Book Review: Clytemnestra by Costanza Casati

Rating: 2.75 / 5

Clytemnestra is a Greek mythology retelling from the perspective of Clytemnestra, recounting her life as she grows into the “notorious” figure she’s known as today. This book attempts to dismantle the traditional perception of Clytemnestra as a cunning, power-hungry, and manipulative figure. It challenges this perception by juxtaposing her actions with those of male Greek heroes, who are often glorified despite committing similar—or even worse—atrocities, forcing readers to question why her legacy has been defined so differently. While Clytemnestra explores compelling feminist themes and reframes her story in Greek mythology, the execution felt undermined by clunky writing, lack of character development, and overall ambiguity of the story’s takeaways/messaging.

I felt this book was a good 100 pages too long, and the Trojan war didn’t even begin until 300 pages in. The pacing and length of this book seemed to me that it was due to an overuse of similes and metaphors that lacked meaningful depth and didn’t add to the story. Although I don’t mind flowery language and sometimes appreciate it when it’s written beautifully or is impactful, it felt like the metaphors here were just included for the sake of having them—they were mostly about details that weren’t important in the first place and distracted from the main point of whatever was happening in the scene. It came off as trying too hard to make things sound deep and meaningful when it didn’t need to be, and none of these words stayed with me after I had read it. 

This book also didn’t really grip me from the get go, and I believed that stemmed from the lack of a sense of intimacy with Clytemnestra. From the beginning, I never fully connected with or understood her—her emotions, motivations, and generally what was going on in her mind. Since the author had said Clytemnestra would be perfect for fans of Madeline Miller’s Circe, I often found myself comparing character development in both books. In Circe, I understood how her mind worked, her insecurities/desires, and I felt deeply connected to her, rooting for and receiving satisfying character development—it was as if we were growing with her. In contrast, Clytemnestra felt much more distant so whenever tragedies struck her life, I felt sympathy for her rather than a connection with her. Because I never developed that connection with her initially, I didn’t feel that I witnessed her growth or change emotionally throughout the story besides her just becoming angrier (justifiably so) about her circumstances.

-Spoilers Below-

Clytemnestra did raise interesting points and point out instances of discrimination particularly in how men were praised for the same actions that women were disparaged for. The clearest example of this was the juxtaposition of Clytemnestra with her husband, Agamemnon. Agamemnon is frequently regarded as a great and respected leader while Clytemnestra is seen as untrustworthy and power-hungry, despite doing a better job than him of leading Mycenae while Agamemnon is away. Throughout the book, we see Agamemnon commit atrocity after atrocity usually at his wife’s expense while everyone turns a blind eye. The second Clytemnestra decides she wants to exact her vengeance (and seek justice in her way), she is then turned into this notorious figure. When a man takes what he wants, he’s seen as strong; but when a woman does it, she’s malicious and stepping out of her place. I found this to be an interesting point in the book, but at the same time, I’m not sure if this theme really reached its peak/climax. At the end, she does just this—taking what she wants by killing Agamemnon, becoming queen, and appearing to receive support from the elders. The way the book portrays this is not really empowering but a bit more ambiguous and her ability to garner support as easily and suddenly as she did felt too convenient and unbelievable. Because of these reasons, I found that it left the book feeling anticlimactic and that it didn’t properly interrogate this topic.

Another clear theme here is vengeance and hatred—I found myself wondering at what point did Clytemnestra’s desire for vengeance begin to take over her life? After all that she’s been through, is it even possible for her to show mercy? The novel also has kind of an ambiguous take on this—in many ways, Clytemnestra’s desire for vengeance begins to hurt the people she cares about namely her daughters (ironic because these are the people she would seek vengeance for if anyone harmed them). Clytemnestra strips Electra of both a father figure, Leon, and her actual father in her pursuit for vengeance, and there are many instances where Electra feels extremely unloved by Clytemnestra even going so far as to compare her to Agamemnon. I found that because she kept being told over and over that men take what they want, she began turning into this and becoming more selfish (such as in letting Leon go without considering her children) instead of rising above it. But again, this raised the question in my head of after all the trauma she’d been through, is that even something someone is capable of? At the end of the novel, she remains queen and appears to have the respect of the elders and people, which seemed to be what she sought for from the beginning—to be able to have power and respect that traditionally only men could hold—but at the price of her children’s happiness. Because it was so unclear whether the story was celebrating or critiquing vengeance (and female rage), this story at times felt like it was having an identity crisis, and the ambiguity left me questioning what new points were actually being raised in this retelling.

Overall, I found this book to be anticlimactic with unclear messaging. I understand that vengeance in this story was ambiguous and a double-edged sword but the fact that it was so intertwined with Clytemnestra attempting to overcome obstacles as a woman (as well as acting as a representation of female empowerment) in turn made that theme feel a bit muddied as well. Additionally, I believe the author comparing Clytemnestra to Madeline Miller’s Circe unintentionally highlights areas where her own book falls short since I kept thinking about the writing/portrayal of characters in that novel, which further made this book fall flat for me.