(25/08/22)
Smell of olive grove in Ancient agora. Sun burns through my skin when I walk around Parthenon. Zeus reigns over Acropolis, his thunderbolts hitting all around me. Salty air on an uninhabited island, tame deers standing next to me. Feather of a peacock. Never-ending song of cicadas.
Greece.
That's where I read this story and it definitely enhanced the experience of both the book and the land. But I think the book would become one of my favourites even if all those Greek memories were not tied with it.
I got everything I wanted from it. Witchcraft, that made me wish for my own island full of nature and wolves as my companions. I remembered warm summer nights spent collecting fresh leaves for my tea, surrounded by the smell of mint, looking at the shining moon. Strong woman - and not just one - that isn't there only to be saved or raped, to serve or to be pretty. She can stand her own ground, defy gods and hold them off, find her own powers and come to terms with her weaknesses, protect fiercely and love deeply, but still stay herself. Beautiful prose that felt like an enchantment, which was only convenient when you're reading about a witch. Words and sentences flew by and I wished they would stop, so I don't have to finish yet. Cruel gods and doomed mortals, tragedy and sadness, but also glimmers of light and laughter and peace. Well known mythology figures that got much more human forms and were suddenly so real and alive like you really spent that time with them, talking by the hearth. And a version where a woman with powers isn't only a villain to be defeated, but someone you can admire and fall for. (Oh, and the best part - men turned into pigs, as they should be. Sorry, but not sorry.)
This story had it all for me and when I read the final few words, I wished for more, so I can stay trapped in its spell a little longer. Personally, I wish Miller would just retell the whole Greek mythology.
And now excuse me, while I look for some abandoned island where I can begin my career in witchcraft.
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