House of Names is Toibin’s retelling of the ancient Greek tale of Clytemnestra, Agamemnon, and their ill-fated children. The story is violent, vengeful and shocking – and surprisingly modern in theme and execution. Originally described in Aeschylus’ trilogy, The Oresteia, this version mostly focuses on the events of the first book, in which King Agamemnon is the main protagonist.

Agamemnon is king of the ancient city of Mycenae, but he is hungry for more power and decides to set sail for Troy. He has promised his oldest daughter Iphegeneia in marriage to Achilles – but then the gods offer him favourable winds in exchange for her sacrifice, and the wedding suddenly becomes the gruesome scene of Iphegeneia’s murder. As expected, Clytemnestra goes mad from grief at the death of her daughter and the horrific deceit of her husband. As Agamemnon embarks for Troy, Clytemnestra plans her revenge. She seduces her husband’s enemy and prisoner, Aegisthus, and together they rule Mycenae while Agamemnon is away.

Meanwhile, the remaining children, Electra and Orestes, are forgotten by Clytemnestra – she is eclipsed by her lust for bloody vengeance. And when Agamemnon does finally return, he has brought back a lover of his own. In all the confusion, Orestes is kidnapped by Aegisthus’ men so that his mother Clytemnestra will be forced to collaborate with him in her own plan. Several sections are narrated by Orestes as he eventually escapes and is exiled from Mycenae, although they are not as powerful as Clytemnestra’s first-person accounts. Back at home, Electra bides her time, steeped in cold calculation and rage at her parents’ horrible decisions.

In their tragic quest for glory and power, Toibin brings these mythical characters boldly to life. Clytemnestra especially becomes sympathetic in her grief and rage at the loss of a child and deception of a loved one. While Agamemnon kills at the behest of the gods, Clytemnestra’s murderous feelings are much more human and relatable. This retelling elevates the role of women (Clytemnestra of course, but also Electra) where they are often underrepresented in classical texts – and in contrast, Orestes and Agamemnon are relegated to the background and not even given a first-person voice. While some knowledge of Aeschylus’ original story would be helpful – especially in order to see where this strays from the original and how it fits into the larger story arc of The Oresteia – it can also be read on its own for the compelling, emotional, extreme family drama that it is.

I received this book from Scribner and NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

For having the title House of Names, this book had very little names in it. And that basically sums up my feelings of this book: full of expectations that just aren't met.

House of Names started off with a bang, as I was incredibly impressed with Tóibín's gorgeous writing. I even remember remarking to someone that I was so excited to continue this book because I just had a feeling that it was going to be amazing after I finished the first few pages. Maybe I jinxed it?

House of Names is a story inspired by the myth of Clytemnestra and Agamemnon, in which Agamemnon sacrifices their daughter Iphigenia, in order to ensure victory in war. Needless to say, Clytemnestra is not pleased. I had heard so many great things about Tóibín's writing, and everything about this book called out to me - I mean, I love my Greek myths. There were many promising aspects of this story, but a majority of this book just fell flat for me.

I'm not sure what made Tóibín take the turns he did in writing this story. What began as a vibrant, deeply emotional and captivating story somehow turned into a cold, detached, and overall uninteresting tale with characters that I could not seem care to care an ounce for. Clytemnestra began as an extremely three-dimensional sympathetic, strong character, but somehow devolved into an uninteresting two-dimensional figure that seemed to merely be used a plot device. I also don't completely understand how she turned from distraught mother into evil villain - none of it seemed to flow in an understandable manner.

Then there's Orestes, Clytemnestra and Agamemnon's only son. Almost immediately after beginning Orestes' first POV chapter, I was bored. He had such little personality and hardly ever seemed to think for himself, instead deferring to his friend Leander and his sister, Electra. I just wish I had been able to care a little bit about one of the characters, but I just couldn't.

One other area that truly bothered me was how poorly rooted this story seemed to be in Ancient Greece. There was almost no mention of Ancient Greek lands, peoples, politics - anything. If I hadn't known it was an Ancient Greek story, then I might not have even realized most of the time that this was set in that time period.

Overall, I ended up giving House of Names two-and-a-half stars. I really debated giving it three, but based on how much I struggled to get through it, the small bursts of lovely writing just couldn't make up for it.

I just could not find this retelling interesting. I know the story of Agamemnon, Clytemnestra and their children too well for me to find anything new or compelling about this one. I am sure it will do fine anyway.

On Book Riot (May 11): House of Names by Colm Tóibín: I love fairy tale and myth retellings, and this one recreates the sacrifice of Iphigenia after the gods demand she die so Agamemnon can sail his fleet to attack Troy. I just have to read about Clytemnestra’s revenge. (Egalley)

Goodreads and Amazon Review (May 14th): When Agamemnon sacrificed his daughter Iphigenia in exchange for calm waters, he unleashed a series of events stemming from grief and revenge. Despite his success in Troy, he secured his violent defeat with the murder of his eldest daughter. Of course. What did he expect?

House of Names re-imagines this story, and rotates perspectives as each player contemplates their rage, grief, and revenge--from Clytemnestra to Orestes to Electra. Toibin's strongest voice is, unsurprisingly, Clytemnestra's. Her grief and rage is the strongest, after all. The other characters fall flat in comparison, their personalities pale shadows to their mother's. They lack motivation, drive, any kind of desires. Toibin modernizes the myth by taking the gods out of it. They're mentioned, but only in terms of this being a time when the gods have passed; they no longer participate in human lives. An interesting choice, though it takes a little bit of the magic away from the story, which I think was the point. What you have left are characters delegated to the periphery of events , trying to find meaning in the absurd violence that surrounds them.

It's a good retelling, and my first book by Toibin. 3.5/5

Thanks to Netgalley and Scribner for providing me with a free copy in exchange for an honest review.

A retelling of the Greek myth of the House of Atreus: Agamemnon, heading off to fight the Trojan War, sacrifices his daughter to gain the favor of the gods. His wife Clytemnestra is understandably not happy about this, and upon Agamemnon's (eventual) return home, she murders him with the assistance of her new lover. However their other children, Orestes and Electra, decide to get revenge for their father, and Clytemnestra is murdered in her turn.

Toibin deviates little from this traditional plot; what value his retelling does have is supposedly in the language and psychological realism of the characters. Unfortunately neither worked for me. The writing is distancing, meandering, and flatly reactive. Orestes and Electra in particular are oddly passive; they spend most of the book having no idea of the politics or history around them, and their attempts to gain power or knowledge are halfhearted at best. Orestes explicitly prefers the life of an unknown farmer to that of the son of a king. Most of the actual action is kept offstage, and we're left with endless pages of characters remembering what happened, or planning for what will happen next, but never actually doing anything. It ends up feeling fanficcy – which is not a criticism I normally apply to retellings! But this really does read like a long series of cut scenes: we already know the plot, so here's some prettily written navel-gazing to fill the inbetweens. It's hard to imagine how anyone could take a story with such powerful themes of revenge and justice and guilt and familial entanglements and turn it into something boring and apathetic, but Toibin managed it. It's Greek myth with all the characters turned into phlegmatic Hamlets – not a great idea.

I love retellings, but they need to add something to the original: perhaps give it a new twist, or simply be a very well-done version of a favorite story. House of Names doesn't qualify. Your time would be better spent with any of the ancient Greek versions.

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2022822926

I am no Greek scholar and I wanted to read this book because of Colm Toibin’s ‘Brooklyn’ and his brilliant writing. However it was as far away from ‘Brooklyn’ in writing style as it was in time. I found it hard going, especially at the beginning and although I persisted and it did become more interesting, the multiple perspectives and all those long names made it feel too much like hard work. And I usually love books that make me ponder, so it wasn’t simply that it wasn’t an easy read, but that it wasn’t, in the end, a worthwhile read for me. However, it will be for other readers as I think this is a novel that will appeal to a very select readership, and that is perfectly fine.

Thank you to Netgalley and Viking for providing an advance review copy.

Colm Toíbín has written some unusual novels, and such is House of Names. It is basically the Oresteia, and we can’t expect happy endings from the Ancient Greeks.

The novel begins with Clytemnestra. On his way to the Trojan War, Clytemnestra’s husband, Agamemnon, summons her and her daughter, Iphigenia, telling her that Iphigenia is to marry Achilles. But Agamemnon is lying. Iphigenia is to be sacrificed for the cause of favorable winds that will get the soldiers across the sea to Troy.

Clytemnestra despises Agamemnon for the deception and his readiness to sacrifice their daughter. She vows to murder Agamemnon when he returns from the war. To take command of the kingdom, she allies with Aegisthus, the enemy whom Agamemnon has kept captive for years. But Clytemnestra finds that she is not in charge after all.

Orestes is a boy when Iphigenia was sacrificed, but he sees what happens to her from afar. Returning home, he is imprisoned with the country’s other boys in Clytemnestra’s attempt to intimidate the villagers. But Orestes has been taken prisoner by Aegisthus. Clytemnestra did not intend him to go with the other boys.

And then there is Electra.

Beautifully written like all of Toíbín’s work, this novel is an interesting interpretation of an old legend, based on the plays by Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripedes. It is eerie and harrowing.

Usually a big fan of Toibin, but this one just lost me. Hope that the next book will be more my style.

Another win for Toibin. Completely engrossing, stayed with me long after I finished. Cannot wait for friends to read.

Dysfunctional family...

When Agamemnon decides to sacrifice his daughter to the gods to gain their support for his war, his wife Clytemnestra plots a bloody and horrific revenge. In her grief and rage, she doesn't consider the profound effects her actions will have on her surviving children – Electra, silently watching as her mother finds herself at the mercy of her lover and fellow conspirator, Aegisthus; and young Orestes, exiled from his home and facing many dangers as he fights for survival.

This retelling of the Greek tragedy is given in three voices. Clytemnestra comes first and it's through her eyes, the eyes of a mother, that we see Agamemnon's trickery and the horror of Iphigenia's sacrifice. Tóibín shows us the full brutality of both Agamemnon's act and Clytemnestra's revenge in all their blood-soaked horror. Clytemnestra tells us what she thought, said, did, but it's in the gaps between that the reader learns how she felt – helpless in the face of a savagery she shares. Agamemnon's murder is frighteningly well done, but then Clytemnestra finds herself, not the mistress but the property of Aegisthus, a man revealed as a cold and cruel tyrant.

On the night of the murder, Orestes is kidnapped and held with the sons of other important men, all hostages to ensure their families' compliance with the new regime. After some time, Orestes falls under the influence of Leander, who persuades him to escape along with a third boy, Mitros. Orestes' section tells of the boys' lives as they find ways to survive until they reach manhood. Again, there are some scenes of brutality but there is also love in this section as the boys, isolated from their own families, create a kind of family of their own.

I found these first two sections excellent – Clytemnestra's full of bitterness and rage, Orestes' softer and quieter despite the episodes of violence. Unfortunately, after that point the book fell away for me rather. The third section is seen from Electra's point of view. Ignored by her mother and grieving her father, Electra has inherited the family desire for revenge, but somehow I didn't find this as convincing as Clytemnestra's vengefulness. And when Orestes returns as a man, I fear I found him rather pale and insipid. Tóibín's writing is always rather understated when it comes to emotions, and that usually works wonderfully for me – his descriptions of the actions and thoughts of his characters is enough to allow me to feel I understand the emotions that are driving them without Tóibín having to spell them out. And that's how I felt about Clytemnestra and the younger Orestes. But with Electra and the older Orestes, the understatement is less successful, leaving me struggling to empathise with either.

Tóibín's writing is excellent as always, especially powerful when showing the brutality in the earlier passages. But I found the latter half lacked that power and that, added to my lack of sympathy for the younger characters, meant I was left rather unmoved by their eventual fates. Of course, it's an essential read for any fan of Tóibín, and it's quite probable that my slight disappointment is largely caused by my overly high expectations. But it's not one I would recommend as an introduction to his work – for me, it doesn't quite reach the heights of many of his earlier books. 3½ stars for me, so rounded up.

NB This book was provided for review by the publisher, Scribner.

I didn’t think the day would ever come when Colm Toibin would disappoint me. I love his books. Brooklyn and Nora Webster are masterpieces of literary fiction. Even The Testament of Mary, which I wasn’t so engaged by, was at least interesting and thought-provoking. But I just don’t get this latest offering which seems to me to be simply a retelling, in a not particularly innovative or original way, of the story of The House of Atreus, told in a flat narrative style that doesn’t seem to even want to get inside the heads of the protagonists and offers the reader – or at least this reader – little to engage with. It is, of course, a timeless tale, and it’s true that Toibin’s style is always clear, concise and understated, but here it’s also detached and curiously lifeless, and I’m not quite sure what he was trying to achieve. A disappointment indeed.

3.5 stars

This is a beautifully written retelling of the House of Arteus. Clytemnestra is such a great character and the story is captivating. Unfortunately it never came alive to me and so it was a bit of a slog for me. Still anything written by this author is a pleasure.

Thanks to Net Galley and the publisher for sending a copy to review.

I couldn't finish it. I found it a bit dull, but from the glorious reviews I've read I'm in the minority!

I really don't know what to make of this book. It is a re-telling of the story of the house of Agamemnon following his return from the Trojan War. As you would expect from Colm Toibin, the prose here is lyrical and simply exquisite. He takes three different perspectives; Clytemnestra, Orestes and Electra and weaves them into a narrative thread that deals with the emotion and motivation for some horrific incidents. From the outset, we do not know in whom to place our sympathy. For me, Electra comes off as a rather unpleasant creature, Orestes seems weak-willed and easily led and Clytemnestra is by turns, the object of intense pity and a complete monster depending on the point of view. I feel that Toibin has the most to say about Orestes, which I found a little disappointing. For me, Clytemnestra is a far more interesting character and I would have liked to have seen more from her perspective. I cannot say that I enjoyed this book, but what I can say is that it is a faithful and beautiful recapturing of a much adapted story that is fresh and interesting.

House of Names is a retelling of a Greek myth surrounding Agamemnon, Iphigenia, Elektra, Clytemnestra, Orestes, and Cassandra. You can’t beat Greek mythology for good stories that teach powerful lessons. That’s why the myths endure. Colm Tóibín adds characterization and detail to this powerful story of the ultimate dysfunctional family as a father plots against a daughter, a wife against her husband, and children against their mother.

The first section is narrated by Clytemnestra, the wife of Agamemnon, who desires revenge because he sacrificed their daughter Iphigenia to placate the goddess Artemis. Tóibín portrays Clytemnestra as a woman who understands politics (she is, after all, the wife of a king), a strong woman in a male-dominated world who manipulates people and power to attain her vengeful ends.

The next section follows her son Orestes after he has been taken by the soldiers who formerly served Agamemnon. Years and a number of adventures later, Orestes is on his way home, and the focus shifts to Elektra, who has clearly learned the art of manipulation from the mother she despises. Later the perspective shifts among the three key characters.

The story addresses a number of themes, including pretense (refuse to acknowledge your crimes, and it’s like you didn’t commit them); female subjugation and empowerment; the madness that comes with power and from being abused by power; the whispers and secrets that define a government; the impossibility of trust in a family that is built on betrayal; the cruelty of expectations; the consequences of revenge; how love blossoms from need; the burden of being a father’s son; and the evil that people do in the name of serving their god(s).

The gods, in fact, have had their day by the novel’s end. Leander, who becomes Orestes’ friend and later a conqueror of sorts, announces, in reference to the gods, that “we will get nothing more from them. Their time is over.” Shedding blood to satisfy deities is in the past, Leander thinks, but killing and maiming in the name of a deity is, sadly enough, still with us. I wonder if that might have been one of the points Tóibín intended the reader to think about.

Tóibín does justice to the myth in this embroidered retelling of a classic story. It is a new version of an old tale, and some details are clearly of Tóibín’s invention. Working from the strong foundation built by the likes of Euripides and Sophocles, Tóibín relates the story in graceful language that should appeal to a modern audience. By preserving a sense of detachment, he also avoids the melodrama that could so easily mar a story of such intensity. By any standard, House of Names is a compelling work of fiction by a masterful storyteller, backed by masterful storytellers from ancient times.

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We are all hungry now. Food merely whets our appetite, it sharpens our teeth; meat makes us ravenous for more meat, as death is ravenous for more death. Murder makes us ravenous, fills the soul with satisfaction that is fierce and then luscious enough to create a taste for further satisfaction.
Drawing from Greek mythology, House of Names is a fictional re-imagining of the stories of Clytemnestra and Agamemnon and their children Iphigenia, Electra and Orestes. Deceived into joining their husband and father at the battlefront it quickly becomes clearer that Iphigenia is required for a more sinister purpose which she bravely meets head on.

I will die. It cannot be otherwise. It is not right for me to be in love with life. It is not right for any of us to be in love with life. What is a single life? There are always others. Others like us come and live. Each breath we breathe is followed by another breath, each step by another step, each word by the next one, each presence in the world by another presence. It hardly matters who must die. We will be replaced. I will give myself for the army’s sake, for my father’s sake, for my country’s sake. I will meet my own sacrifice with a smile. Victory in battle will be my victory then. The memory of my name will last longer than the lives of many men.
After the superstitious sacrifice of their eldest daughter, done with the hope that the gods will change the wind and smile upon them in battle, Agamemnon returns victorious- to a celebratory kingdom and vengeful wife.

I planned to attack my husband when he returned. I would be waiting for him, all smiles. The gurgling sound he would make when I cut his throat became my obsession.
In an attempt to secure the success of her plan, Clytemnestra enlists the help of a prisoner, Aegithus, who is known for his villainous acts. Oddly, she also delegates the task of ensuring the safety of her remaining children, Electra and the youngest and heir Orestes. Blinded by bloodthirsty rage, she lets the reigns slip and her children are quickly swept out from underneath her- Electra to the dungeons and Orestes into an epic journey towards exile. The story continues to alternate between theses three narratives and we begin to see clearly to effect of power and paranoia and the coming-of-age of Electra and Orestes in the shadow of their mother's torment.

My mother and her lover bought my silence with their threats, but they cannot control the night nor how word is spread. The night belongs to me as much as it does to Aegisthus. I can move too without making a sound. I live in the shadows. I have an intimate relationship with silence and thus I am sure when it is safe for someone to whisper.
Orestes is sheltered from the deep hatred that develops in Electra as he was sent on a miserable journey to an isolated commune for young boys. Hoping for safety, Orestes quickly realizes this encampment is anything but and forms a plan for escape with two boys from the village. His tale meanders and we are able to see the gradual change from boy to man that life and circumstance requires of him.

And there is only one, one alone, who can revenge what she did, who can revenge that killing and the other killings, and that is you. You are the one. That is why the gods have spared you and sent you back. That is why you are here, so I can tell you this. Now it is your duty as the son of Agamemnon to revenge his murder.
Full to bursting with deceit, betrayal and violence, House of Names is a tragic examination of the effects of resentment and revenge on the heart and the bonds of family and loyalty and the greater insignificance of it all.

They made their way outside and stood on the steps, taking in the dawn light, fuller now, more complete, as it always would be once the day began, no matter who came and went, or who was born, or what was forgotten or remembered. In time, what had happened would haunt no one and belong to no one, once they themselves had passed on into the darkness and into the abiding shadows.

They made their way outside and stood on the steps, taking in the dawn light, fuller now, more complete, as it always would be once the day began, no matter who came and went, or who was born, or what was forgotten or remembered. In time, what had happened would haunt no one and belong to no one, once they themselves had passed on into the darkness and into the abiding shadows.'

I approached this work of historical fiction with some curiosity. The last time that I read Colm Tóibín, I completed The Testament of Mary in one sitting. It provided an interesting perspective on an old tale and I was glad to see him return to this formula for his new book, House of Name

On this occasion, Tóibín writes about Clytemnestra and her children. Set during the time of Ancient Greece, Clytemnestra is the wife of King Agamemnon. The story largely takes place after Agamemnon's successful sacking of and return from Troy. As a big fan of that classic tale, it was great to read about the events that happened after. Tóibín excellently breaths life into a story of murder and betrayal.

Clytemnestra has three children. As the story begins, her beautiful daughter Iphigeneia is promised to the warrior demigod Achilles. Her younger sister Electra watches in the wings as Iphigeneia's proposed marriage falls through in spectacular fashion. Clytemnestra never recovers from this act of betrayal and begins to harbour vengeful ambitions. Clytemnestra's son, Orestes, is the youngest of her children and grows up amongst these plots and schemes. The story is told in four parts, giving each character a voice and perspective on the dramatic events that follow.

It is the slippery and sly prisoner, Aegisthus, who steals the show however. Initially a captive of Agamemnon, he charms his way out of his cell to rule at Clytemnestra's side.

'He knows what power is. His knowledge disturbs the air in the house.'

Aegisthus seems to have the power to bend almost everyone to his will. He charms wild birds, house servants and guards and always seems to have an army of helpers lying in the shadows awaiting his orders. For those who despise him, he also has a gentle way of keeping them under tabs.

'He has us like the eagle that captures smaller birds and bites their wings off and keeps them alive so that they will nourish it when the time is right.'

Ultimately there are no winners in a story like this. Betrayal and bloodshed light up the page of this novel as the characters scramble for power and survival. As an author reviving an old story, Tóibín is never overbearing and manages the plot with a careful pair of hands. In this way, the legend of Clytemnestra's maternal rage lives on.

Would I recommend this book to a friend?

Fan of the classic tale of Troy and Tóibín's previous novel Testament of Mary will be interested in this one. The Iliad, The Odyssey, The Aenied; Ancient Greece is famous for some of the greatest stories ever told. It is fantastic to see authors such as Tóibín keeping them alive and interesting.

Afterthought

The digital edition of this book that I received opened with a note more or less giving the entire story away. If you don't like spoilers and want to look at the story with fresh eyes, I'd skip this part.

If you have read a book written by Colm Toibin and liked his style, then this book is for you. It's a historical thriller with some romance. The author also describes issues of childrens and their mother and provides with multiple opportunities to compare issues of ancient world with contemporary one.

I joined NetGalley when I heard Colm Tóibín's "House of Names" was available. My second major was in Classical Languages (Latin & Greek) and I've got a weak spot for mythology. Unlike other retellings which co-opt old themes for a modern take, Tóibín's "House of Names" keeps the original names and plot basics. Before Agamemnon sails for Troy, he sacrifices his daughter, Iphigenia, to turn the wind in his favor. His devastated wife, Clytemnestra, plots his demise and kills him upon his return. This backdrop, which Tóibín swiftly sets up and delivers, stays true to the original but he alters the framing. The women---Clytemnestra and her daughters, Iphigenia and Electra---are in the foreground; Agamemnon and his son, Orestes, move to the back.

"House of Names" is written from three perspectives: those of Clytemnestra, Orestes, and Electra. There is some overlap between their perspectives, but each moves the story forward instead of rehashing the past. Clytemnestra's voice opens the book. Through white-hot rage and grief, she describes her husband's deception. He told her a marriage had been arranged between Iphigenia and Achilles. Clytemnestra doesn't learn that her daughter is a sacrifice, not a bride, until it's too late. I remember reading about Iphigenia as a sort of footnote to the Trojan War's beginning---her death was glossed over on the way to the main story. In Tóibín's version, it's less a kick-off event than the foundation for everything that comes after.

"House of Names" carries an emotional punch that doesn't exist in the original plays. While some passages in the source material may be moving or evocative, they don't touch the interior lives of Clytemnestra, Orestes, and Electra. Truth be told, I've never enjoyed reading plays; they seem so lifeless on the page. And what Tóibín does with Clytemnestra's internal agony and the physical nature of her grief could never be condensed into a series of monologues.

After Agamemnon's death, Clytemnestra's first-person narration switches to a close third-person voice following Orestes. Initially, Orestes' story meanders. After Clytemnestra's bombastic opening, he appears weak and malleable. If given a choice between characters to narrate the rest of the story, no one would choose Orestes over Clytemnestra and the downgrade from first to third person keeps him at a distance. Though his situation is precarious, it doesn't feel urgent. But his voice grew on me. As much as Orestes wants to join in and connect with those around him, he can't. He was young when Iphigenia was killed and he doesn't understand her death in the same way as his mother and sister; the years he spends away from home separate him from palace intrigue; and, when he does return, his status as prince divides him from the only person he trusts. He's alone and not even the reader can get close. Told any other way, his actions at the novel's close might feel uncharacteristic and gratuitous.

What ultimately elevates this book in my estimation is the way the acts of revenge that open and close the book strike such different chords. A lesser author would have put these acts in strict parallel or used cheap, emotionally manipulative tricks to set them apart. The beginning is quid-pro-quo, but the end is nuanced and unsettling. (That's as much as I can say without spoilers.) The only place "House of Names" loses a point with me is with a relationship towards the end of the book---the characters are pushed together and it feels like a bid to tidy up an otherwise messy ending.

There are some pretty big deviations from the source plays (which offer their own discrepancies), but I look at this book the way I look at any adaptation or retelling: as its own work. I don't want a carbon copy of something I've already read---I want to see something familiar through a new lens or in a new style. Taken on its own merits, "House of Names" is impossible to put down. Tóibín's prose is lyrical and often heart-wrenching. This is the best book I've read all year.

Overall: 4.9 out of 5.0 I'm not a purist, so changes from the classics don't bother me. Tóibín's language is rich and beautiful; he gives Clytemnestra a voice she doesn't have anywhere else.

Translation: Read it. Once my ARC expires, I'm going to pick up a paper copy.

NB: This book was provided for review by the publisher, Scribner (via NetGalley).

This is a subtle but supple retelling of the most famous Greek tragedy. The ‘house of names’ is the palace where the drama unfolds: names are whispered, deaths are plotted and revenge exacted. This is no stagy drama. In spare but sinewy prose Colm Toibin gives us a beautifully balanced and gripping psychological portrait of a family falling apart – misunderstandings, grief and horror are presented with an almost tangible inevitability.
We feel the horror of Clytemnestra forced by her husband's all-consuming belief in the gods to sacrifice their daughter Iphigenia so his ships will be able to sail. She obsesses about taking revenge on him, imagining 'the gurgling sound he would make .... in his throat' and plotting 'alone in silence' until she joins forces with her lover. We also see the tragedy through the eyes of her son, Orestes and daughter, Electra and witness them both planning their own revenge.
The familiar saga twists and turns creating a world of constantly changing allegiances where political figures are elevated to positions of power then just as quickly knocked down, that still resonates in today’s uncertain times. Through the steady iambic beat of the language the tension is ratchetted up until finally, with the birth of a new baby, there is release and silence. ‘In time, what had happened would haunt no one and belong to no one, once they themselves had passed on into the darkness and into the abiding shadows.’
House of Names is a story of whispers and rumours and of the ‘sickly sugary smell of death’ and underlines the enduring power of words and story-telling.