#he was never an adult in these myths and in ovids version did not even realize the wings were for him until his father put them on him

[golyadkin]

Your comic on Icarus is pretty cool, but I don’t fully understand if you are implying Icarus’s death is the fault of his father Daedalus or not. Daedalus can definitely be considered a bad guy if you want because he made the labyrinth for the Minotaur, but what else could he do for his son given his circumstances? The stories of Greek mythology are full of narratives that can yield a lot of meanings, but I’m having a hard time understanding what else could have been done for Icarus.

Hey thanks, im glad you think its cool. I didnt want to explain it much because i want it to be open for interpretation but i will say this.

When the minotaur says "im sorry your dad did this to you" its not just about the wings and the fall, its about the circumstances as well. Daedalus didnt just make wings out of wax, he also helped Theseus escape, he built the labyrinth they were trapped in and that gave the minotaur no choice but to be a monster for Theseus to kill, he made the cow disguise that begot the minotaur in the first place, he was even the reason they were stuck on Crete to begin with but ill let you look up why. Most of this is framed in the myths as Daedalus being prideful not trapped. Sure Minos and Pasiphae and Ariadne ordered or asked him to do these things but it was still him who did it and he took pride in doing them well. But the key concept here is that Daedalus didnt just build the wings, he also built the circumstances under which Icarus was able to die. His intentions here dont really matter and his love for his son made no difference. Icarus died because of his fathers creations and deeds, and history framed it as Icarus, a child, not doing what he was told (his story specifically is a warning against excess).

That being said, this is not a comic that damns Daedalus in my eyes, it is a comic that sympathizes with Icarus. For me, its about how a son shouldnt suffer punishments on behalf of his fathers deeds in the same way the minotaur didnt deserve to be trapped and killed because his father, the king, first wouldnt slaughter a bull for a god and then could not bring himself to kill the child that resulted from this slight. Minos never even considered raising the minotaur. He loved him but he could not stomach him. These are two sons who were shaped and punished for the misdeeds of their fathers and neither of them deserved it. I dont know if youll connect with the comic but i hope you can understand it a bit better and at the very least understand that Icarus and the minotaur were not isolated tragedies

[yamayuandadu]

Circe by Madeline Miller: a review

As you might have noticed, a few of my most recent posts were more or less a liveblog of Madeline Miller’s novel Circe. However, as they hardly exhausted the subject, a proper review is also in order. You can find it under the “read more” button. All sorts of content warnings apply because this book takes a number of turns one in theory can expect from Greek mythology but which I’d hardly expect to come up in relation to Circe. I should note that this is my first contact with this author’s work. I am not familiar with Miller’s more famous, earlier novel Song of Achilles - I am not much of an Iliad aficionado, truth to be told. I read the poem itself when my literature class required it, but it left no strong impact on me, unlike, say, the Epic of Gilgamesh or, to stay within the theme of Greek mythology, Homeric Hymn to Demeter, works which I read at a similar point in my life on my own accord.

What motivated me to pick up this novel was the slim possibility that for once I’ll see my two favorite Greek gods in fiction, these being Hecate and Helios (in case you’re curious: #3 is Cybele but I suspect that unless some brave soul will attempt to adapt Nonnus’ Dionysiaca, she’ll forever be stuck with no popcultural presence outside Shin Megami Tensei). After all, it seemed reasonable to expect that Circe’s father will be involved considering their relationship, while rarely discussed in classical sources, seems remarkably close. Hesiod’s Catalogue of Women and Apollonius’ Argonautica describe Circe arriving on her island in her father’s solar chariot, while Ptolemy Hephaestion (as quoted by Photius) notes that Helios protected her home during the Gigantomachy. Helios, for all intents and purposes, seems like a decent dad (and, in Medea’s case, grandpa) in the source material even though his most notable children (and granddaughter) are pretty much all cackling sorcerers, not celebrated heroes. How does Miller’s Helios fare, compared to his mythical self? Not great, to put it lightly, as you’ll see later. As for Hecate… she’s not even in the book. Let me preface the core of the review by saying I don’t think reinterpreting myths, changing relations between figures, etc. is necessarily bad - ancient authors did it all the time, and modern adaptations will inevitably do so too, both to maintain internal coherence and perhaps to adjust the stories to a modern audience, much like ancient authors already did. I simply don’t think this book is successful at that. The purpose of the novel is ostensibly to elevate Circe above the status of a one-dimensional minor antagonist - but to accomplish this, the author mostly demonizes her family and a variety of other figures, so the net result is that there are more one dimensional female villains, not less. I expected the opposite, frankly. The initial section of the novel focuses on Circe’s relationship with her family, chiefly with her father. That’s largely uncharted territory in the source material - to my knowledge no ancient author seemed particularly interested in covering this period in her life. Blank pages of this sort are definitely worth filling. To begin with, Helios is characterized as abusive, neglectful and power-hungry. And also, for some reason, as Zeus’ main titan ally in the Titanomachy - a role which Hesiod attributes to Hecate… To be fair I do not think it’s Hesiod who serves as the primary inspiration here, as it’s hard to see any traces of his account - in which Zeus wins in no small part because he promises the lesser titans higher positions that they had under Cronus - in Miller’s version of events. Only Helios and Oceanus keep their share, and are presented as Zeus’ only titan allies (there’s a small plot hole as Selene appears in the novel and evidently still is the moon…) - contrary to just about any portrayal of the conflict, in which many titans actually side with Zeus and his siblings. Also, worth noting that in Hesiod’s version it’s not Oceanus himself who cements the pact with Zeus, it’s his daughter Styx - yes, -that- Styx. Missed opportunity to put more focus on female mythical figures - first of many in this work, despite many reviews praising it as “feminist.” Of course, it’s not all about Helios. We are quickly introduced to a variety of female characters as well (though, as I noted above, none of these traditionally connected to the Titanomachy despite it being a prominent aspect of the book’s background). They are all somewhat repetitive - to the point of being basically interchangeable. Circe’s mother is vain and cruel; so is Scylla. And Pasiphae. There’s no real indication of any hostility between Circe and any of her siblings in classical sources, as far as I am aware, but here it’s a central theme. The subplots pertaining to it bear an uncanny resemblance to these young adult novels in which the heroine, who is Not Like Other Girls, confronts the Chads and Stacies of the world, and I can’t shake off the feelings that it’s exactly what it is, though with superficial mythical flourish on top. I should note that Pasiphae gets a focus arc of sorts - which to my surprise somehow manages to be more sexist than the primary sources. A pretty famous tidbit repeated by many ancient authors is that Pasiphae cursed her husband Minos, regarded as unfaithful, to kill anyone else he’d have sex with with his… well, bodily fluids. Here she does it entirely  because she’s a debased sadist and not because unfaithfulness is something one can be justifiably mad about. You’d think it would be easy to put a sympathetic spin on this. But the book manages to top that in the very same chapter - can’t have Pasiphae without the Minotaur (sadly - I think virtually everything else about Pasiphae and Minos is more fun than that myth but alas) so in a brand new twist on this myth we learn that actually the infamous affair wasn’t a curse placed on Pasiphae by Poseidon or Aphrodite because of some transgression committed by Minos. She’s just wretched like that by nature. I’m frankly speechless, especially taking into account the book often goes out of its way to present deities in the worst light possible otherwise, and which as I noted reviews praise for its feminist approach - I’m not exactly sure if treating Pasiphae worse than Greek and Roman authors did counts as that.  I should note this is not the only instance of… weirdly enthusiastic references to carnal relations between gods and cattle in this book, as there’s also a weird offhand mention of Helios being the father of his own cows. This, as far as I can tell, is not present in any classical sources and truth to be told I am not a huge fan of this invention. I won’t try to think about the reason behind this addition to maintain my sanity. Pasiphae aside - the author expands on the vague backstory Circe has in classical texts which I’ve mentioned earlier. You’d expect that her island would be a gift from her father - after all many ancient sources state that he provided his children and grandchildren with extravagant gifts. However, since Helios bears little resemblance to his mythical self, Aeaea is instead a place of exile here, since Helios hates Circe and Zeus is afraid of witchcraft and demands such a solution (the same Zeus who, according to Hesiod, holds Hecate in high esteem and who appeared with her on coins reasonably commonly… but hey, licentia poetica, this idea isn’t necessarily bad in itself). Witchcraft is presented as an art exclusive to Helios’ children here - Hecate is nowhere to be found, it’s basically as if her every role in Greek mythology was surgically removed. A bit of a downer, especially since at least one text - I think Ovid’s Metarphoses? - Circe directly invokes Hecate during her confrontation with king Picus (Surprisingly absent here despite being a much more fitting antagonist for Circe than many of the characters presented as her adversaries in this novel…) Of course, we also learn about the origin of Circe’s signature spell according to ancient sources, changing people into animals. It actually takes the novel a longer while to get there, and the invented backstory boils down to Circe getting raped. Despite ancient Greek authors being rather keen on rape as plot device, to my knowledge this was never a part of any myth about Circe. Rather odd decision to put it lightly but I suppose at least there was no cattle involved this time, perhaps two times was enough for the author. Still, I can’t help but feel like much like many other ideas present in this book it seems a bit like the author’s intent is less elevating the Circe above the role of a one note witch antagonist, but rather punishing her for being that. The fact she keeps self loathing about her origin and about not being human doesn’t exactly help to shake off this feeling. This impression that the author isn’t really fond of Circe being a wacky witch only grows stronger when Odysseus enters the scene. There was already a bit of a problem before with Circe’s life revolving around love interests before - somewhat random ones at that (Dedalus during the Pasiphae arc and Hermes on and off - not sure what the inspiration for either of these was) - but it was less noticeable since it was ultimately in the background and the focus was the conflict between Circe and Helios, Pasiphae, etc. In the case of Odysseus it’s much more notable because these subplots cease to appear for a while. As a result of meeting him, Circe decides she wants to experience the joys of motherhood, which long story short eventually leads to the birth of Telegonus, who does exactly what he was famous for. The final arcs have a variety of truly baffling plot twists which didn’t really appeal to me, but which I suppose at least show a degree of creativity - better than just turning Helios’ attitude towards his children upside down for sure. Circe ends up consulting an oc character who I can only describe as “stingray Cthulhu.” His presence doesn’t really add much, and frankly it feels like yet another wasted opportunity to use Hecate, but I digress. Oh, also in another twist Athena is recast as the villain of the Odyssey. Eventually Circe gets to meet Odysseus’ family, for once interacts with another female character on positive terms (with Penelope, to be specific) and… gets together with Telemachus, which to be fair is something present in many ancient works but which feels weird here since there was a pretty long passage about Odysseus describing him as a child to Circe. I think I could live without it. Honestly having her get together with Penelope would feel considerably less weird, but there are no lesbians in the world of this novel. It would appear that the praise for Song of Achilles is connected to the portrayal of gay relationships in it. Can’t say that this applies to Circe - on this front we have an offhand mention of Hyacinth's death. which seems to serve no real purpose other than establishing otherwise irrelevant wind god is evil, and what feels like an advert for Song of Achilles courtesy of Odysseus, which takes less than one page. Eventually Circe opts to become mortal to live with Telemachus and denounces her father and… that’s it. This concludes the story of Circe. I don’t exactly think the original is the deepest or greatest character in classical literature, but I must admit I’d rather read about her wacky witch adventures than about Miller’s Circe. A few small notes I couldn’t fit elsewhere: something very minor that bothered me a lot but that to be honest I don’t think most readers will notice is the extremely chaotic approach to occasional references to the world outside Greece - Sumer is randomly mentioned… chronologically after Babylon and Assyria, and in relation to Persians (or rather - to Perses living among them). At the time we can speak of “Persians” Sumerian was a dead language at best understood by a few literati in the former great cities of Mesopotamia so this is about the same as if a novel about Mesopotamia mentioned Macedonians and then completely randomly Minoans at a chronologically later point. Miller additionally either confused or conflated Perses, son of Perseus, who was viewed positively and associated with Persia (so positively that Xerxes purportedly tried to use it for propaganda purposes!) with Perses the obscure brother of Circe et. al, who is a villain in an equally obscure myth casting Medea as the heroine, in which he rules over “Tauric Chersonese,” the Greek name of a part of Crimea. I am honestly uncertain why was he even there as he amounts to nothing in the book, and there are more prominent minor children of Helios who get no mention (like Aix or Phaeton) so it’s hard to argue it was for the sake of completion. Medea evidently doesn’t triumph over him offscreen which is his sole mythical purpose. Is there something I liked? Well, I’m pretty happy Selene only spoke twice, considering it’s in all due likeness all that spared her from the fate of receiving similarly “amazing” new characterization as her brother. As is, she was… okay. Overall I am definitely not a fan of the book. As for its purported ideological value? It certainly has a female main character. Said character sure does have many experiences which are associated with women. However, I can’t help but think that the novel isn’t exactly feminist - it certainly focuses on Circe, but does it really try to “rehabilitate” her? And is it really “rehabilitation” and feminist reinterpretation when almost every single female character in the book is the same, and arguably depicted with even less compassion than in the source material?  It instead felt like the author’s goal is take away any joy and grandeur present in myths, and to deprive Circe of most of what actually makes her Circe. We don’t need to make myths joyless to make them fit for a new era. It’s okay for female characters to be wacky one off villains and there’s no need to punish them for it. A book which celebrates Circe for who she actually is in the Odyssey and in other Greek sources - an unapologetic and honestly pretty funny character -  would feel much more feminist to me that a book where she is a wacky witch not because she feels like it but because she got raped, if you ask me. 

Circe evidently having the time of her life, by Edmund Dulac (public domain)

[itsclydebitches]

Why do you like Lore Olympus? I'm genuinely curious because I've seen a lot of harsh criticisms toward the comic, from its inaccuracies regarding its use of Greek Mythology to the plethora of harmful queer stereotypes. I tried reading it myself but honestly, if you took out all the Greek Mythology references and naming, it just seems like another "far older man courts a barely adult woman" love story with bad queer rep thrown it.

Happy to explain! Let’s tackle what’s perhaps the most complicated aspect first. 

As a former Classics major I can tell you that there is no “Greek Mythology.” Meaning, there is no singular Greek Mythology that can be referenced and consulted in any uniform way. Which is a really difficult thing to conceptualize in an age of print publications and careful record keeping. Unsure about whether Harry ever cursed Draco with such-and-such hex? Re-read the Harry Potter books to find out. Want to claim that Sherlock was horrible to Watson and frequently insulted him? We can comb through Doyle’s shorts stories and novels, tally every insult, and find out. These are canons and, as messy as the term “canonical” has become with more adaptations and transmedia storytelling, most characters have a set, fixed existence that we can return to and use as evidence. Not so with Greek Mythology. Born of oral storytelling, there are a hundred different versions of every myth, some changes more stark than others. Some of those versions were written down. Then written down again (differently). Then written down again (differently still). Then we realized they were almost all being written down by men and huh, I wonder if that has any impact on how they framed the story (spoiler: it absolutely does). And all of this doesn’t even take into account the issue of translation. Regardless of what Ovid may have put down on the page, you’re going to get a different experience depending on whether you read Melville or Gregory. There’s a reason why everyone was so excited over Emily Wilson being the first woman to translate The Odyssey into English. Her perspective and her experience as a woman by default changes the way she approaches the text. Even something as simple as a single description can have a HUGE impact depending on how it is translated. Take this excerpt from a NYT article: 

“The prefix poly,” Wilson said, laughing, “means ‘many’ or ‘multiple.’ Tropos means ‘turn.’ ‘Many’ or ‘multiple’ could suggest that he [Odysseus] is much turned, as if he is the one who has been put in the situation of having been to Troy, and back, and all around, gods and goddesses and monsters turning him off the straight course that, ideally, he’d like to be on. Or, it could be that he’s this untrustworthy kind of guy who is always going to get out of any situation by turning it to his advantage. It could be that he’s the turner.”

Is Odysseus a poor victim turned around by monsters and fate, or is he a schemer capable of turning it all to his advantage? It all depends on how it’s translated and whoever wants to make a case for Odysseus being a “good” or “bad” guy can point to this translation as evidence… or another. Or another. There are just too many versions for anyone to definitely say what these gods and others are “really” like. 

I put so much emphasis on this because the biggest criticism I’ve seen leveled against the comic is the characterization of Apollo. He would never rape Persephone! How dare you twist his character like that! Except Apollo isn’t a character that exists in a fixed canon. He belongs to an overwhelming corpus of complicated, contrary, contrasting myths… and yes, in some of those he raped. Arguably. It, again, comes down to translation and interpretation. Take this excerpt from Nancy Rabinowitz’s paper “Greek Tragedy: A Rape Culture?” 

Creusa, raped by Apollo years ago, conceived a child and abandoned him… For the purposes of this paper, I have to address the question of whether Creusa was in fact raped by the god. Hermes mixes the terminology in the prologue; he asserts that the god Apollo “yoked the daughter of Erechtheus in marriage (γάμοις)”, but he also says “by force (βίᾳ)” (10-11). Ion later (1524-25; cf. 341, 325) wonders whether Creusa was really raped, or whether she was just alleging that the god took her by violence to cover up an indiscretion of her own – a similar situation could be imagined in our own day, where false allegations may arise from young girls’ fear of confessing consensual relations to their parents. Lefkowitz argues that women tend to cooperate in their seduction by a god. While it might seem obvious that Ion is simply wrong, there is the further implication that though Apollo raped Creusa, she also desired him” (11-12). 

So if we’re looking for evidence that Smythe’s interpretation of Apollo is the “correct” one, it exists… depending on what you read and how you choose to interpret it: whether a mortal woman can ever truly give consent due to the power difference between her and a god, whether it was safe to say no, whether she might have lied to protect herself, whether it was something a part of her desired but perhaps didn’t entirely want, etc. It’s that last bit in particular—those difficult questions—that Smythe explores in her comic. Persephone wants to explore her sexuality. She wants a way out of her virgin obligations. But she’s also pressured into sex by Apollo. He doesn’t stop when she expresses discomfort. She doesn’t feel safe asserting herself and telling him to stop. It’s rape, but it’s a far more complicated situation than the rape scenario of “Evil man forces himself on woman in the back of an alleyway” and Smythe treats the tragedy with nuance and respect, even in a comic filled with so much humor. 

The people I see most upset about Lore Olympus are those who talk about the gods and their associated mortals as if they’re characters out of a book. They read one version once—or maybe two—and, as is natural in the 21st century, decided that This Is How The Story Goes. Even though every academic would be losing their mind over such definitive statements as, “Such-and-Such would never do this.” That’s simply not how records this ancient, sporadic, political, and downright messy work. So as someone with some knowledge of how Greek Mythology functions, I’m not at all put off by the comics’ “inaccuracies.” Because they’re simply not inaccuracies, just interpretations. Not liking those interpretations is fine, but that doesn’t mean Smythe was wrong for providing them. 

As for the rest, I’ll try to limit myself to bullet points: 

The age difference between Persephone and Hades is definitely A Thing and I admittedly didn’t realize that was the case when I started reading. I assumed that Persephone, like most of the cast, was hundreds/thousands of years old and just had a child-like personality. I basically realized around the time Hades did that she’s so young. That being said, the issue of age differences changes for me once you reach such insane ages. That’s why I still ship Ozqrow: Ozpin is hundreds of years older than him but at that point he’s going to be older than everyone. Always. Limiting his ships to only those who are close to Ozpin’s age means you can’t ship him at all (unless you ship him with Salem post-grimm pool and… no). It’s a similar situation with Hades. Yes, there are plenty of gods his age that he could date (and indeed he does) but he is always going to be thousands of years older than Persephone. She can literally never catch up to him, so if someone has an issue with the age gap then they have to accept that it will simply never go away. They can never be a couple in which case yeah, then the comic just isn’t your thing. 

Really, I think the bigger issue is not the gap itself but Persephone’s age, period. Again though, I appreciate that Smythe treats the situation with a great deal of respect. This isn’t a story of a much older man hunting a younger woman. It’s the story of a much older god who, like me the reader, assumed he had fallen for a slightly younger goddess… and then freaked out when he found out he was wrong. He’s called out for his ignorance. Others are incredibly protective of Persephone. They both try to stay away from one another and find themselves struggling. Which, to be frank, is an interesting dilemma to me. And it’s one I’m more interested in with gods as characters as opposed to humans. Because it feels less predatory to me. A man going after a much younger woman is threatening in part because we’re mortals who have so much to lose, including our youth. If you enter an abusive relationship that alone is horrible enough, but it also means you’ve lost all those years and all that experience to toxicity. When a god goes after a much younger goddess… they’re kind of static. They have eternity stretching out before them. Persephone potentially “losing” ten years to a relationship with Hades just isn’t the same thing as a mortal losing ten years to a relationship of their own. Gods, though they seem quite human, simply aren’t and thus for me questions of morality and what’s ethical in any given situation changes. We have a cast who, when Eros gets upset and murders a whole bunch of humans, Zeus shrugs and says they’ll just make more. Their concept of right and wrong differs from ours and it invites the reader to apply that to every situation: is it as wrong for an older god to go after a 19yo goddess as it would be for an older man to go after a 19yo woman? Many readers may decide it is—to some extent the text decides it is—but the story still possesses ambiguity and invites the reader to grapple with it. That’s compelling. 

Connected to this, I like how much agency Persephone has throughout the series. She’s very much a character who defies expectations, particularly when it comes to her sexuality. Far from being a meek, vulnerable woman who is preyed on by Hades, she is making constant, active decisions about her own romantic and sexual encounters. Even if that decision is just acknowledging how unsure she still is: does she want to remain a virgin? Does she want Apollo? Does she want Hades? Is it okay to make out with Ares? Wear this very short dress? Get drunk? Explore a city? Invite this person over? Have feelings for your boss? Persephone is grappling with a lot of questions that don’t have easy answers and the fact that the story gives her the room to do that grappling is fantastic. I’ve spoken before about my dislike of the Strong Female Character—someone who is not just physically intimidating but who also never, EVER hesitates. She knows precisely what she wants and she’s going to take it! Which is a great portrayal of one kind of woman… but I’m not that kind. I hem and haw and am anxious like Persephone. So for me it’s refreshing to see a story that paints uncertainty as strength. She’s allowed the space to be unsure and confused and is never belittled for that. 

Honestly I’m not sure what the issue with the queer rep is? Beyond the fact that Lore Olympus doesn’t seem to have any (unless I’m forgetting some. Very possible). Which, admittedly, is far from great, but if I dismissed every story due solely to a lack of queer characters I would limit a lot of my potential media. So for me, personally, that’s not a deal breaker. Taking a stab in the dark, I’ll make an assumption that people are upset about certain characterizations like Eros? Which, fair. But we also have the flip side that effeminate, flamboyant men do exist. It’s another complicated, touchy subject, but there’s a fine line between enforcing stereotypes and acknowledging that those stereotypes often do arise out of something. Some people hate the media image of the queer kid decked out in rainbows. Other people look at their own wardrobe and backpack and go, “Actually… yeah. That can be accurate.” For me stereotypes are primarily an issue given their prevalence. It’s an issue when that’s the only way queer characters are portrayed, but Lore Olympus doesn’t have that problem because, again, it’s focused on het relationships. Eros might potentially be a (non-confirmed?) queer stereotype… or he’s a battle-hardened warrior who also likes to gush about gossip while baking, the sort of complex gender portrayal that people claim to want. It depend on how you approach it. So no, Lore Olympus isn’t breaking any ground with queer rep but, as said, I do appreciate how it treats sexual assault—among other sensitive, relevant issues. It’s a trade-off. No piece of media is going to be perfect. I could say the same thing about so many great stories. The Mandalorian doesn’t have any queer rep! No, it doesn’t, but it is giving us a fantastic story about a bounty-hunter turned dad that challenges a number of Western gender assumptions so… trade-off. 

I likewise enjoy that characters call one another out on shitty, toxic behavior without completely losing who those characters are. (Again, supposedly who they are based on the lecture I gave at the start lol). Meaning, it would be kind of weird if Zeus wasn’t a womanizer. That’s what we expect of him, so changing that would likewise change one of the most fundamental aspects of what makes Zeus-Zeus in the general public’s perception of him. But we still have scenes of Hera and others calling him out on that shit, so it’s a balance between modern sensibilities and character expectations. 

The characters overall are just wonderfully complex. Persephone doesn’t seem so at first glance, but that’s partly the point: she’s nothing like what everyone assumes she is and it’s those assumptions that she’s learning to push back against. But overall Smythe has a real knack for emphasizing the human (or god) complexity. We hate Eros for helping Aphrodite punish Persephone. Then we feel bad for him because of his sob story. Then we pull back because he’s called out for being a dick and making himself look like the victim. Then we come to the realization that his side of the story was still accurate in many ways and finally end on… he’s flawed. He’s just a flawed person. He’s not a saint. He’s not the devil. He’s a guy who screwed up one moment and did something good the next. Perhaps it’s just me coming out of the nonsense that was Volume 7 of RWBY, but it’s refreshing to read a story where that complexity is emphasized and (most) flaws are forgiven while still being acknowledged. 

Overall I just find it to be a fun, entertaining story! lol. The artwork is beautiful. The humor is great. There’s a nice balance between plot and introspection. There are issues with the series, sure, but none thus far have kept me from enjoying the experience of reading it. I fully support anyone’s right to go, “Nope. Not for me.” For any reason. But I also feel like Lore Olympus is a good example of Tumblr’s recent emphasis on pure media: it must be PERFECT. Otherwise chuck it in the bin. Lore Olympus does a lot of the things that people on this site call for. Respectful depictions of assault. Emphasis on mental health. Storytelling from a woman’s perspective. Numerous types of woman characters. Being careful about who engages with sensitive material and how (each chapter that contains such issues has a trigger warning at the start, impossible to miss). Lore Olympus does a lot right… and some things wrong. Which is what we would expect of any good story. So it feels disingenuous of me—if not outright dangerous—to paint it as worse than I actually think it is. I want media to continue to improve, but I also don’t want to scare off authors from even trying because they were raked across the coals for not creating perfection. Smythe, to my mind, is definitely trying and that should be acknowledged.