Shirin ≽^•⩊•^≼ t.'s Reviews > The Last Song of Penelope

"I am Athena, and my love is marble within my chest."

Three queens there were in Greece:

One beloved of Hera, who killed her husband and died (Ithaca),

One who belongs to the goddess of love and her name will live for as long as there is love (House of Odysseus),

And here it is at last, The Last Song of Penelope, One who wed to the beloved of Athena...

"Let his name be remembered for ever, let his story outlast the high temple upon the mountain peak, let all who hear it speak of Odysseus. And when you tell his story, remember: though he was lost, he was not alone. I was always by his side. Sing, poets, of Athena."

This trilogy was indeed worth reading, I am not saying it is perfect... Still, I enjoyed it. It was so smart, each book narrated by a goddess...

In this last conclusion, the story of Odysseus and Penelope after 20 years, after bloodshed, her beloved husband came back, was he beloved at all, loveable now?!

I always wonder in Penelope's story if she is so much in love with her husband and waiting for him so long, or is it just for the sake of her son?! Or only it was Homer building 3 women and each one chose a different path!

And now this book, The Last Song of Penelope:

"Listen closely, for this is the only time I will tell it. A whispered secret, a hidden tale – this is the story of what actually happened when Odysseus returned to Ithaca."

I always said Athena is the tricky one, do I in love or hate her?! Claire North did a smart thing, actually she did in all three books...we all choose between bad and worse, choose for the greater good, and sometimes mistaken

"Wisdom is not loud, is often unseen, unpraised, unremarked. Perhaps, if I were not also the lady of war, I would be wise enough to be content."

I said before in the last book that I also was among others who didn't enjoy the first book, as much as it deserved, but the story improved in the next two, and with some leniency, this deserves 5 stars!

Many thanks to Little, Brown Book Group UK (Orbit) via NetGalley for giving me a chance to read The Last Song of Penelope (The Songs of Penelope #3) by Claire North, I have given my honest review.

few long fav quotes:

I made myself like a man of Olympus. I thought , if I did so, that I would finally be able to show my power, to blaze – not as some silly woman, but as wisdom and war incarnate, bright amongst the gods. In some small ways, it worked. I was not mocked, as Aphrodite is; not dismissed so readily as Hera or Demeter when they speak. It was never quite enough, but it was something – and something was all I could grasp. I did not then appreciate what else would come from making myself a man. For these are the things a man may not be: frightened, ashamed, guilty, doubting, hurt, ignorant, full of need. The need to be seen. The need to be touched, the yearning to be held . The need to belong when broken as well as whole, in this ever-changing world.

Ares, of course, loves nothing more than a reckless charge into near-certain doom, the valour of the bloody man who must hold, hold, hold. He loves to cradle a warrior in his arms as he dies, one who did the impossible – and as soon as the life has faded from the dead man’s eyes he stands, shrugs and moves on without a care. War has no time, he says, to remember the names of the dead – that is a problem for peace. Nothing will get done if we stop to linger. This moment – just this – is the only thing that matters.

I have done everything in my power to be . . . relevant. To make the world about me wise, to make wisdom greater than war. I have failed. Men fight and die, and for what? Glory and power and spite and pride – nothing more. Gods and kings spin their stories, and in their stories it is good to die for one man’s pride and to give thanks for the chains that are put about the necks of every child born less than a king. And I thought . . . if I could not wield power through wisdom, or mercy, or justice, then perhaps I could take power in this other way. Perhaps if I became like these men of blood and cruelty, that would be enough. So I banished from my heart all hopes of tenderness, compassion, longing or kindness. I turned away friends for fear of being wounded, laid aside love as a danger, punished women for the things men do, denied my loneliness and refuted my fears.