Mariella Reynoso, Period 2, 12/19

Literature Circle - A Thousand Ships (Blog 1)

I did not enjoy the Odyssey when I read it in freshman year English class. I thought the main character, Odysseus, was insufferable. I pitied his wife and son much more than Odysseus and his crewmates, whose suffering was usually the fault of their own arrogance and stupidity. Despite my distaste for the story, I was drawn back into the lore of the Trojan War and what came after by the promises of a queer love story in The Song of Achilles and women’s perspectives in Circe and A Thousand Ships.

As I am writing this blog, I am eighty-seven percent of the way through A Thousand Ships by Natalie Haynes, a book that tells the tales of Trojan women, Greek women, Amazons, and goddesses. Some of these women are heroic; others are more villainous. Some die in battle, some die of heartbreak, and others are sacrificed or sold into slavery. Reading the stories of such a diverse group of women has made me think about the debate over strong female characters and how women should be written.

In the past, women were often written as one-dimensional characters whose stories were focused on how they impacted male characters. For example, there was the femme fatale, a seductress who caused problems for the men attracted to her, and the damsel in distress, a girl created to be saved by male heroes. Female characters were not only weak in the sense that they lacked depth, but they were also often emotionally and physically weak due to societal stereotypes.

In modern times, we’ve tried to reject these old tropes and write female heroes who fight for what they want and don’t need saving. This shift can be seen in the Disney princess franchise. We’ve moved away from Cinderella, who responded to her hardship with tears and wishful songs until she was saved by her marriage to Prince Charming. Modern princesses like Elsa and Moana and Mulan have bigger goals than love, and they reach for them with magic powers and swords, hard work and determination.

But although these new princesses are great, rejecting the old ones may not be as feminist as we think. Isn’t it victim blaming when we invalidate Cinderella for not fighting back against her step-family’s abuse? Wasn’t her ability to be kind and hopeful in the face of her struggles a form of strength? There is more than one way to be strong.

In A Thousand Ships, there are women who are physically powerful and clever, who fight for what they want regardless of the consequences. The goddesses—Athene, Aphrodite, Hera, Gaia, Themis, and Eris—all help cause the war for their own interests. There’s Hecabe and Clytemnestra, queens who take revenge on men who killed their children with trickery and murder. Penthesilea, the amazon princess, dies in battle against Achilles. Cassandra refuses Apollo’s sexual advances, despite his power and the curse she knows will follow.

But A Thousand Ships also tells the stories of women who do not have the power to take what they want, women who fight back in small ways. With the help of Chryseis, Briseis tricks Agamemnon into drinking a poisonous tea so he can’t get sexually aroused and take advantage of her. Iphigenia and Polyxena know they cannot escape being sacrificed, so they face their deaths fearlessly with their heads held high.

In some of these stories, it’s difficult to see the strength in the heroines. Besides stalling the suitors with schemes and berating Odysseus in her letters, all Penelope seems to do is wait for her prince to come home. Laodamia is consumed by her grief for her husband, the first Greek to die in the Trojan war, and she kills herself to reunite with him. While I think Penelope’s chapters could have focused more on her life during Odysseus’ absence rather than recounting his adventures, I think Laodamia’s story was written as it was meant to be. Perhaps she wasn’t strong, but how many people are in the face of grief? Her weakness does not make her a poorly written female character, and her story deserves to be told regardless of its tragedy. The purpose of this book, as Calliope puts it, is to “look upon their pain—the pain of women who have always been relegated to the edges of the story, victims of men, survivors of men, slaves of men…(Haynes).”

When it comes to the debate over how to write female characters, it is important to recognize that there are multiple ways people can be strong, but what matters most is depth. The main problem with femme fatales and damsels in distress is that they were not treated as real people; they were caricatures and plot devices used to further a man’s story. In Homer’s Iliad and the Odyssey, women are the prizes that follow a victory, obstacles in Odysseus’ path, and the reward waiting for him at the end of his journey. But in A Thousand Ships, these women finally get a voice of their own. We learn about their struggles, fears, desires, motivation, and courage, which are different for every character. All of them get the chance to have their own individual tragedy, and that’s what I’ve enjoyed most about this book. I am excited to read to the end, and see what Calliope’s final message will be.

 
Natalie Haynes. A Thousand Ships. Pan Macmillan, 2 May, 2019.