Le Guin puts a new spin on classic tale

The Bookmonger

BARBARA McMICHAEL | • Published May 04, 2008

Portland science fiction/fantasy writer Ursula K. Le Guin detours from her accustomed genre to resuscitate a minor character mentioned in "The Aeneid," Vergil's heroic epic that mythologizes the founding of Rome. The resulting novel, "Lavinia," gives a distaff perspective to an ages-old story, and should intrigue anyone who is interested in classical mythology.

Aeneas, you may recall, was a Trojan, son of a divine union between Prince Anchises and the love goddess Venus, and a valiant fighter during the Greek siege of Troy. Commanded by the gods to lead a group out of that burning city, Aeneas and his contingent spent several years wandering the Mediterranean, looking for a new place to build a kingdom. When they arrived on Italy's shore, the King of Latium acted on oracular counsel and offered his daughter Lavinia in marriage. But a local prince already had set his sights on the princess, and a bloody battle ensued.

In Vergil's epic, Lavinia rates only a few words, but Le Guin now expands upon the life of this young woman whose existence, not unlike that of Helen of Troy, changed the political landscape.

In this version of the tale, Le Guin uses a storytelling device that might jolt the unsuspecting reader: Lavinia comes to realize that she is but a character in a poet's imagination. In mystical conversations with her creator, Vergil, she seeks clarification as to what her future might hold, and scolds the poet for his insufficient representation of her.

"I know that he gave me nothing but modest blushes, and no character at all. In truth he gave me nothing but a name, and I have filled it with myself," she muses.

And so she tells her own story, doing her best to flesh out the details of a life previously dismissed as a bit part. She reminisces about her childhood and recounts the daily routines and duties of a royal daughter who lives in hardscrabble times. She describes her beloved father and her mother who has gone mad with grief over the early deaths of Lavinia's two young brothers. And she worries about the political ramifications of her prospects for marriage.

Through her encounters with Vergil, Lavinia is aware even before marrying Aeneas that her time with him will be brief, but that it will be long enough for her to give birth to his son. She understands also that she must keep her boy, Silvius, out of the way of his stepbrother who, as Aeneas' first-born son, succeeds his father by rights.

She and Silvius bide their time in forest exile, and Silvius is raised to be ready for leadership when the time comes.

Le Guin recasts this story with primal vigor and spare but powerful language. It might take readers some time to get pulled into this story and the unique way in which it is told. I wish the author's illuminating Afterword had been used instead as a Foreword to the book -­ the thoughts expressed there are utterly tantalizing.

The Bookmonger is Barbara Lloyd McMichael, who writes this weekly column focusing on the books, authors and publishers of the Northwest. Contact her at bkmonger@nwlink.com.