2023/176: Glorious Exploits — Ferdia Lennon

...as we listen, something happens. The words and voice blend so that what he is blends, and he becomes two things at once, a starving Athenian, yes, but something else, hidden, then rising. He's Medea, poor princess Medea from Colchis...[loc. 345]

Sicily, 414BC: two out-of-work potters, Gelon and Lampo, are on their way to the quarry with bread and olives. They'll feed the imprisoned Athenians, recently defeated at the Second Battle of Syracuse -- but only if said Athenians can manage a quotation or two, preferably from Euripides. Some of them do better than others, and after a while Gelon and Lampo hatch a plan to produce Euripides' Medea and The Trojan Women, right there in the quarry where the Athenians are surrounded by the tombs of their dead fellow soldiers; with Athenians playing all the roles, and full costume and scenery provided by our two heroes. They may be penniless potters, but they're avid theatre-goers -- and they have connections, including the delightfully sinister Tuireann, from 'the tin islands ... near Atlantis', who funds the production and who may have a god imprisoned on his ship.

The plays are produced; there's tension between Gelon and Lampo; there's a shockingly sudden act of vengeance; there's a daring escape. All fitting neatly into the historical context (which is backdrop rather than foreground: Lampo, for instance, berates a tour guide who's waxing eloquent about the death of Nicias, but barely mentions Nicias otherwise), and all exploring the multifarious shades of tragedy, from the theatrical to the personal. Happily, this is leavened by friendship, love and respect: I think the core of the novel is the friendship between Gelon and Lampo, and the things that make that friendship waver.

Glorious Exploits is the debut novel of Irish author Ferdia Lennon: I confess I was surprised (and initially irritated) by his rendition of colloquial speech as idiomatically Irish, but why not? I'd much rather read working-class characters speaking informally ("Ah, easy there now," says I. "There's plenty of fun to be had without mauling the staff. Right, lads?") than the stilted, grammatically correct dialogue found in some historical novels. Lennon's narrator, Lampo, may be a common man, but he's not immune to the magic of poetry or myth: and his and Gelon's shared passion for Euripides is a joy and an inspiration, however dark the denouement may be.

I'm reminded that I recently read another novel that featured the Sicilian Expedition: Mary Renault's The Last of the Wine. It's easy to imagine Myron, Alexias' father, as one of the Athenians who survives the quarries, who finally makes it home to tell of the Athenians' defeat.

Thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for the advance review copy, in exchange for this honest review: UK publication date is 18 JAN 2024).