Being the musings of a Yorkshire lass living in the USA. I'm a book geek, bird nerd, grammar Nazi, and hockey nut. Sarcasm is my default setting.
I seem to have been on a bit of a journey through Ancient Greece lately, and I picked this up at the library to read once I'm done with Orestes.
The Bull From the Sea is the sequel to The King Must Die and picks up after Theseus defeats the Minotaur and returns to Athens. Except the silly sod 'forgets' to change the sails on his ship from black to white, meaning his father thinking him dead, promptly throws himself off a cliff.
Yeah, he's an arse.
Poor old Orestes. Talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place. Matricide is the biggest sin you can commit and condemns you to a lifetime of being pursued by the Furies until you go mad. But if you don't kill your father's murderer then you are doomed to be haunted by his shade forever. So what's a man to do?
Let's just say Clytemnestra won't be getting one of these little numbers. Sadly she's one of those characters who it's fairly impossible to make even slightly sympathetic. She's up there with Medea in the batshit crazy corner. Though what Agamemnon did was pretty unforgivable too, so I'm going to cut her a bit of slack.
I have to say I'm an absolute sucker for re-tellings of the Greek myths and legends ever since I read Roger Lancelyn Green's stuff as a child. And I would have been all over Rick Riordan's books if they had been around umpty years ago.
Other retellings I've enjoyed include,
The Firebrand - Marion Zimmer Bradley (This was always one of my favourite books about Cassandra, but I can't bear to read Bradley's stuff anymore)
The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller (a different look at Achilles and Patrocalus)
Lavinia - Ursula K Le Guin (feminist take on Lavinia, wife of Aeneas)
The Penelopiad - Margaret Atwood (another feminist take, this time on Penelope, wife of Oddyseus)
The King Must Die - Mary Renault (I still maintain Theseus is a bit of an arse)
Clytemnestra - definitely not in the running for 'Wife of the Year'.
Laura Gill's interpretations of some of the stories from Greek mythology are very entertaining. I picked up the first part of her Orestes trilogy as a Kindle daily deal, but have only just got around to reading it. And I enjoyed it so much I've bought parts two and three. (And her Twitter account written in the persona of Orestes is extremely funny.)
Somehow I don't think the Furies are going to be impressed with the 'oops, didn't mean to kill her, my sword slipped" excuse.
I normally try and stay out of politics on here, but I am so bloody proud of my Senator today.
Elizabeth Warren, you rock!
This is such a delightfully bonkers play.
Twins. Girls dressed as boys. Lovesick dukes. Sad ladies. And a wacky sub-plot involving a fake letter and a pair of cross-gartered yellow stockings. All topped off with three weddings.
Though I should confess I actually think Orsino is a bit of a douche and Viola would have been better off with Antonio.
So after all the piratical purple prose, I decided to take step back and choose an all time favourite and undoubted classic for the Twins square.
And you can't get much more classic than William Shakespeare.
I love Twelth Night. It was the first Shakspeare play I studied in detail (I was 14 at the time) and I have loved it ever since. I've seen it numerous times on stage and on screen, listened to many radio adaptations, and it never fails to entertain me.
The play opens with a shipwreck, and twins Viola and Sebastian are separated and washed ashore. Viola believing her brother is dead, dresses as a man and heads for Ilyria. Sebastian is assured by his friend Antonio that Viola survived, and they too make their way to Ilyria. This being Shakespeare, means that many misunderstandings are about to take place.
Posh pirate with a secret accidentally kidnaps naive 18-year old virgin and mayhem and purple prose ensues.
To be honest, I thought Devon and Merry were rather boring, and I was far more invested in the secondary characters such as Cat and Raven. Even the characters who had very little page time such as Merry's Aunt April, and Devon's godfather Lord Cathcart were more interesting.
If only Cat had been given his own book...
"With searing tenderness he nestled his face into the warm cloud of her kitteny softness. The gossamer texture of her curls on his lips intoxicated him; and her fragrance, the sweet-briar tang of her bath soap tinged in nectarous awakening, possessed his rocketing senses."
Kitteny softness? Seriously? I can't even.