This book is essentially a memoir, narrated in first person by the Lady herself, Circe.

It's commonly refered or perhaps marketed as a retelling of Greek mythology, but thats not really an accurate description. It certainly mentions several major events like the Argonauts, the birth of the Minotaur and ofcourse, the Illiad and the Odyssey.

Most of the book is actually made up of Circe's experiences on her little island instead.

It encapsulates the feeling of living itself very well and for all her witcheries and magic, Circe is just a woman, a lonely and wonderful woman whose life teaches us all about ouselves and our relationships

The colourful cast all illustrate a different facet of human existence. Prideful Helios, Headstrong Medea, Entitled Jason, Cunning Pasiphae, Ambitious Oddyseus.

Quotes

When I was born, the name for what I was did not exist.

You cannot know how frightened gods are of pain. There is nothing more foreign to them, and so nothing they ache more deeply to see.

The thought was this: that all my life had been murk and depths, but I was not a part of that dark water. I was a creature within it.

“It is not fair,” I said. “I cannot bear it.” “Those are two different things,” my grandmother said.

That is one thing gods and mortals share: when we are young, we think ourselves the first to have each feeling in the world.

But of course I could not die. I would live on, through each scalding moment to the next. This is the grief that makes our kind choose to be stones and trees rather than flesh.

“They do not care if you are good. They barely care if you are wicked. The only thing that makes them listen is power.”

But in a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as stars once a year brush the earth. Such a constellation was he to me.

Odysseus, son of Laertes, the great traveler, prince of wiles and tricks and a thousand ways. He showed me his scars, and in return he let me pretend that I had none.

(refering her son) I would look at him and feel a love so sharp it seemed my flesh lay open. I made a list of all the things I would do for him. Scald off my skin. Tear out my eyes. Walk my feet to bones, if only he would be happy and well.

You threw me to the crows, but it turns out I prefer them to you.