I chose to read the Odyssey for the Classics Challenge because I didn’t get around to it in college (being a journalism major, we weren’t required to read huge Greek classics), and I’ve always wondered about this one. Now I can say that I’ve read all 24 books and 462 pages of English translation (by Robert Fitzgerald).

Some thoughts:

• It’s incredibly violent. People get eaten by the Cyclops (it drove me nuts that they spelled it Kyklops) and by someone else (when you go wandering through a forest, beware: you might get eaten!). And then there’s the huge slaughter of the suitors at the end. Not to mention killing off the women servants that helped the suitors.
• I didn’t think it was fair that Odysseus gets to sleep with everyone (Kalypso and Kirke among others) just because he’s a man, and Penelope had to stay faithful. But then, this is now and that was then. Actually, when I told hubby about how Odysseus got Kirke to change his shipmates back from pigs into humans by sleeping with her, he said, “Well. He certainly knows how to get the job done.”
• While we’re on the subject of Penelope, she spent the entire book crying or sleeping or inciting lust among the suitors. Her one claim to fame was her “trick”: saying she couldn’t get married until she finishd a death shroud, and then unweaving it every night. It went on for three years, until one of her servants gave her away. She needs get get better help.
• It was surprisingly easy to read. I’m not much for poetry, but this was more like prose in column form. Once I got used to that — and to all the names that I wasn’t even going to try to sort out — then it wasn’t hard to read at all.
• I found it interesting that the gods were so involved in Odysseus’ life. Spurring on his son, helping Penelope deal (Athena was always putting her in a deep sleep), helping Odysseus get revenge. I guess the worst thing in Greek life was to offend someone, thereby offending the gods. And I guess that’s why hanging out at Odysseus’ palace for several years eating his food (beeves, I love that word!) is worth the death sentance.
• Odysseus was too dang perfect. I never really liked him. Or cared that much for his adventures.
• I can’t say I’m going to ever read it again.

One down, four to go.

I got this book because the title makes me smile. Go ahead, say it: Frangipani. See?

This book, by Celestine Hitiura Vaite, made me smile, too. There’s really not much of a plot. It’s about a mom (Materena) in Tahiti, and her daughter Leilani. It’s about her hopes and fears for her daughter (and two sons, though she doesn’t really have many hopes for her oldest). It’s about her changing relationship with her daughter from infancy (I liked how she “welcomed the baby into her womb” and spent hours talking to her and telling her all about the world she was going to be born into.) through teenager (God help me: I’ll have four!) and into adulthood.

The picture Vaite (who herself is Taihitian) gave of Tahiti is simultaneously hopeful and depressing. Why is it that islander men are always portrayed as slackers? Are they, really? The common sense wisdom in Tahiti is not to marry a man until you’ve had at least one child with him because there’s less of a chance he’ll up and walk out on you. In fact, Materena’s man, Pito, walks out on her because she collects his pay so he won’t spent it all at the bar. And so they can have something to eat. The women are strong, though (they have to be, they say), and passionate, and wise, and, well, wonderful.

I loved the island lilt to the book (“girlfriend, eh?” “oh, bon cherie” — the French scattered throughout was fun). I loved Materena. She’s a wonderful character. I even liked Leilani, though not as much. And it had a good, satisfying ending.

A good read.