Reclaiming a Myth in The Lost Daughter of Sparta

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It is an era of popularized Greek mythology in so many fields of entertainment: literary (Madeline Miller’s Orange Prize-winning Song of Achilles and Atenaeum Literary Award-winning Circe), online (Epic the Musical, penned by Jorge Rivera-Herrans and recorded by so many the YouTubers), video gaming (God of War and Hades), television (Percy Jackson and the Olympians, based on showrunner Rick Riordan’s series), and books for upper middle graders (Court of the Dead by Rick Riordan with Mark Oshiro).

 

The Lost Daughter of Sparta

Those examples are only a sampling, but they show the huge appetite that readers continue to have for the classics, especially when these old stories can reflect modern sensibilities. Riordan and Oshiro’s Court of the Dead questions the idea that monsters should be punished for being who they are. The Lost Daughter of Sparta, a new graphic novel by Felicia Day and Rowan MacColl, has similar themes, questioning not only ideas about monsters, but the roles of women, both mythical and modern, and what costs are involved in choosing a life of one’s own design.
In a very helpful author’s note, writer (and also well-known actor and online creator) Felicia Day describes when she first discovered the story that would become The Lost Daughter of Sparta. During a period of deep diving into Greek mythology, she came across the story of Tyndareus, and how Aphrodite cursed the King of Sparta’s daughters to betray their husbands. And while she knew about Helen, she had never before stumbled across the youngest sister, Philonoe.

In Catalogue of Women, from Hesiod’s writings in the sixth century BCE (quoted in Sententiae Antiquae), the youngest Spartan princess is described with a line that entranced Day:

…And Phylonoe whose body was most like the immortal goddesses. / Her… the arrow bearing goddess / Made immortal and ageless for all days.

But there’s not much more about Philonoe anywhere. (The references cited on Theoi.com, which is a fantastic resource for Greek mythology, are incredibly sparse, lending to Day’s assertion of Philonoe as lost.) It’s no surprise that a creative like Day found these sparse threads and thought there was a story there.

Moved forward by the fantastic artwork of Rowan MacColl, Day’s story introduces a Philonoe whose face was marked at birth—and she was deemed cursed for it, pawned off on goatherds so the king and queen of Sparta didn’t have to acknowledge another troublesome daughter. (Helen was already the cause of the great war when Philonoe was born.) So when Philonoe is called back to Sparta to dutifully marry an ally, she’s happy to do it. Finally, she can serve her family. Finally, she can earn love!

But, of course, it’s not that easy—and love is never something earned. Her mother reveals the family curse, which sends Philonoe on a quest to undo it, performing tasks for Aphrodite in order to be freed. Artemis, who has taken an interest in Philonoe’s story, becomes her guide into a world that is nothing like Philonoe expected.

Interior page from The Lost Daughter of Sparta

"She shared bits of history...moments of joy only a mother would remember. And I got to know her wondrous children, almost all of whom were gone. As I worked, I realized why my sister Clytemnestra had done what she had. What else could one do with all that emptiness?"

As the story progresses, Philonoe encounters familiar figures from the myths—the gorgons, Echidna, even Artemis herself—whose tales could be framed as those of wronged women. (The golden bird of Mount Iogos, which Day has given a compelling story of being wronged as a woman, and as a man, and even as a bird, may also be a familiar myth, but a search for the source material there provided no obvious results.) As the princess progresses on her quest, she realizes that her desire to break her curse will not make her happy, but in truth, she’s not sure what will. She feels, understandably, trapped, and unsure how to take the reins of her own life.

Readers will absolutely be urging her own to both greater understanding and to a future that she deserves, and that will make her fulfilled. Day doesn’t give the spoiler about Philonoe’s future (if quoting something from the sixth century BCE can truly be a spoiler) until the very end, but she builds the relationship (and romance) between a lonely Artemis and a doomed princess page by page. Artemis is as haughty and self-righteous as one would expect from a Greek god, but over the pages, she also grows and changes, until the ending leaves readers with a satisfying conclusion to the mystery of this lost mythological figure.

While this is published for adults, it has very young adult themes; Philonoe’s discovery of her place in the world and her decisions to make choices to determine her own path definitely resonate in the YA market. Upper middle graders may or may not be ready for some of the mentions of violence, murder, and assault that are staples of Greek mythology, but those already familiar with a lot of these stories (including versions of Medusa’s myth that fault Poseidon for Medusa’s fate) are unlikely to find this version any more shocking. In fact, MacColl’s illustrations soften many of these themes through the use of mainly black and white art with red accents, which creates some distance (and also evokes classical Greek pottery). Philonoe’s perfectionism and anxiety, her struggles with abandonment and her desire to be loved, all seem likely to resonate with tween and teen readers. That Philonoe comes out the other side better, without sacrificing any of what makes her herself, may offer that audience hope that their future, too, holds brighter days.

Overall, this is a beautifully drawn (both figuratively and literally) story that praises girls and women who know their own minds, and who know they are worthy of love. It deserves a spot in the canon of modern Greek myth retellings. Rating: 9.5/10.