'The Odyssey's Best Character Is Also the Star of This 2018 Book Masterpiece

Image via Little, Brown and Company Published Jul 27, 2026, 11:11 PM EDT David is a Senior Editor at Collider focused primarily on Lists. His professional journey began in the mid-2010s as a Marketing specialist before embarking on his writing career in the 2020s. At Collider, David started as a Senior Writer in late 2022 and has been a Senior Editor since mid-2023. He is in charge of ideating compelling and engaging List articles by working closely with writers, both Senior and Junior, as well as other editors. Occasionally, David also reviews movies and TV shows and writes episode recaps. Currently, David is also writing his second novel, a psychological horror satire that will, hopefully, be picked up for publication sometime next year. Sign in to your Collider account Christopher Nolan's The Odyssey is breaking all kinds of records, deservedly so. The film, a retelling of the epic by the Greek poet Homer, chronicles the 20-year journey of Odysseus (Matt Damon), who spends a decade fighting in the Trojan War and another decade trying to return home to Ithaca. On his journey back, Odysseus visits the island of Aeaea, where he meets the witch Circe (Samantha Morton). Partly because of Morton's hypnotic performance, and partly because of Nolan's staging, the Circe sequence has become one of the most celebrated parts of The Odyssey, to the point where many consider her the film's best character. It makes sense that such a fascinating figure would capture our collective attention. Since time immemorial, Circe has been one of the most commanding and mesmerizing figures from Greek mythology, largely as an antagonistic figure, a seductress and betrayer prone to revenge against those who wrong her. In 2018, however, Circe received a much-needed reinterpretation courtesy of Madeline Miller, author of the beloved 2011 novel The Song of Achilles. The book, appropriately titled Circe, is a captivating character study of one of mythology's most elusive figures, both a tragedy and a bold, poetic statement on agency, autonomy, femininity, and mortality. What Is 'Circe' About? John William Waterhouse/Oldham Gallery, UK/Public Domain “When I was born, the word for what I was did not exist.” Those are the opening words of Circe, a first-person mythical fantasy tale from the perspective of the nymph Circe, daughter of the Titan Helios and the Oceanid Perse. Spanning millennia and covering the entirety of her life, the book chronicles every major event in her journey. Crucially, it reinterprets Greek mythology through a distinctly feminist approach without ever feeling too modern or anachronistic. Rather than just focusing on The Odyssey, it adapts multiple myths and features many key figures, including Jason and Medea, Daedalus and the Minotaur, Hermes, and, of course, Odysseus and his son, Telemachus. Author Madeline Miller brings a haunting, melancholy tone to her writing. Here, Circe is far from the scorned enchantress she's usually depicted as in everything from classic poetry to DC Comics. Instead, the witch is a wistful, introspective, and self-reflective figure with remarkable emotional intelligence, curiosity, and a fierce will that makes her both resourceful and empathetic. Through the book's 383 pages, we get to meet her intimately, experiencing her singular existence in careful detail and getting acquainted with her many contradictions. Circe is one of modern literature's most compassionate characters — her interaction with the tortured titan Prometheus is a vivid, sorrowful depiction of conflict, curiosity, and plain, untainted empathy. Unlike her unknowable, borderline cruel family, Circe is both entranced by and profoundly sorry for humanity. It's precisely this sentiment that makes her such an interesting figure in the context of the Greek mythological world, populated by distant, unforgiving, and brutal gods, whose concern for mortals is limited to the amount of praise garnered from them. Yet, Circe is also defined by bitterness and longing, prompting her to seek retribution against those who wrong her. In this way, she's fairly similar to Samantha Morton's take in The Odyssey: both versions use magic not as a form of punishment or cruelty, but rather to exercise some control amidst unpredictable chaos. In a way, their actions are both a form of rebellion and a way to bring balance to a world that resists it. 'Circe' Does What Many Adaptations Can't Image via Bloomsbury Publishing We live at a time when many adaptations of well-known tales miss the mark, especially those centered around villains. While many of these misguided projects try to excuse or, worse, reframe the characters' villainous deeds as misunderstood rather than outright evil, Circe contextualizes the witch's actions without forgiving them, thus allowing us to understand them fully. In doing so, Circe finds sympathy from us, if not atonement. Not that she needs it, though; Miller's Circe is certain and accountable, willing to live with the weight of her actions and never denying her nature. Yet, she also expresses deep remorse for what she (correctly) identifies as an outstanding capacity for self-destruction. This self-awareness is what makes her such a vibrant, captivating protagonist, and what ultimately makes the end of her journey feel so earned. The book's power lies entirely in its ability to convey complicated yet universal feelings with a striking, lyrical beauty. For example, Miller paints Circe's time in exile at Aeaea with a prose that feels both haunting and somber yet truthful. More than mere isolation, Circe's time on the island goes from a punishment to a source of release, the chance to find and be herself, away from expectations and burdens. Pain is always close, as is regret, but Circe learns to bear it, finding solace, purpose, and ultimately realization. Circe also shines with its emotional, romantic core. The last act of the book — the last seven chapters of the novel, to be more precise — focuses on the relationship between Circe and Telemachus, who arrives at Aeaea accompanied by his mother, Penelope, and Circe and Odysseus' son, Telegonus. The book stays fairly close to Greek mythology concerning Odysseus' ultimate fate and Telegonus' role in it. Where it soars, however, is in its depiction of the bond between Circe and Telemachus. Miller paints their love as one born out of mutual understanding and genuine interest in the other's plight rather than a mere physical attraction born out of circumstance. 'Circe' Is a Must-Read for Fans of Fantasy and Myth Traditional fantasy stories usually concern magical beings, faraway kingdoms, and grand themes concerning the hero's journey. Circe challenges these tropes by offering a quieter, more intimate, and incredibly rewarding story of introspection, self-discovery, the lie of divinity, and the power of mortality. In the process, it becomes an incredibly humane book, a text that uses the mythical and divine to make a statement on the natural and earthly. Miller offers reflections on loneliness, the weight of remorse, the changing ways of sorrow, and the power of caring, not only for others but, most crucially, for oneself. It's a book that stays with you, and one of the greatest reinterpretations of Greek mythology out there.