Have you read "Circe" or "The Song of Achilles" by Madeline Miller? I just loved the former, and, this weekend, picked up the latter. Perhaps it was yet another snowy evening in Virginia that beckoned me to the Greek Islands. Or maybe it was this review by Ann Patchett: "A scholar's homage to The Iliad, a startling original work of art ... A book I could not put down".
Which is how I found myself down a Greek rabbit hole, visiting with the ancient gods, and reconsidering the muse.
I'd always pictured the classical muse as a beautiful woman of leisure, reclining on a chaise being fed grapes by a pipe playing boy with goat legs. A strapping mortal man stands nearby, absorbing her feminine glow while creating his work of genius. Seems I had this wrong. READ MORE