Who Are The Main Characters In The Penelopiad?

What hooked me about 'The Penelopiad' was how Margaret Atwood resurrects Penelope from the shadow of Odysseus. She’s witty, weary, and utterly real, recounting her life with a mix of resentment and resilience. The twelve maids, though dead from the start, feel alive through their choral chapters—part lament, part accusation. Their intertwined stories expose the brutality of patriarchal myths, but with Atwood’s signature dark humor. It’s a compact powerhouse of a book, perfect for anyone who loves myth retold with a feminist edge. I still catch myself humming the maids’ songs days later.

Penelope and her twelve maids are the heart of 'The Penelopiad,' but Atwood’s genius lies in how she redefines them. Penelope isn’t just waiting for Odysseus; she’s strategizing, surviving, and mocking the epic’s machismo. The maids, though minor in Homer, become a visceral presence—their deaths aren’t just a footnote but a rallying cry. Atwood’s prose dances between bitter and playful, making their voices impossible to ignore.

Reading Margaret Atwood's 'The Penelopiad' felt like uncovering hidden layers of an ancient myth. The main characters are Penelope, Odysseus' famously loyal wife, and her twelve maids, who were hanged for disloyalty in Homer's original tale. Atwood gives Penelope a voice—sharp, witty, and deeply human—as she narrates her side of the story from the afterlife. the maids, often sidelined in the original epic, become a haunting chorus, their songs and grievances weaving through the narrative. What struck me was how Atwood flips the script, Turning these marginalized figures into central forces. Penelope’s reflections on marriage, power, and mythmaking are brutally honest, while the maids’ interludes add a raw, poetic justice to their silenced history. It’s a brilliant reimagining that lingers long after the last page.

I couldn’t help but compare it to other feminist retellings like 'circe' or 'the silence of the girls,' but 'The Penelopiad' stands out for its dark humor and theatrical structure. The maids’ chorus scenes read like a Greek tragedy remixed with modern satire, and Penelope’s sarcasm about Odysseus’ 'heroics' is downright delicious. Atwood doesn’t just retell a story—she interrogates it, and that’s what makes the characters unforgettable.

If you’re into Greek mythology with a twist, 'The Penelopiad' is a gem. Penelope takes center stage here, and she’s nothing like the passive queen from 'the odyssey.' She’s clever, sardonic, and unafraid to call out the hypocrisy of the gods and men around her. Then there are the twelve maids—their collective voice is eerie and tragic, a reminder of how history forgets the powerless. Atwood gives them agency, even in death, as they dissect their unjust fate. The dynamic between Penelope and the maids isn’t straightforward; it’s layered with guilt, complicity, and solidarity. I loved how the book plays with form, switching between Penelope’s memoir-style narration and the maids’ lyrical, almost ghostly interruptions. It’s a short read but packs a punch, especially if you’ve ever wondered about the untold stories behind classic myths.

Atwood’s Penelope is a masterclass in rewriting a classic character. She’s sharp, funny, and brutally honest about the compromises women make. The twelve maids—often ignored in 'The Odyssey'—haunt the narrative like a Greek chorus, their voices blending sorrow and defiance. Their fate hits harder here because Atwood lets them speak. It’s a short, sharp rebellion against mythic silence.