In which there was a lot of "yes, but" and "hm, I like this, but not that" going on on my part. This is the second Haynes take on Greek myths I've rad - or is it the third? - and evidently, her books captivate me, I want to finish them. On the other hand, I also oftne feel like wailing "but if you shy away from this and that and also that, why did you pick these myths to begin with? That's not subversion, that's taking the core of the story away without replacing it with something similarly powerful.
What this particular novel, which has at its basis the "Theban Trilogy" by Sophocles - "Oedipus the King", "Oedipus at Kolonos", "Antigone" - reminds me of is nothing so much as Christa Wolf's take on Medea. Wolf's Medea doesn't kill her children, the Corinthians did that. She doesn't kill Creusa/Glauke, either, she did her best to keep her alive. And of course she did not kill her brother. And she's not jealous because Jason dumped her, because she has a lover of her own. Now, Wolf writes beautiful prose, and her main character works as an example of a female target of xenophobia and a few isms. But Medea, she is not. Because there's more than one main character in The Children of Jocasta, it's not as extreme here. With one caveat, Haynes' take on Jocasta makes for a compelling sympathetic character who at the same time is allowed to be flawed (as opposed to the other female main character). Not many fictionalisations of the Oedipus myth give Jocasta much room or characterisation; I think the only other memorable one is Ted Hughes' version of the Seneca Oedipus, where he wrote her a lot of additional lines. And I thought starting (her part of the story) with Jocasta as the bewildered young bride of a near always absent Laios and showing the incredible pain she goes through when her newborn child is taken from her because of a prophecy, something entirely ignored in other versions, made for empathic and emotive reading. Oedipus himself once he shows up is also a compelling mixture of virtues and (real, not cute like "oh, so stubborn") flaws. You can see why Iocasta falls for him and why brother Kreon really does not.
Howevr, our other main character is Ismene. And where do I start? In the afterword, Haynes says that since Antigone and Kreon burn up the oxygen in their original play and Ismene ihas just a few lines there, she gave Antigone only the "does this for her own glory" characterisation, and gave Ismene her more heroic acts. Arggh. The result is a completely unbelievable Antigone (as a character, never mind as Antigone - the first three thirds of the book she's oblivious to anything but her intended Haemon, not a fault any other version of Antigone has, and in the last she's revealed as a cold blooded megalomaniac glory seeker) and an Ismene who is basically Original Antigone 2.0. (she's the one who dares to bury her brother against orders) without any of the inconvenient or disturbing traits of Original Antigone. Or any traits of Original Ismene at all. And the thing is, Ismene in Sophocles' play might not have had many lines, but she did have characterisation, and a very human, sympathetic characterisation. She wants to live, she's mourning for everyone, too, but she wants to live, she wants a future, and doesn't want to get killed and thus doesn't participate in the whole brother burying enterprise. And then when Antigone gets caught and Ismene realises her last remaining sibling could get executed, she does throw her life on the line by saying she's guilty, too. (Which Antigone rejects. Antigone not wanting Ismene to die with her is one of those ambigous things which make Antigone an interesting character beyond "puts love of brother before reason of state" - is she rejecting Ismene in retaliation of Ismene's refusal to join her earlier, is she trying to save Ismene's life? Anyway, my point is: Sophocles' Ismene might be a minor character, but she's sympathetic, and very human in both her non-heroicness early and her belated outburst of sisterly love and grief. Meanwhile, Haynes' Ismene is a bland YA heroine who does everything right and is good and true, and courageous without wantiing anyon to get hurt, and also in case we're missing her YA heroiness she loves songs and reading and Antigone does not.
The brothers, Polnikes and Eteocles, are similarly blandified into high school AUness. (They've also switched positions for no discernable reason; as opposed to the myth, it's now Eteocles whom Kreon orders to rmain unburied as a traitor and Polnikes to gets buried as the King.) Polnikes is the Jock, int athletics while abhorring all things culture, while Eteocles is the sensitive poetry and song loving nerd. Most seriouisly, though: there's no war. Their fallout, rivalry and deaths are all because, spoiler, Uncle Kreon has schemed and made it look like Polnikes has conspired to have Ismene killed. Neither Polnikes nor Eteocles leave the city before they die. This seriously impacts not just their but Kreon's characterisation. Kreon in Sophocles goes from being a genuine good guy in King Oedipus to being the antagonist in Antigone, but he's not a mustache twirling Evil McEvil King who orders to bury only one brother because he's that type of tyrant and sadist. His order to not have Polnikes buried does have a non-petty, non-scheming reason: Polnikes has died and killed his brother leading a war against Thebes. We're in Thebes. Lots of other Thebans have just died because of this fraternal war. This isn't a private family matter. Sophocles gives Kreon genuine good arguments (and so does Anoulih.)
Once you remove the war, and make the fraternal fallout not only purely personal but also engineered by Kreon, he goes from being an interesting antagonist with good intentions paving the way to hell, err, to tragedy to just being yet another scheming vizier who made it to the top and has become a a tyrant. To be fair: for about half of the book, he's sympathetic, and Haynes gives him reasons to fall out with his sister and her husband. But then it's blandification time. And as the final indignity, he and Antigone switch places in that it's now Kreon who dies at the end, while Antigone lives (having faked her suicide) and reveals herself as a powerhungry cold blooded schemer, too. (Exit Ismene in disgust.)
And then there's the nature of the Oedipus and Jocasta relationship. Here I must say that until the big showdown I didn't twig that Teresa was actually a (somewhat villainous) version of Tiresias, and I should have - that was brilliant, Ms Haynes. As she says in the afterword, after all, Tiresias famously spent some years as a woman. However: writing a novel in which Oedipus might not be Jocasta's son after all (the novel doesn't say for sure - age wise, he could be, and he finds out he's adopted as per myth, buuuuut the idea that he is really that long lost baby grown up is only spread by a vengeful and embittered Teresa because the people of Thebes want a scapegoat for the return of the Plague), and where she commits suicide not because she's realised her husband is also her oldest son but because she's caught the Plague and doesn't want to infect her family, well, that's likle writing a novel where Medea does not kill her children (nor has she killed anyone else), and is not resentful about being dumped by Jason. There is only so much you can change before losing the heart of the story.
By which I mean: she could have put Jocasta and Oedipus in space and they'd still have been recognizable these characters as long as a) the shock realisation that they are really mother and son happens years and years into the marriage because Oedipus starts his "who killed Laios" investigation, b) this whole disaster happens because everyone involved tried to do everthing possible to avoid it (if Laios hadn't ordered baby Oedipus to be killed because of the prophecy, if Oedipus hadn't fled his adopted parents - believing they were his biological parents - after getting his own "you will kill your father and marry your mother" propihecy, etc.), and also because Oedipus is the kind of guy unable to leave well enough alone (or to not get into fights with strangers on the road), and c) they really are mother and son. That is the bloody point. Oh, and after giving us a good and plausible Jocasta pov throughout the story, showing us her character development etc., Haynes chickens out at the last moment and switches to Oedipus' pov when it comes to her death (i.e. we're not with her when she dies), just so that Oedipus can belatedly find out she didn't kill herself because of the idea she could be his mother, she did it because of the Plague.
All of which leaves me to the conclusion: why do you write a book based on the Theban myths yet shy away from what gave those myths the power to endure? Because no, Antigone isn't an easy heroine because she stands up to the state for the sake of her dead brother. Her motives are mixed, and her extreme unwillingness to compromise is part of why she ends up dead, it's not jiust Kreon's similar inflexibility for raison d'état reasons. And absolutely, Ismene is likeable, but not because she's the better Antigone, i.e. without any of those less than endearing traits but with the courage to do what she does; she's likeable because she wants to live and not have to be a heroine! And why provide us with two really good takes, characterisation wise, on Jocasta and Oedipus as people only to go for a "but it was probably really a lie by Teresa!" when it comes to the reveal, and to shy away from giving us Jocasta's final thoughts?
And the thing is, Natalie Haynes can write. The descriptive passages are gorgeous, as mentioned two of the characterisations I thought were very well done, and some of the twists. But so much of the book feels like the author shying away from what truly makes this story/stories endure, and that's a shame.