This was my most anticipated book of 2018. I *loved* Song of Achilles and have been hearing early buzz about this book over the last year. It did not disappoint. This story has the same beautiful retelling of mythology, but shifting the focus to the side character of Circe. I've been recommending to everyone I know.

Growing up, I devoured as many books of Greek mythology as I could find. My copy of D’Aulaires Book Of Greek Mythology is literally falling apart due to repeated readings. Because of that, reading Circe felt like coming home. However, Miller’s stunning prose and insightful characterization elevated the familiar to the extraordinary.

As with The Song of Achilles, Miller brings her characters to vibrant life. They are not perfect, but they are perfectly flawed. Circe was such a complex character. She was strong but humble, fierce yet impetuous, and determined but lost. She was relatable at an entirely different level than most literary protagonists. Although this story has monsters, heroes, and magic, it’s ultimately about figuring out who you want to be and creating a place for yourself in the world.

While some readers may not like the slower pace of the writing, I felt liked it allowed me to truly immerse myself in the world. Miller explores a wide variety of themes in the various myths she chose to incorporate. Although they seemed a tad disjointed at first, I absolutely loved how seamlessly everything came together at the end.

Circe is one of the most beautifully written books I’ve read. If you’re looking for excellent characters, an immersive world, and remarkable prose, definitely pick this one up.

Circe is a demigod, daughter of the Sun God Helios and a water nymph. Unfortunately, her human side is prominent enough that she is considered less than her siblings and ignored by her parents. As she grows up, she discovers that she does have a power though; the power of witchcraft. After she uses it to change one of the other nymphs in her father's household into the monster Scylla, she is given a sentence of eviction and isolation on an island with no one else to talk to.

Alone on her island prison, Circe grows into her own personality. She gardens and gathers herbs and poisons and refines her spells and witchcraft. She tames the wild animals who become her friends and guardians. When she is threatened by visitors who would harm her, she uses her magic to turn those who would hurt her into animals. She is occasionally allowed to leave. She goes to her sister's household to help her deliver her child but even Circe is shocked when that baby turns out to be the Minotaur. Circe even has occasional lovers such as Daedalus and Odysseus and the god Hermes. After Odysseus' death, his wife, Penelope, and son, Telemachus, come to the island to live with Circe. She also has a son, Telegony, who she is determined to protect against all else.

Circe fights her surroundings and imprisonment over the ages to determine who she really is and which part of her, the goddess or the human, should she strive to be. Finally, love makes that decision for her and she leaves to live the life that will finally satisfy her.

Madeline Miller has made the classics the central theme of her life. Both her undergraduate and graduate degrees were in the classics and she spends her time adapting the old stories for a modern audience to great success. Her first novel, The Song Of Achilles, helped her burst into success and this newest novel continues that path. This book is recommended for readers of literary fiction.

What an absolutely lovely novel. I had forgotten most of my undergraduate education on Greek mythology, but found that it wasn’t really necessary to have a base knowledge of the Circe myth to be able to follow the narrative (however, be prepared for this book to stoke your interest in Greek myths, I went down that Wikipedia rabbit-hole numerous times throughout). For a novel that centers around gods and epic heroes, the tone is wonderfully subdued and slow-paced. The prose is gorgeous, and Miller’s Circe is so well developed she’s practically tangible. Loved it.

Madeline Miller has a beautiful way with words. Lyrical, gorgeous, flowing, I want her to write my life.

I loved this. Partly because I love Madeline Miller's writing and partly because it was so intriguing to me to get more of the story of Odysseus and his family (since I teach The Odyssey to freshman every year). The ending DID seem a bit rushed, though, so it's really closer to a 4.5 rating for me, but I'd still recommend it to anyone.

If anyone needs to look back to find out just how long men have feared strong women, one need look no farther than ancient Greece and the gods and goddesses worshipped. For every Athena, who struck fear into men and women and gods and goddesses alike, there are hundreds of minor goddesses described as lesser and therefore are considered minor to any narrative. Then there is Circe. As any good student of history and sociology knows, humans and gods fear different among all other attributes. Unfortunately, Circe is the embodiment of that fear, and her treatment at the hands of man and gods alike confirms how long men have tried to control and oppress women into minor roles.

As a mythology fan, there was no way I was going to be disappointed in Ms. Miller's retelling of Circe's famous story. However, in spite of the fact that I knew I was going to enjoy the story, I found myself utterly entranced at the world Ms. Miller created. She goes beyond the gods versus man situation. In fact, you quickly forget that Circe is a goddess given how realistic she is. Yes, she may never die and never face any sort of injury, yet her struggles are our struggles. She still faces the most brutal of crimes against women and must deal with the same shame and rage that millions of women endure every day after such attacks. She must prove herself in a world where women are minor, good for breeding and running a household. She faces abuse of every magnitude, isolation, doubt, and worst of all, indifference. She is so feared that her own father and uncle banish her to a deserted island for eternity. Her story is the blueprint for every strong woman who comes after her, just as the men who persecute her are for any man who has found a way to subjugate a woman in some fashion.

The success of Circe hinges on Ms. Miller's ability to make commonplace beings and events that were not, something at which she succeeds. She makes the mythical normal, the magic commonplace, and the extraordinary mundane. This allows us to focus less on Circe's eternal lifespan and more on her actions. I mentioned earlier that it is easy to forget she is a goddess, and this is a good thing for it allows you to become her, to experience her pain and humilation, and celebrate her triumphs. In addition, Ms. Miller puts as much effort in establishing the backdrop as she does her characters so that you get an island that you can easily visualize, feel its breezes, smell the various scents, and hear the sounds the permeate the silence. The ocean becomes something to be feared and simultaneously pitied. Her mountains are soothing friends. Circe's story is nothing without the nature aspect of it, which she uses to create her magic. Hence, the fact that nature takes on a life of its own and becomes something more than a backdrop against which the rest of the story unfolds fleshes out her story and makes it a three-dimensional one.

I knew I would enjoy it, but I tore through Circe faster than I expected. I did this not just because Circe is such a fascinating character nor solely because Ms. Miller does such a good job of bringing her to life. It is the amalgamation of everything which caused me to voraciously read this particular novel. It is the combination of Circe and her island and the writing and the gods and goddesses and heroes and monsters. It is the addition of magic and pain and power and sacrifice. It is inclusion of loss and love and fear and doubt and the human experience. That is what makes Circe such an impressive story.

I enjoyed reading Circe for the most part. I believe the book had a lot of hype and that lead to high expectations. I felt a tad bit underwhelmed in the since of plot. I am coming from a mostly fantasy and YA standpoint so that could explain my underwhelmed feeling. I do appreciate how beautiful written Circe is. It is rare to find such a book as this one. It was an entertaining read that also gave knowledge. I have found myself enjoying books more when they teach me things that I had yet to learn. I was taught so many things from Circe and that is why I really did appreciate it.

Granddaughter of Oceanus, daughter of Titan Helios and sea nymph Perseid, Circe was different from the start. While her siblings discovered their unique gifts very early on and gained their independence—either by claiming their inheritance, like Perses and Aëstes, or by marriage to a wealthy demigod, like Pasiphäe—, Circe remained among her family in the halls of the gods. Her love for young fisherman Glaucus changed everything.

Circe used a potion to transform Glaucus into a worthy suitor. Glaucus, seeing his station changed, fell in love with one Circe’s cousins, a sea nymph named Scylla. Out of jealousy, Circe put a potion on Scylla’s bath and, unintendedly, transformed her into a monster. Circe’s confession forced Helios to go to see Zeus, for witchcraft is something that gods fear can tip the balance of power. Zeus declared an eternal banishment for Circe from the halls of the gods to the island of Aiaia.

Exile was not easy but, as Circe learned, it had its advantages; being away from the scheming and plotting of her family was one of them, or so she thought, because over the centuries Olympian cousins (i.e. Hermes, Apollo and Athena) came and went. On Aiaia, Circe found her true gift; being surrounded by wild animals and exotic plants allowed her to master her craft. Then the world came calling...First, it was famed artisan Daedalus on Pasiphäe’s behalf. She was pregnant and requested Circe’s assistance to deliver what came to be known as the Minotaur. Then, it was ship after ship of desperate men who took advantage of her, some of whom she got rid of by transforming them into pigs. Then came Odysseus, whom with his blazing personality changed her life in unexpected ways.

I had a somewhat uneven experience with Circe. I read continuously and was blown away by the first half—Circe’s wide-eyed childhood among the Titans, her memory of having witnessed the whipping of Prometheus beyond recognition, her attachment to younger brother Aëstes to whom she confessed everything, her love for Glaucus that woke up emotions in her she didn’t know she had, like the jealousy that made her transform pretty Scylla into a monster; her banishment, the mastering of her craft, her liaisons with Daedalus and Hermes—who was fun to read about and delighted me to no end—her delivery of the Minotaur...
Then came the abuse and the transformations of men into pigs. That’s what after all Circe is famous for, but I found those passages tedious, maybe because Madeline Miller made a point of reminding us that all those men were the same: satisfying baseless instincts without regard for the woman who had helped them in their moments of need. Odysseus changed all that...Odysseus, to whom Hermes had confessed some of Circe’s best guarded witchcraft secrets...Odysseus, the favorite of Olympians during the Trojan War...His vivid memories of the war not only made the intervening passages between the 50% and 85% of the book come alive, but also made me want to read The Song of Achilles. Then Odysseus left and motherhood began. I found that part of the book so overwhelming that I thought a few times on abandoning this book. Seventeen years passed by between the departure of Odysseus and the arrival of Penelope on Aiaia, and I think I felt every single one of those years reading-wise. With Penelope’s arrival, I thought the book recovered the magic of the first half, or probably it was me paying closer attention by the end.

I have to say that Circe is a book that should be read with as little interruptions as possible, because it is a very literary novel, full of beautiful imagery that is hard to visualize effectively when you abandon a passage midway. Circe requires full immersion, but it pays off in the end. Despite some misgivings, I thought this novel was very good overall, and made want to follow Madeline Miller’s career further. I’ll be starting with The Song of Achilles and can hardly wait for what she writes next.

Disclaimer: I received from the publisher a free e-galley of this book via Netgalley in exchange for my honest review.

This is Greek mythology told from the point of view of Circe, daughter of Helios god of the sun and the strongest of the remaining Titans. It's been a long time since I read any of these myths so I used Wikipedia to refresh my memory about the Titans and their successors the Olympians and particularly about Circe. Circe was not a god but she learned the practice of witchcraft and dared to use it in ways that angered Zeus. For that, she was exiled to the deserted island of Aiaia.

Although Circe was exiled, she was not alone on Aiaia. She tamed the lions and other wild beasts that lived there and, since there were no restrictions on other people coming to the island, she was visited by both gods and humans (some of whom she turned into pigs, for reasons that I won't reveal). For a while, the island also became a dumping ground for the misbehaving daughters of gods.

I always liked Greek mythology, with its impetuous, jealous and bloodthirsty schemers, and this book had all of that. In addition to Helios and Zeus, characters included Odysseus, Minos, the Minotaur, Daedalus and Scylla, among others. Circe was strong and independent, with a few lapses in judgment which she regretted. The author followed the myths pretty closely and she writes beautifully. This was a very enjoyable book. The narration by Perdita Weeks of the audiobook was also excellent.

I received a free copy of this book from the publisher.

I ended up not downloading this file from Netgalley because I got a hardcopy of it but man! What a great novel! Anyone with even the remotest interest in mythology must get a copy for their own collection. Miller's prose is gorgeous and lyrical and I already want to read it again.

Fabulous storytelling. I read the stories of the Greek gods as a child and was facts instead by them. Miller’s writing is wonderful. Her characters come alive. Highly recommended for fans of literary fiction or the Greek gods.

This book was excellent, but should be noted that there are some triggers that might cause readers distress. 5/5! Excellent character development and good pacing.

I want to be a Greek Goddess now! I loved this book, and learned so much about the Greek gods. It was also so bizarre at times that I had to keep reminding myself the narrative was based on Greek mythology and not the result of the author having a bad drug trip (kidding, but seriously, the bull baby scene?!?! Lawd!)....  I only knew the main characters going into this story, (e.g. Zeus, Athena) so I was excited to read and learn more about the others. 
Circe's stubbornness was infuriating, to a fault.  But in the end, she prevails and all is good.  (I mean, did you really doubt that she would triumph? C'mon man.)  I loved going on Circe's journey and her struggles with trust, as frustrating as they were.  How could you not love her but want to punch her at the same time?  She desperately wanted to be accepted, but yet this was her downfall in most situations. I highly recommend this book, it was a quick read for me despite the length, and I thoroughly enjoyed it!

Circe is definitely a fabulous book! Spellbinding storytelling about the ancient Greek myth of Circe and Odysseus.
It’s mythology revisited with a strong female narrative and a exploration of what motivates gods and mortals. I found the backstory somewhat slower paced but still compelling for what made Circe who she becomes later in life. I loved the way Miller interweaves myths and heroes and heroines into Circe’s life. I have a strong background in mythology but I believe even someone who doesn’t will enjoy the adventures and suspense of what Circe will discover and how she embraces her story, and takes charge of her life. Phenomenal storytelling!!

“When I was born, the name for what I was did not exist.” Thus begins Circe’s self-told tale, and the yet-to-be-invented descriptor she references here is “witch,” though it could just as easily, and perhaps more significantly for this story, be “independent woman,” since both concepts, it turns out, are equally confounding to Titan, Olympian, and mortal alike, much to the reader’s satisfaction.

Beyond that bedeviling of the uber-powerful, there’s a lot that satisfies (and more) here: Miller’s lovely prose, how she stays faithful to the myths but fills the spaces between them with a rich originality, the manner in which the tale creates tension despite the fact we know how many of its parts end, the many times we dip into and out of storytelling as we hear of Theseus and the Minotaur or Achilles and Hector, and the way the familiar is constantly being told slant, challenging millennia of storytelling where “humbling woman seems a chief pastime of poets.”

One such poet — Homer — grants Circe a mere handful of lines, making her a literal detour on a great hero’s adventures. But hers is the voice here, and that great hero, important as he is in this story, doesn’t even appear until a little past the halfway point; this time he is merely a waypoint on Circe’s journey toward her own destiny.

It’s a long journey, given that she is an immortal, and it begins in the halls of her father, the sun god Helios, where she witnesses the torture of Prometheus (before the cliff and eagle), who becomes a sort of standard by which she measures her choices. The rest of her days if she’s lucky she’s merely ignored; otherwise she suffers the daily taunts of her sister Pasiphae, the other nymphs, and both her parents. Her only refuge is her brother Aeetes, but after Pasiphae is married off to Minos and heads off to Crete, (where she’ll birth the Minotaur), Aeetes abruptly departs to found his kingdom of Colchis (where he will hoard the Golden Fleece and father Medea). Alone, Circe meets a mortal fisherman, Glaucos, and the two eventually become lovers, which is how Circe comes into her power as a witch (all her mother’s children are witches). Seeking to make him immoral so they can be together, she successfully transforms him into a sea god, but this only makes him see “dull” Circe as beneath him. When he turns his eye to Scylla, a beautiful but cruel nymph, Circe uses her magic again, this time turning Scylla into the six-headed sea monster most of us know her as. For this she is banished to the lonely, uninhabited island of Aiaia, where she begins the second part of her life.

Her isolation is broken over the centuries by visits from Hermes, a ship from her sister (captained by Daedalus) to bring her to Crete to assist in the birthing of the minotaur, meetings with Medea and Jason and her brother, and, most personally tragically, a landing of lost seafarers that ends in rape, something well foreshadowed throughout the novel in the many ways females are casually and cruelly treated, as when Circe complains to Hermes about wayward nymphs being sent by their fathers to her island, and he suggests she “take them to your bed”:

“That is absurd,” I said. “They would run screaming.”
“Nymphs always do,” he said. “But I’ll tell you a secret; they are terrible at getting away.”

After the rape, Circe turns coldly lethal. Instead of cloaking her island from sailors, something she readily admits she could have done easily, she allows them to land, replaying the same scene again and again (“They all had the same desperate story . . . There was always a leader . . . The bench would scrape and he would stand. The men watched . . . They wanted the freeze, the flinch, the begging . . . ). Now though, the scene has a different ending: “It was my favorite moment, seeing them frown and try to understand why I wasn’t afraid . . . Then I plucked them. Their backs bent . . . they thrashed . . . Their screams broke into squeals.”

Eventually of course Odysseus does show up, and Circe’s life takes another turn as the two becomes lovers, but in a complicated, adult fashion — not a swooning “love-of-the-dashing-hero” but one where she is well aware of his flaws and meets him as peer or more, god to mortal. Though of course, she bitingly reports, the later stories will have none of that: “I was not surprised by the portrait of myself: the proud witch undone before the hero’s sword, kneeling and begging for mercy. Humbling women seems to me to be a chief pastime of poets. As if there can be no story unless we crawl and weep.”

As he must, Odysseus is eventually on his way to his own story, but Circe’s continues, though I’ll leave the rest of it, perfectly set up and perfectly closed out, for the reader to enjoy. Circe is beautifully written, impeccably structured, thematically tight, but what carries the novel is Circe’s voice: one that is at turns elegiac, reflective, bitter, sharply funny, regretful, joyful, but always real. “The goddess with the voice of a human” indeed.

Circe was amazing. This is my first novel by Miller, and I was blown away by her writing style and ability to revitalize & humanize characters in a unique way. I would definitely recommend this to any and everyone. It helps to be a mythology fan, but I don't think you absolutely need the background knowledge You do not need to read the Song of Achilles to read Circe.
***Thanks to the publisher, and author and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review***

Ooh this was such an excellent, immersive, enjoyable read. I am not well versed in Greek myth, nor have I read The Odyssey, so I am probably missing quite a lot of clever references and twists. However, I found the commentaries that Miller returns to throughout Circe quite compelling, particularly her focus on Circe's lack of desire for her divinity and her consideration of immortality as a curse. The nuance Miller provides in depicting the complexities of divinity versus mortality, and of the relationship between humans and gods, is definitely one of the best aspects of the novel. I particularly liked her characterization of the corrupt and inhumane nature of Gods, how their demands to be honoured and the conditions under which they create this worship and dependency on them are often exceptionally cruel.

I also quite enjoyed her twist on the reason as to why Circe began changing men that arrive on her island into pigs. The book overall has some fascinating remarks on monstrosity, particularly female monstrosity, and how myths often overlook or carefully veil the reasons as to why this monstrosity developed in the first pace, perhaps often as a result of violent misogyny and plunder.

There is a rich, atmospheric quality to the narrative, and I enjoyed inhabiting Circe's world on a gorgeously described Mediterranean island. Miller's prose is both meticulous and beautiful, although it does tend to become somewhat frustrating. It, at times, becomes too flowery; her excessive employment of similes becomes both repetitive and almost non-sensical, and there are a lot of comparisons that make little sense as far as I'm concerned except to show off a particularly stylistic quality of writing. I understand that this novel is already as unrealistic as it gets given that it is an adaptation of a myth, but these tendencies were often exceptionally out of place in the characters' dialogue, and let's be honest, nobody talks like that.

Overall, though, I would highly recommend this book, especially as the weather gets warmer. It's been so long since I've read The Song of Achilles that I remember so little of it, but perhaps it's time to return to it.

Bold imaginative retelling of the Godess Circe daughter of Helios. She is so multi faceted . the world Madeline Miller describes is rich in detail and the characters are relatable flaws and all. The myth reinterpretation and the writing are beyond brilliant . You will be pulled into this world from the first sentence . Beautiful ,bold ,fabulous book

My mythology background is pretty much non-existent. I didn't pay close enough attention in high school when we read The Odyssey and The Iliad. So after I heard the raving reviews about Circe, I instantly knew I had to read it. My need for learning mythology is growing and I was so drawn into the themes of witchcraft in this gorgeous book.

Circe is a very character driven book. It begins with Circe growing up in Oceanus with her father, the sun god Helios, her cold-hearted nymph mother Perse, and her siblings: Pasiphaë, Perses, and Aeëtes. The story follows Circe's relationships with her harsh family, who believe she is ugly and worthless. She only forms a close bond with Aeëtes, but once he moves away, she is all alone. After Circe casts spells that backfire, Zeus exiles her to the island of Aiaia.

Circe's life unfolds before us as she lives her eternal days alone on the island. There she hones her craft; perfecting spells, potions, and tonics. She encounters shipwrecked sailors and is visited by several gods from mythos: Hermes, Athena, Daedalus, and Odysseus.

Other than the insanely beautiful and lyrical writing, I was so pleased to get to read about the other gods as well. We get little glimpses of the rest of the Titans and Olympians. Odysseus and Daedalus play a major role, but we also get to witness the birth of Pasiphaë's son, the infamous Minotaur, Scylla the six-headed sea monster, Medea, and Icarus.

There are also some very rough topics such as rape and abuse. And while those were very hard parts to read, this book is also powerful, feminist, and full of hope. It showcases the love a mother has for a child, how we are not our parents' mistakes, and how we can carve our own paths. This beautiful, epic story had me so hungry to continue my journey into the world of mythos, and I hope you enjoy this book, too!