It's interesting to read more about her, and get the picture of a much more complex and powerful woman (Melissa U). After Helen was taken from Sparta to Troy, her husband, Menelaus, asked his brother Agamemnon for help.

Clytemnestra is immediately established as a compelling heroine, as despite her perspective on events being way off center from the usual narrative of the Iliad. And the story of her parents are very important to the girl, her heritage, reminding her forever of where she came from and what she carries in her veins, not just the royalty, but the strength, endurance, and fortitude to be great, the greatest of all others. The novel’s time jumps and side characters, while faithful to the original Greek myths, ultimately make the story feel clunky. This book does a fabulous job of taking the reader to the time and place and bringing all the stories alive.The narrative follows Clytemnestra from her early life as a Princess of Sparta, her relationship with her siblings, her subsequent marriage to her first husband and the tragic events that lead to her marriage to Agamemnon and her life as his wife and mother to his children and the events that follow. This is a woman who was prepared to wait to get even; she could have created the phrase that revenge is a dish best served cold. A Greek mythology retelling that puts a wronged, powerful woman hell-bent on revenge at centre stage? She murders Agamemnon to avenge the death of their daughter, Iphigenia, whom Agamemnon sacrificed during the Trojan War to ensure his fleet’s passage into Troy.

A breathtaking story of love and vengeance through the eyes of ancient Greece’s most notorious heroine. Many times I found myself thinking that if I was in the same position as Clytemnestra, free of punishment for my actions, I would do the same if forced to be in Clytemnestra's position.Clytemnestra is the perfect portrayal of revenge and female empowerment in a time when they had none. Better to be there to go on, seize the next day, and have a mighty victory for a glorious, long life. I didn't need to memorize it because this very talented Author, Costanza Casati explains things so well into her narrative. King Tyndareus oversees the training and fights and when Helen is challenged for her first fight, Clytemnestra has to do something that is against the rules, something never done. The ending felt a bit rushed in comparison to the rest of the story, but don’t climactic scenes usually feel feverishly fast, both in the minds of readers and the lives of those experiencing them?

How will Clytemnestra’s different ways of thinking about things (however smarter they may seem) create victories, or disasters, for her in the future? In its deft portrayal of the many layers of trauma, and in its offering of a feminist take on revenge, Clytemnestra joins a recent spate of similarly minded artworks, including Emerald Fennell’s film Promising Young Woman and Michaela Coel’s television series I May Destroy You. She endures much abuse, loss and grief, including the senseless murder of her first husband and infant son.It is as if she keeps burning herself, then plunges her arm into freezing water to keep the pain at bay … slowly, those thoughts healed her, as much as one so broken can be healed. Clytemnestra marries Tantalus, the king of Maeonia whom she loves, but then she is taken by Agamemnon and faces much loss.

I appreciate a good writing, and in this book, that is something that totally exceeds the expectations.

This plan is thrown into disarray when the rest of Anh’s family don’t make the journey, and the survivors end up settling in Thatcher’s Britain – where jobs are scarce and foreigners don’t feel entirely welcome. You can see at which point she simply stops feeling as she did before, and the reasons why she did that. When she left the palace hours ago, the sun was rising, warm on her skin, and the grass was wet against her soles. The pace does falter slightly in the middle of the narrative while chronicling the years Clytemnestra waits for the Battle of Troy to end while she rules over Mycenae with a firm hand, but not so much that you lose interest in the story. It bears repeating that the atmospheric imagery and the poetic prose is so suburb, that it is equally as spectacular as Madeline Miller's masterpiece, "Circe.