Book Review: Circe – Madeline Miller’s Spellbinding Retelling

Initial Thoughts

Greek mythology has always fascinated me, but I have always thought it would be hard to read. Trying to remember all the names of those Gods and what they were known for. But I was intrigued by Madeline Miller’s retelling of Greek mythology. Madeline Miller’s Circe felt so refreshing and was not what I expected. It took a minor character from The Odyssey, the witch who turns men into pigs, and gave her not only a voice but an entire life.

From the very first page, I was drawn into Miller’s writing. It’s lyrical without being heavy, vivid without feeling forced. The way she weaves past, present, and future together is seamless. One moment Circe is a lonely child in her father’s halls, the next she’s standing before Odysseus, and then she’s imagining what her life could become beyond the reach of Gods. It flows so naturally that I never felt lost, only carried forward.

I went in with high expectations because I loved The Song of Achilles, and Circe surpassed them.

What Is Circe All About?

“When I was born, the word for what I was did not exist.”

Circe is the daughter of Helios, the sun god, but she doesn’t belong in his world of glittering, cruel immortals. Her voice is thin, her power strange. Mocked and dismissed, she turns to witchcraft, a forbidden art that requires will, knowledge, and patience rather than divine birthright.

Her powers frighten the Gods, so Zeus banishes her to the island of Aiaia. Alone, Circe begins to shape her own world, her own identity. Mortals wash up on her shores, some as lovers, some as threats. Heroes like Odysseus, Jason, and Daedalus pass through her story, but Circe never fades into the background. She claims her space, her choices, and her future.

At its heart, this is a novel about transformation, not only the spells she casts, but the transformation of Circe herself. From overlooked daughter to feared witch, from exile to someone who defines her own life.

Circe by Madeline Miller – My Review

“Sorry you were caught, I said. Sorry that you thought I was weak, but you were wrong.”

I gave this book five stars without hesitation. Miller’s prose is gorgeous but also readable, it feels timeless, like an old myth retold around a fire, yet it’s sharp and modern too. Every sentence feels intentional.

What struck me most was the balance of intimacy and scope. This is the story of Gods and Titans, of punishments handed down by Zeus, yet it’s also deeply personal. Circe’s isolation, her longing, her resilience, it all feels so human, even though she’s immortal.

The structure stood out as well. The way Miller moved through Circe’s past, her present on Aiaia, and her glimpses of what could be ahead made the story feel expansive. Time isn’t linear in her world, but Miller handles it so effortlessly that the narrative never stumbles.

And that ending, it felt inevitable and perfect. I won’t spoil it, but it tied everything together in a way that made me close the book, sit for a while, and just think about how right it was.

What I loved most was Circe herself. She isn’t painted as flawless. She makes mistakes, lashes out, and struggles with loneliness and pride. But watching her grow into her strength, into her own kind of power, was incredibly satisfying. It’s a heroine’s journey unlike any other, and I loved every step of it.

This is one of those books that lingers. It makes you question power, choice, and the lives women carve out for themselves in a world determined to silence them.

Final Thoughts

“I thought: I cannot bear this world a moment longer. ‘Then, child, make another.’”

Circe is a story about carving out freedom, about choosing who you want to be when Gods, men, and fate all try to tell you otherwise. It’s a story about transformation, endurance, and the power of naming your own life.

For me, it was unforgettable.

I’ll be recommending Circe to anyone who loves mythology, powerful women at the center of the story, or writing that feels like both a spell and a song.