Natalie Haynes
The Children of Jocasta by Natalie Haynes is very loosely based on the Theban plays of Sophocles. As Haynes acknowledges in her Afterward, she plays “fast and loose with the myth,” deviating in significant ways from the Oedipus/Antigone myth.
The novel shifts back and forth between two timelines, two perspectives, and two story lines. It opens with the first-person point of view of Ismene as the youngest child of Oedipus and Jocasta. Her mother is dead; her father is exiled; and her two brothers, with the assistance of their uncle Creon, rotate annually for the kingship of Thebes. Ismene’s story is replete with palace intrigue, including attempted assassinations; treason; the deaths of her two brothers; and the clandestine burial of Eteocles, the brother accused of treason. Ismene’s story ends with her heading to Corinth to seek her father.
The second timeline takes place years earlier. It unfolds in the third person-point of view with a focus on Jocasta. She is a fifteen-year-old betrothed to King Laius. Hers is an unhappy marriage that includes the presumed still-birth of her first child. After Laius’ death, Jocasta becomes queen, marries Oedipus, and has four children. Her thread ends with her death. The plague, known as “the reckoning,” plays a prominent role at the end of Jocasta’s reign.
Poetic license grants an author the right to modify a myth as he/she sees fit. But Haynes’ deviations are so significant that the novel bears little resemblance to the original. The Sphinx is transformed to a gang of armed robbers who attack travelers. Ismene, not Antigone as in the original, defies Creon and buries her brother. And Haynes’ decision to assign nicknames to the children is a jarring deviation. Ismene is Isy; Antigone is Ani; Eteocles is Eteo; Polyneices is Polyn; and Haemon is Haem. The incongruity of these nicknames leaps off the page, posing an unnecessary and baffling disruption.
The most problematic issue is with deviation from the very essence of the myth. The crux of the Oedipus myth hinges on incest and the discovery of the incest. Haynes chooses to reduce the incest to a mere rumor with no definitive proof. Oedipus summarily dismisses the rumor, attributing it to a wicked, old woman’s desire for revenge. Jocasta doesn’t dismiss it quite so readily, but she hangs herself without ever confirming its truth one way or the other. By casting doubt on the incest, Haynes has effectively stripped the myth of its reason for being. The unwitting incest forms the essential core of the story. Without it, the story of Oedipus, Jocasta, and their troubled progeny loses its dramatic intensity.
Haynes is to be commended for giving voice to Jocasta and Ismene and centralizing their experience. She succeeds in capturing palace life and the hustle and bustle of the city market in vivid, sensory detail. But the work suffers from lengthy expositions—too much telling and too little showing. The characters are underdeveloped, uninteresting mouthpieces. The dialog is strained and doesn’t flow naturally. The shouting match between Eteocles and Polyneices borders on the farcical. And by diminishing the incestuous relationship between Jocasta and Oedipus to nothing more than rumor-mongering, Haynes has obfuscated the very core of the myth and deprived it of its very essence and considerable power.