A new world Odyssey
Canada’s literary queen rewrites Homer from Penelope’s point of view
Quentin Mills-Fenn
A few years ago, in Edinburgh, Margaret Atwood was accosted
over breakfast.
Her assailant was a publisher named Jamie Byng, who had a
wacky venture he just had to tell her about. Byng thought
it would be a grand idea to round up several internationally
famous authors and persuade them to rewrite some myths, coming
up with their own versions of the ancient stories that still
haunt us today.
Canada’s literary grande dame was caught at her weakest
moment, she says, just before her Corn Flakes. Thus lacking
in willpower, she agreed.
And so it is that Atwood came to participate in Byng’s
Myths series with her latest book, The Penelopiad (Knopf Canada).
Another participant in the series, Jeannette Winterson, claims
that she knew immediately which myth she wanted to work with.
Her version of the story of Atlas, Weight, was published at
the same time as Atwood’s book.
Atwood had no such instant inspiration, however. She tried
several different legends, including some native American
stories, but nothing worked. She couldn’t make her characters
come alive and even thought about dropping out of the project.
Then she returned to one of her first loves: the myths of
the ancient Greeks and, in particular, the legend of Odysseus,
King of Ithaca and hero of The Odyssey, and his long-suffering
wife, Penelope.
In Atwood‚s recreation of the story, Penelope is the
central character. While her adventuring husband is off fighting
the Trojan War, she stays at home, defending her husband’s
kingdom from the ravenous suitors who eat their way through
Ithaca’s treasury. She busies herself raising their
impertinent teenage son, Telemachus; and she uses her female
slaves, her maids, to spy on her enemies.
Penelope’s cousin, the beautiful and selfish Helen of
Troy, makes several comic appearances. And then, after twenty
years of wandering, Odysseus returns to his wife and home
and there’s a reconciliation scene. Odysseus kills the
suitors who were trying to steal kingdom and, for good measure,
he ruthlessly kills Penelope’s 12 maids, for sleeping
with the enemy, so to speak.
It’s this last bit of the Odysseus story that has always
troubled Atwood.
As a writer, Atwood says, “all that concerns you is
unfinished business. I read the Odyssey when I was 15 and
the maids always bothered me. I read the Robert Graves’
translation maybe a year later. I know the material quite
well, so it was probably available to me, in a way.
“The
thing that really interested me was the Maids,” she
says. “When you examine the evidence against them, there
really wasn’t much. If Penelope didn’t like what
they were doing, she could have gotten rid of them. They were
slaves: she could have sold them.
“Even Odysseus
says they were raped by the suitors.
“All these
people — Helen and Odysseus and Telemachus — have
had a lot written about them. Odysseus especially has had
a lot dedicated to him. Without him, there couldn’t
have been a Trojan War. And, because of Odysseus, the Greeks
won the Trojan War because he came up with the idea of the
Trojan Horse.
“With Penelope, there’s some
stuff,” Atwood adds, “but in the Odyssey, she‚s
not very interesting. She goes to sleep during all the big
moments."
In the book, Atwood interrupts her telling of the story with
some choral interludes courtesy of the maids. Of course, choruses
are a prominent feature in Greek drama, but it’s unlikely
that the ancient dramatists featured sea shanties in their
work. Or an anthropology lecture.
“I enjoyed (the
choruses) a lot,” Atwood says. “We did a reading
of about a quarter of the book in London. We had three actresses
doing the maids. They sang and played their own instruments.
“And Helen was fabulous: we put her in sunglasses
and some tacky jewelry.”
“When I read from
the book, people say ‘You’re not being very kind
to Helen,’ Atwood says. “But I had a lot of fun
writing Helen. She has more fun than Penelope. She’s
willing to go to a girls’ night in Vegas. Penelope doesn’t
want to take the chance.
It’s remarkable how intimate Atwood’s knowledge
is of the figures.
“They were all related. Helen,
Agamemnon, Clytemnestra: they were all closely connected,”
Atwood says. “Think about Penelope’s family: her
father tried to throw her into the sea. Her mother was a Naiad
(a water deity} and she couldn’t have been around much.
Then she gets all this grief from her teenage son.
“We
know Odysseus must have been charming, despite his famously
short legs,” she adds. “Most of the people who
helped him in The Odyssey and The Iliad were women. He must
have had something.
“We’re told this guy
is a trickster. How do we know that what he says is true?
By their own accounts (Penelope and Odysseus) lied their heads
off.” Atwood reunites her long-separated couple but,
even though there is a strong bond between the two, Odysseus
can’t stay in the same place for too long. In the Underworld,
while Penelope thinks about her days on earth, Odysseus sets
off to join the living periodically, just like Helen and her
visits to Las Vegas.
“Even at the end of The Odyssey,
he has to set off,” Atwood says.
“It’s
a mixed ending,” she adds. “There’s a very
touching (reunion) scene in The Odyssey and a lot of people
end it there, if they’re telling the Romantic plot.
We like happy endings.
“But (Odysseus) comes and
goes. He’s a sea-farin’ man,” she laughs. |