This book follows the Greek myth of Theseus and the Minotaur. Written in verse, it follows the Minotaur, or Asterion, more than Theseus, as well as his psychological downfall, but through a rather childish lens, as his banishment from his mother takes its toll on the half-man half-bull.

I found this book not worth my time. Granted, it didn’t take a lot of time to read; I finished it in one night. The story switched narratives, from the point of view of Poseidon, God of the Sea, to Asterion (the Minotaur), Ariadne, Theseus, Minos, and Pasiphae. The poems were written in a childish way:  I found that you could tell the author was searching for words to match his rhyme scheme, and it wasn’t meaningful poetry, but rather a different way of telling a beautiful old tale in an offensively modern way. I don’t know about you, but Poseidon using slang and profanity does not seem to be a nice way to uphold the Grecian culture. The plot is ancient, as it follows directly that of the myth, in which the Minotaur is banished as a beast into a Labyrinth, where evil King Minos makes Athenian sacrifices go, presumably to be eaten. Theseus, a brave Athenian youth, decides to volunteer as a sacrifice, and try to kill the Minotaur to save his people. In this way, the story is riveting, but not at all as credit to David Elliot. The characters were very two-dimensional, with the classic brawny, vain hero, Theseus, the sad, lonely, forsaken Minotaur, poor deranged wife Pasiphae, and the vengeful, vain player, Poseidon. We saw no development, nor anything to make you feel deeply towards the characters, except maybe for Pasiphae, only in her deteriorating state.

What really irritated me about this book was that the poetry, which is what would have made this book stand out from the rest, was extremely sub-par. It was only salvaged (barely) by the very original take on the story, from the Minotaur’s perspective. In Greek Mythology, the Minotaur is rarely, if ever, called Asterion, his given name. This dehumanizes him, and the novel lets you see the creature as who he really is — a boy, loved by his mother, brutally disfigured, a laughing stock to the gods, and demonized by his stepfather, made into a killing machine. Bull lets the reader go deeper into him, which is the only thing I found interesting in this book.

A fair warning: the concept of the novel is sexual, as are most Greek myths. There is no vivid description, but still, the idea is explicit. Curse words are used.

I might suggest some of the following books as an alternative. The Song of Achilles, by Madeline Miller, the Percy Jackson series, (or anything by Rick Riordan) or Quiver or Quicksilver by Stephanie Spinner. Mary Renault also has some more adult novels on Greek mythology.