Collection: Circe Offering the Cup - Reclaiming Power

Circe, daughter of the sun god Helios and the Oceanid nymph Perse, was an enchantress renowned for her vast knowledge of potions and herbs. In John William Waterhouse's 1891 painting "Circe Offering the Cup to Ulysses," we witness a pivotal moment from Homer's Odyssey - but not the moment you might expect. Here, Circe extends her magical potion to Ulysses (Odysseus), having already transformed his crew into pigs. What appears in Homer's tale is that Ulysses drinks the potion, but it fails to work - he had received the herb moly from the god Hermes, the only antidote to Circe's magic. After her spell failed, Ulysses drew his sword, and Circe, frightened, begged for mercy.

John William Waterhouse was born in Rome in 1849 and passed away in London in 1917. An English painter of the Victorian era, he became known for his large-scale paintings of classical mythological subjects and was associated with the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. His paintings were distinct for their rich, glowing color and dramatic depictions of women - damsels, enchantresses, and femmes fatales. He studied at the Royal Academy of Art in London beginning in 1871, initially pursuing sculpture before switching to painting by 1874. He was honored as an associate member of the Royal Academy in 1885 and became a full Royal Academician in 1895. Many consider him "the modern Pre-Raphaelite" for bringing the movement's vibrant colors and intricate detail into the late Victorian and Edwardian periods.

For centuries, Circe has been used in the Odyssey as a negative example of how women might behave if not properly controlled - she was described as lustrous, deceitful, a temptress meant to warn readers against excess pleasure. She was feared more for being a free woman living without male authority than for being a sorceress. She represented male anxiety about female power, destined to be vanquished in the original myth. But like so many women throughout history, she refused to stay in that limiting narrative.

In 2018, author Madeline Miller published "Circe," a novel that retells the story from the goddess's perspective - a bold feminist reimagining that became a New York Times bestseller. Miller wanted to explore how Circe carved out an independent life in a world that did not give women their independence or power, sending her on her own Odyssey to create the home she longed for. Miller's Circe begins not as powerful and defiant, but as meek and overshadowed - an undesired minor goddess with neither beauty nor power. Only through discovering witchcraft and being banished to the island of Aeaea does she find the independence and freedom to grow into her own, emphasizing her endurance and strength of will.

Even when facing oppression and the odds stacked against us, women prevail. We carve out power in a world designed to deny it. We transform narratives written to silence us. In the original story, yes, Circe's magic failed against Ulysses - but she survived, she endured, and she lived independently on her island for centuries. She remained one of the very few women in mythology allowed to live independently, to have power, and to not be ultimately punished for it.

The lesson from Circe is multifaceted: Sometimes the greatest act of power is simply existing on your own terms. Sometimes strength means surviving attempts to diminish you. Sometimes resistance is building your own sanctuary when the world tries to exile you. Circe didn't need to overpower Ulysses to be powerful - her true strength lay in her knowledge, her independence, and her refusal to disappear.

Miller's novel has been praised as a feminist retelling that never distorts the original myths but illuminates details we hadn't noticed before, giving Circe agency, desires, and a captivating backstory. This new representation of Circe is just one of many representations of how women reclaim their narratives. Even in one of the most well-known stories across the world, a woman who was originally portrayed as lustrous, deceitful, a distraction representing greed and indulgence, has overcome that narrative to become a feminist figure of empowerment.

We are told our power is dangerous. We are told our independence is threatening. We are told our magic - whether literal or metaphorical - must be controlled. But like Circe, we persist. We find our strength. We build our own islands of autonomy. And we rewrite the stories that were meant to contain us.

This collection features Waterhouse's "Circe Offering the Cup to Ulysses" (1891) on tees, hoodies, and tote bags - a reminder that even when they try to write us as villains, we can reclaim our power and tell our own stories.