Medea, Eilish Quin

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In this re-telling of one of mythology’s most infamous women Quin attempts to give Medea a story that will make at least some of her decisions understandable. Brought up on Kolchis with a mother who would rather return to the ocean than spend time with her family, a cruel father, and a sister who seems to fit much more easily into the world. Her mother keeps her at a distance, and when she discovers the cause is a gruesome glimpse into the future she wonders at her own capacity for evil.

Her father Aetes reluctantly begins to teach her Pharmakon when it seems he might not have a son to pass his knowledge to. When her brother Phaethon is born and she is told he will one day be brutally murdered she turns her attention to magic that might be able to save him. These experiments involve the murder and grisly dissection of animals, and she begins to worry at the darkness within her. As the book progresses her tolerance for murder seems to expand as she successfully uses it to get what she wants. Her mother’s prophecies often seem to lead her down a dark path but with time she turns to these actions in plots of her own devising. For the most part she does experience guilt and doubt but some of the cruelty she enacts is beyond any reasonable justification. She always holds on to the thought her father is evil and she wants nothing to do with him, but by the end she is forced to admit she is not all that different.

Her first flushes of romantic feeling are toward Phrixus, who lands in her world in a sorry state. His own experiences have taught him not to trust women and Medea is caught between desire and the realisation that women are frequently used only as far as they serve their purpose. He is, nonetheless, destined for her sister, Chalciope, with the help of some love magic, unwillingly administered, the first of Medea’s experiences with manipulating lives with her powers. This is also her first taste of the consequences of interfering with lives, and the distress it can cause to all involved.

Medea believes herself unsuited to marriage and motherhood but when her own mother tells her she must help Jason retrieve the golden fleece she realises, dispassionately, that marriage to Jason may be her and Phaethon’s ticket to freedom. She has preconceptions about what he will be like as a hero, and her role in the escape means he sees her in her worst moments early on in their relationship. These two angles repeatedly rear their heads and cause problems. Jason is ambitious and power-hungry and in trying to help him and protect their family Medea carries out more unspeakable acts. She finds ways to justify this but later, in her spite, she realises how extreme her behaviour has become, how terrible her actions have been, and she pays the ultimate price.

This is a well-written, engaging read. As someone not familiar with the mythology surrounding Medea I was able to enjoy the story with fresh eyes, not knowing what to expect. Others, I know, have found issue with some of the choices and anachronisms. For me it was an interesting examination of the role of women, family ties, and ambition. Medea is certainly a sympathetic character to begin with but as the book progresses she becomes increasingly difficult to relate to. Quin does humanise her sufficiently that her horror and grief at the consequences of her actions do hit an emotional spot, but there are many moments of dismay for the reader before this. 

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Lessons In Chemistry, Bonnie Garmus

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The year is 1961 and TV star Elizabeth Zott is balancing her responsibilities as a mother, a talented chemist, and the demands of a daily TV show. She is, we learn, perpetually depressed, and from the notes she leaves in her daughter’s lunchbox, ‘it is not your imagination, most people are awful’ we see that she treats her young child as the intelligent person she is. We learn, also, that her daughter, Madeline, is intellectually advanced for her years but is determined to hide this fact from her peers, determined to fit in as she sees what has happened to her mother as a consequence of her refusal to. Before long we have jumped back in time to see how they all arrived at this point. Elizabeth is working at the Hastings Research Institute, the only woman in a team of chemists. She soon meets her future love, Calvin Evans, the Institute’s star chemist who nobody really likes but tolerates for the funding he brings in. She is largely unimpressed with him when they first meet but they soon fall hard for each other and she comes to understand why he has isolated himself at work. Their blossoming relationship is looked on with disdain from their colleagues, jealous of her good looks and his brilliance, although some of the women in the office are pleased that she is no longer their competition. Everyone’s perception of them having an easy time of it for their natural advantages miss entirely the difficulties they have both faced. As time passes and Calvin is no longer around things become increasingly difficult for Elizabeth. Hastings try to fire her for being pregnant and unmarried (she refuses to accept their dismissal), she struggles to earn enough money to look after herself and her daughter, and her attempts to be respected for her scientific endeavours are constantly belittled, despite the fact they know her work is good, good enough to steal.

One of the main themes of the novel is the treatment of women. Elizabeth does not want to marry or become a housewife but she completely respects those who choose that life. Sadly, some of her colleagues are less understanding. Miss Frask ‘like so many other women, assumed that downgrading someone of her own sex would somehow lift her in the estimation of her male superiors.’ Elizabeth does not accept limitations either for herself or others. From the days of her PhD she has struggled to be taken seriously, and has repeatedly had to fight off unwanted approaches from male colleagues. She persists nonetheless, confident in her abilities, and even creates a lab at home when she is pushed out at Hastings. When she unexpectedly gets her own TV show she uses the opportunity to teach some chemistry through cooking, but also uses her platform to advocate for respect for the work women do in the home, and to inspire those who dream of a different life. It’s aspirational if not a little unrealistic at times.

Elizabeth feels that she has never been seen as her own person. As a child, she was seen either as the arsonist’s daughter or the sister of a suicide. Dating Calvin she worries that she is seen merely as the girlfriend of a famous chemist. Their discussions around marriage and why she doesn’t want it reveal that she doesn’t want to be even more subsumed by this. If she published under the name of Evans people would assume the work was his. When he pushes back on this she asks if he would change his name to hers, unsurprisingly he isn’t keen on the idea. 

Calvin’s story is revealed to us gradually. He reveals to Elizabeth that he was adopted and then sadly orphaned, growing up in a boys home. He has since been plagued with letters from people claiming to be long lost family members. When Madeline is set the homework of creating a family tree she begins to delve more into the life of her father. His frequent correspondence with a pen pal, the Reverend Wakeley, reveals much about his views and life choices. She attempts to track down the home he grew up in, and unwittingly opens a can of worms that is wrapped up by the end of the book. This is a book of huge coincidences, missed opportunities, and many selfish and unkind characters. The resolution may feel a little overdone, but the twists and turns will doubtless inspire strong emotions.

Many of the characters Elizabeth interacts with, especially at work, are quite contemptible, but she also finds goodness in many others. Her neighbour Harriet, although nosy, is kind and becomes a real support for her. She may not agree with all of Elizabeth’s decisions, but she helps her to achieve her goals by sharing the burden of childcare. Madeline, through the innocence of childhood seems to bring out honesty in the adults around her. She comes to know Reverend Wakeley, and he admits to her his doubts about his vocation. Even Miss Frask eventually reveals to Elizabeth her own frustrations and the traumas they share. There is a clear divide between the good and bad characters, but within that, certainly the good characters have layers.

This is an enjoyable read, and although it deals with difficult topics such as grief, sexual assault, and sexism it doesn’t feel like a heavy read. Elizabeth is a headstrong, to the point protagonist, and we’re able to see a little more of how hard she has to fight to keep going through the eyes of Madeline. Their dog, Six Thirty, makes a sympathetic narrator at times. He is kind and riddled with guilt. Always looking out for the family, his voice is a sweet addition. The many injustices Elizabeth faces will make you rage against the perpetrators, yet within a few pages you’ll be chuckling over something else. Garmus writes compelling characters with sensitivity and realism and easily keeps you turning the pages. 

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