Circe: Foreshadowing 5 key examples

Circe does not use Daedalus's name until a few lines later. The metaphor helps to build suspense and excitement as the reader waits to find out who Circe's visitor is. It implies that while mortal, he is a rare and impressive "meteor" in Greek mythology. There are multiple important stories about Daedalus and his incredible craftsmanship, which even the gods find impressive. However, the meteor metaphor foreshadows the specific story for which Daedalus will become most famous once it comes to pass: the story of his and his son's attempted escape from Crete on wings made of wax and feathers. There is a way to read Icarus's death during this escape attempt as divine punishment for Daedalus's inventiveness: no mortal should be so bold as to attempt flying. And yet, flying turns Daedalus into a "meteor" streaking across the sky. For better or worse, the gods cannot ignore him.

Circe notes that "merely good" mortals are "dust to us." In contrast with a flying meteor that enraptures all who look up at it, dust lives mainly beneath people's feet. When it rises up to rest visibly on tables and other surfaces, it is treated as a nuisance to be wiped away. This is how the gods think of most mortals: not at all, or possibly as a minor inconvenience. Mortals should not take it personally, Circe suggests. Their bodies die and disintegrate too fast for most of them to distinguish themselves.

However, while most gods spend their lives looking up to the sky at Zeus, Helios, and the occasional remarkable mortal, Circe spends an inordinate amount of her time paying attention to the earth beneath her feet. She cultivates plants and pays close attention to the way her island changes shape through centuries of erosion. Likewise, she quickly becomes interested in Daedalus not for the things that make him famous, but rather for the things that make him human. Icarus's "meteoric" death happens off the page. Circe describes Daedalus's grief in the aftermath, emphasizing the ordinary human element of the story above all. Mortals may be "dust to [gods]," but dust is far more important to Circe than it is to most gods. It is so alluring, in fact, that she chooses to become mortal "dust"  herself.

Daedalus's statement that Icarus "does what he wants" gestures toward the way Icarus dies in Greek mythology. Daedalus, a legendarily talented craftsman, makes wings out of wax and molted bird feathers. He shows Icarus how to use the wings to fly so that the two of them can escape Crete, where Pasiphaë has long imprisoned them. Despite Daedalus's clear instruction not to fly too close to the sun for fear of melting the wax, Icarus is so thrilled by the miracle of human flight that he flies as high as he can until his wings fail, and he falls to his death.

The idea that Icarus's free will is an "old joke" between the father and son at once foreshadows Icarus's eventual death in the novel and also emphasizes that Icarus has had a full and rich existence up until now, complete with inside jokes. Icarus is one of many mythological characters in the novel who is known primarily for a single story. People have told that story over and over, turning Icarus into a symbol of his own death. Simply his name evokes a warning: do not "fly too close to the sun," for fear of getting burned. By contextualizing Icarus's bleak future within his complex and often joyous childhood, Miller invites readers to see him not as an immortal myth, but as a boy living his one and only life. This invitation is an extension of the care and empathy Miller visits on Circe as she considers the background and motivations that lead to Circe's "monstrous" behavior in mythology. As far as the book is concerned, all the characters were people long before they were myths.

In this context, the allusion also brings into question the idea of who is at fault for Icarus's death. Icarus has typically been blamed, both because he overestimates his capabilities and because he disobeys his father. However, it is the sun that kills Icarus. Within a novel about the daughter of the cruel, tyrannical sun—an actual, personified character—Icarus's death begins to look more unjust than cautionary. Daedalus seems to love Icarus for his free will. He even tells Circe that he wants Icarus to be free to live life on his terms. His directive to steer clear of the sun is not an attempt to make Icarus obey, but rather a warning against Helios's wrath. Like Circe, Icarus and his father are at the mercy of Helios's cruel whims.

Greek mythology is full of disguises and revelations about identities. In The Odyssey, one of the most central influences on Miller's book, strangers are always showing up at one another's homes. There is often a careful dance of hospitality the characters follow to establish trust before they reveal to each other who they really are. Because The Odyssey is an epic tale about heroes and gods, the strangers usually turn out to be very important people. Even Athena herself makes regular appearances in disguise.

In this scene, Miller draws on these conventions surrounding disguises and identities. The veil and the woman's downward gaze draw attention to the fact that neither Circe nor the reader knows who the visitors are. They could be anyone. At the same time, the need for the woman to conceal her face hints at the idea that her identity is especially important. It is a secret that she feels she must guard until Circe proves herself to be a welcoming host. This secrecy suggests that she is almost surely going to be someone the reader and Circe alike have heard of. The way Medea hides her face and hair with the veil thus creates dramatic irony that is all the more tense because it foreshadows her significance. Sure enough, she is both a recognizable figure in Greek mythology and also Circe's own niece. By veiling herself, she at once conceals these facts about herself and also signals to Circe that she ought not to kill her right away.

Most people think of "keeping" a child as maintaining a presence in their life. Odysseus has decidedly not done this with Telemachus. Odysseus's professed commitment to his family has always puzzled readers of the ancient epic. On the one hand, he seems genuinely desperate to return to them. On the other hand, he abandoned them for the war. What's more, he takes careless and unnecessary detours that add years to his journey home. He is at least as committed to glory as he is to his family, even though these two commitments stand in direct opposition to one another.

In this exchange, Circe sympathizes with Odysseus and sees how his choice to go to war may have been, paradoxically, a choice for both glory and family. Odysseus reveals that he tried to "keep" Telemachus in his life for longer by feigning mental illness so that Agamemnon would not draft him. However, this well-intended plan backfired. The choice was no longer between keeping Telemachus or abandoning him, but rather between keeping him alive or killing him. In order to keep his son alive, Odysseus had to abandon him. Going to war was good for Odysseus's glory and bad for his family, but it was also the only way he could see to protect Telemachus.

The idea of "losing" a son in order to "keep" him comes back around later in the novel, when Telegonus gets old enough for a life beyond Aiaia. Circe is fiercely protective of her son because she knows that Athena wants to kill him. However, when Circe realizes that a teenage Telegonus will never forgive her if she does not let him leave the island, she finds it within herself to let him risk his life. Only by letting him go does she preserve a relationship with him. Later on, she again faces an impossible choice when Telegonus gets the opportunity to go with Athena to found Rome. She grieves to know that she will likely never see him again, but she says goodbye nonetheless because "keeping" him on Aiaia would be to lose her good relationship with him. Together, Odysseus and Circe demonstrate that "keeping" and "losing" can be two sides of the same coin.

As Circe notes, poetic comparisons between sleep and death are common. Falling asleep is the only living human experience that people imagine might be similar to dying. Consequently, many people think euphemistically of death as the ultimate rest at the end of one long day, life. Circe reverses this metaphor: sleep ought to be as quiet and restful as death if only for a while. Odysseus has every reason to sleep peacefully, having spent a year in the comfort and safety of Circe's home. Still, Circe claims, "every night he went to war." His sleep imitates his noisy life, not his quiet death.

At first, it seems as though Circe may simply be charmed by Odysseus's restless sleep. It is one of the unexpected things about him that makes him interesting to her. However, his restlessness also foreshadows his next adventure. Immediately after this passage, Apollo delivers a prophecy that Odysseus must travel through the underworld before he can go home. This is not typically something a mortal would do in the course of their life. Most go to the underworld only when they die, and they remain there. However, Odysseus makes his journey right away and returns within the course of the chapter. "Dying" and refusing to stay put in the underworld thus becomes another one of his heroic feats. In a way, his sleep does mimic this first, restless death of his after all.