Margaret Atwood is one author whose name every Canadian child will hear about growing up; I am no exception. She is frequently touted in schools, dinner parties and every bookshop you walk into will be sure to have her books in prominent view. Probably best known for her dystopian novel The Handmaid’s Tale, Atwood’s writing has always taken on topics of complexity and import, and The Penelopiad is no different.
From the previous Canongate Myth Series novellas, I have read, I had begun to recognise a pattern. They were not, as is their most usual identifiers, simple retellings of Greek myths. The stories coming out of this series have more often than not been explorations. Just as Ali Smith took on the topic of sexuality and gender fluidity, and Jeanette Winterson tackled toxic masculinity, Atwood’s fierce sense of female justice that made The Handmaid’s Tale an anthem of the dangers of patriarchy are easy to recognise.
The Penelopiad takes the myth of Odysseus and his journey back to his homeland after the fighting in Troy for the return of Helen, from the perspective of the wife he left behind for twenty-two years, Penelope.
The novella opens in the underworld and Penelope roaming around the Fields of Asphodel. Though, in essence, a retelling of The Iliad, Atwood has been able to claim a fair amount of creative license in the novella as the story of Penelope is greatly lacking. More so than just highlighting the injustice of an unfaithful husband and the brutal presence of numerous suitors who wished nothing more from the queen than her fortune, Atwood address is focused on the injustice of the invisibility of female experience.
Indeed, in the original myth, Penelope is nothing more than a supporting character, a reward for the deceitful and conniving Odysseus, who expects everything to have remained the same in his many years away. Maybe my condescension and apparent dislike of Odysseus are unfairly biased, but it is very much drawn from Atwood’s incredibly believable portrayal of the character, which makes him seem nothing more than that self-centred and entitled man that is every woman’s nightmare.
Except in this case, he is not her nightmare, but her husband (possibly even worse). Penelope’s life in The Iliad is defined by her role as wife, mother and assumed widow. Never is she considered an individual in her own right, and when pointed out by Atwood the indignance of this, you cannot help but feel a curdle of anger begin in the pit of your stomach. What Atwood achieves in this story is providing a forgot woman and character a voice of her own. She allows Penelope to tell her own story, interject her own opinions and express her own frustration and deep sadness at the life she was forced to live in the hands of others.
The narrative Atwood constructs (including the occasional chorus of maids who were killed upon Odysseus’ return for consorting with the suitors) is one of emotion rather than event. Justice is served in the form of the written word, providing Penelope with a testimony, an account and a history to call her own. Atwood’s writing is both familiar and lamenting, casual and decidedly reactionary. It much the way only a seasoned writer can, The Penelopiad is a convincing amalgamation of story, diary, love letter and last will and testament.
Though a product of its time, The Iliad relegate women to characters with the purpose of male advancement. History has often done the same. While the story of Odysseus will never change or be forgotten, Atwood argues in this retelling of it that new perspectives can help right some of the past wrongs; that we are not required to simply live in resignation at the injustices of the past but hold the power to offer an avenue and a voice to those who have been ignored.
Maybe it is just another story, maybe it is a form of activism, or maybe I am reading too much into the novella. Whatever the answer, maybe it can be a source of inspiration that the past does not always have to hold all the authority. Penelope’s story did not finish when Odysseus’ did, so it leaves me wondering how many other heroines, wives, daughters, mothers and widows’ stories I have yet to hear.
Read the other Canongate Myth Series reviews here:
Jeanette Winterson’s Weight
Ali Smith’s Girl Meets Boy
Canongate Myth Series Introduction
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