hercules is one of the most interesting thing about this novel. In an odd way, this reminded me of Jack Kerouac's 'On the Road' if it were set in the Bronze age. Jason being the weak Sal under the hypnotic spell of his dark, impetuous 'twin' Hercules (Dean Moriarty). The depiction of Hercules here draws quite a bit from the Greek comedies - his 'madness' makes him gay, and certainly on the Argo he and Hylas are openly lovers, much to the disgust of the crew. However when Hercules is not 'mad' he scorns homosexuality, being disparaging about the Theban Band. He and Jason have a lengthy foursome with Pelias' two daughters and also share Medea. Although Jason is not happy with this and there's a plot where Medea & Herc seem to have plotted to kill him. How much Medea is complicit with Hercules is up to the reader to speculate. But I do find it odd that she would tend to Jason after he is blinded, make a plot to escape with him, kill the royal court and then go on to murder her children and shack up with Hercules. Was she merely overcome by a superior force?
Hypsipyle comes across as probably the most sympathetic woman in the whole novel - certainly Jason constantly refers to her as the love of his life until the end where he claims "Always it is Medea" - Yet even Hypsipyle is far from 'good' having led the massacre of the men of Lemnos at the behest of the Witches from Samothrace.
So Jason is quite misogynistic, but I think that fits with the whole unheroic nature of the novel - removing the 'glamour' with the mythical elements to make a very human tale of sex, drugs, adventure and massacre in Bronze Age Greece. As such it does a smashing job of updating the story (yet keeping the ancient world setting) and making it relevant today.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 21, 2023
I like to imagine Treece’s Mycenaean stories exist within the same universe as Mary Renault’s Theseus novels and George Shipway’s Agamemnon novels etc.
Typically for Treece this is a brooding and morose take on the myth, overly heavy on the euhemerism and always taking the shine out of the heroes and their glory and deeds. The ending is particularly gloomy. Despite this the story was a page-turner, but I now need to read something uplifting.
Typically for Treece this is a brooding and morose take on the myth, overly heavy on the euhemerism and always taking the shine out of the heroes and their glory and deeds. The ending is particularly gloomy. Despite this the story was a page-turner, but I now need to read something uplifting.
July 6, 2021
If you're expecting a novel similar to the 1963 film 'Jason and the Argonauts' I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. Treece has tried to rationalise the mythology of the story and in doing so removes the excitement and fun of the Jason myth in my opinion. Even so its not badly written, if a little dated by 2021. Its treatment of women is probably quite true to the era it's set in...!
November 4, 2023
This has dated more quickly than the Argonautica, and that was written 2300 years earlier.
The misogyny was unbearable.
The prose boring.
He stripped the story of all its magic and mythology and replaced it with ruse, to tell a tale wherein the ‘moral’ is: women are stupid.
The misogyny was unbearable.
The prose boring.
He stripped the story of all its magic and mythology and replaced it with ruse, to tell a tale wherein the ‘moral’ is: women are stupid.
Read
April 23, 2023DNF'd at 54%.
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