A letter to Circe - Madeleine Miller

Written by- Aishwarya Chandra BA (hons) Journalism

edited by Vanshika

“When I was born, the name for what I was did not exist.”

Dearest Circe,

Forgive me for writing to you, though I know my words can never cross the seas to Aiaia, nor do they hold the power to pierce through the boundaries of time and myth. Still, my mortal heart feels compelled to reach out, as if by sending these thoughts into the world, I might draw a little closer to you, like the way Odysseus’s ship sailed to your island. Only, I do not come to you as a proud god, or a greed-sick mortal, but as a woman.

“It is a common saying that women are delicate creatures—flowers, eggs, anything that may be crushed in a moment’s carelessness. If I had ever believed it, I no longer did.”

Reading your words, I felt something stir within me, and for a moment, the boundary between reality and myth blurred into one, and I questioned myself. How often have women been told to fit into spaces too small for us, to accept silence where we should have been allowed to speak? You were cast aside, mocked for not being good enough, yet in truth, you were always more than they could bear, and for that, they tucked you away on an island for eternity. 

“You threw me to the crows, but it turns out I prefer them to you.”

Oh, how I love you, Circe. Even when scorn and betrayal would have made cruelty easier, you remained compassionate. Your island, meant to break you, became the ground where you rooted. You mothered with tenderness, risked your heart even when it meant breaking. In a world that was nothing but cruel, your softness feels like the fiercest form of rebellion. Daughter of Helios, you shine brighter than the sun. You remind me that women are not defined by the judgment of others, but by what we create for ourselves. Your story is no longer just yours; it echoes to every woman who dares to endure and to become. 

In awe,

A reader from afar.