Product Description

Condemned to shoulder the world, for ever, by the gods he dared defy, freedom seems unattainable to Atlas. But then, he receives an unexpected visit from Heracles, the one man strong enough to share the burden - and it seems they can strike a bargain that might release him...Jeanette Winterson asks difficult questions about the nature of choice and coercion in her dazzling retelling of the myth of Atlas and Heracles. Visionary and inventive, believable and intimate, "Weight" turns the familiar on its head to show us ourselves in a new light.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #131106 in Books
• Published on: 2006-07-06
• Original language: English
• Binding: Paperback
• 176 pages

Review
"Inspired by a Titan, she begins appropriately on a titanic scale, writing about the heavens and the earth, and astronomy and geology, and bringing her musings home to the human scale." Sunday Times "[Winterson] produces some exquisitely filmic prose that is almost mythopoetic." Independent "An original and challenging approach... profound and provocative." Daily Mail "A touching meditation on the difficult journey to self-knowledge, and also extremely funny, communicating verve and wit." Guardian"

Independent
"[Winterson] produces some exquisitely filmic prose that is almost mythopoetic."

Daily Mail
"An original and challenging approach ... profound and provocative."

Customer Reviews

A strange mixture
This is a volume in Canongate's series of myths retold, in this case the one of Atlas and Hercules - with a section towards the end about what happened to Hercules after the episode with Atlas. It is preceded by what I think is a rather pretentious Introduction, in which the author flags up that we are not in for what she calls `plodding fiction', and it does turn out to be a strange mixture of a book.

Some parts of it are very good: Winterson conveys what it must feel like to be poor Atlas, condemned for eternity to bear the weight of the cosmos on his shoulders, his brief release as Hercules temporarily took over the burden, and then being tricked to resume it. She is also effective in the way she represents Hercules, as a coarse creature who loves violent action but whose brain hurts when anything like reflection occurs to him. Other parts of the book are less successful, in my view. At times there is a rather mechanical retelling of the myth, as, for example, when Hercules tells Atlas of his birth and enumerates all the labours he has performed - rather as a character in a badly written play conveys information to the audience in an opening scene. Then there are Jeanette Winterson's `poetic' but imprecise ruminations about Fate and Freedom, bringing in small fragments of her own personal life. She refers frequently to `Boundaries' and `Desires', concepts that are obviously very significant for her but whose meaning in this context rather escapes me (doubtlessly my fault: it is probably too `plodding' of me to look the kind of lucidity I found in Margaret Atwood's Penelopiad in this same series - see my review). Other parts show Winterson's fascination with the characteristics of planets in the solar system and with 20th century space exploration: rather whimsically (mythically?) there is towards the end an encounter between Atlas and Laika, the dog in Sputnik.

A story of a story.
Now on to much weightier matters. Winterson takes a much different approach than Atwood. She tells this tale as herself telling her tale retelling a tale. Confusing? No not really. She begins with herself, tells the story of Heracles ad Atlas and then returns to her own life and lessons learnt.

Unlike the Penelopiad, this book Weight is very dark and brooding and leaves one with a feeling of unease as if we missed something, or even that in reading this book, like Pandora, we have opened a box and cannot now close it and will be forever different. Though we are not sure how.

How does Winterson accomplish this? In this deep brooding book she touches something primal inside. Much as Heracles is awoken and bothered by the question "Why? Why? Why?" this question arises and will not let him go.

So too, this book will awaken questions in your mind and your spirit, and maybe, just maybe, if we are lucky, in this book we will find the questions to lift our weight. If we can learn from it to tell our story we can be freed, and step out from under the burden on our shoulders, as Atlas so desperately desired.

(First published in Imprint 2005-11-05 as `Myth Novels')

A story of a story.
Now on to much weightier matters. Winterson takes a much different approach than Atwood. She tells this tale as herself telling her tale retelling a tale. Confusing? No not really. She begins with herself, tells the story of Heracles ad Atlas and then returns to her own life and lessons learnt.

Unlike the Penelopiad, this book Weight is very dark and brooding and leaves one with a feeling of unease as if we missed something, or even that in reading this book, like Pandora, we have opened a box and cannot now close it and will be forever different. Though we are not sure how.

How does Winterson accomplish this? In this deep brooding book she touches something primal inside. Much as Heracles is awoken and bothered by the question "Why? Why? Why?" this question arises and will not let him go.

So too, this book will awaken questions in your mind and your spirit, and maybe, just maybe, if we are lucky, in this book we will find the questions to lift our weight. If we can learn from it to tell our story we can be freed, and step out from under the burden on our shoulders, as Atlas so desperately desired.

(First published in Imprint 2005-11-05 as `Myth Novels')