I, Medusa Review: The Medusa Story That Made Me Cry
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From the very first page of I, Medusa, you understand Meddy’s rage.
Not because she is cruel.
Not because she is destined to become a monster.
But because the world around her keeps proving that it will never truly treat her fairly.
Ayanna Gray’s Greek mythology retelling doesn’t rush Medusa’s transformation. Instead, it slowly lays out every moment that builds her anger. Every injustice. Each betrayal. Every time Meddy is reminded that the choices shaping her life were never truly hers to make. Never hers to hold.
By the time she becomes Medusa, the terrifying truth is unavoidable.
She didn’t start as a monster.
She was made into one.
But the question begs to be asked:
And what if we listened to Medusa before she became Medusa?
Title: I, Medusa
Author: Ayanna Gray
Publisher: Random House
Format: eARC
Genre: Mythology, Fantasy, Historical Fiction, Retellings, Greek Mythology
Release Date: November 18, 2025
Pages: 336
Star Rating: 5 stars
Spice Rating: 0 chili peppers
I, Medusa is a furious, heartbreaking Medusa retelling that made me ache for the girl behind the monster.
Ayanna Gray layers Meddy’s rage with sharp emotional precision, showing how betrayal, victim blaming, and the cruelty of gods shape her transformation into Medusa. The prose is lush, the worldbuilding is immersive, and the pacing builds with purpose through each section of her descent.
If you love Greek mythology retellings that reclaim women history turned into monsters, this one is worth your time.
A Girl Who Was Never Meant to Matter
Meddy grows up as the odd one out in her family.
Her parents are minor gods.
Her sisters are immortal.
She is the only mortal among them.
That difference shapes everything about her life. While her sisters move through the world with the quiet confidence of immortality, Meddy understands that her life will be shorter, smaller, and far more fragile.
She wants something more than the quiet island life expected of her. She wants purpose. Adventure. A chance to matter.
So when the goddess Athena notices her and invites her to train as a priestess in Athens, Meddy leaps at the opportunity.
Finally, she believes she might step out of the margins of someone else’s story.
For a while, she does.
Within the temple and the bustling streets of Athens, Meddy begins to flourish. She becomes Athena’s favored acolyte, gaining confidence, influence, and the intoxicating feeling that she might actually have control over her life.
The worldbuilding deepens that sense of possibility. Gray paints Athens with lush detail, from the movement of the marketplace to the quiet hierarchy within Athena’s temple.
But what makes the setting feel so immersive is the way it unfolds alongside Meddy’s growing awareness of the world. As she beigns to understand the power structure around her, the reader sees more clearly how the gods, the temple, and the expectation placed on women all shape the lives beneath them.
But that illusion of control shatters the moment another god notices.
Poseidon.
The Moment Everything Changes
What happens next is the turning point of Meddy’s life.
A drunken encounter between a god and a girl spirals into violence, and the consequences fall entirely on Meddy’s shoulders.
It is one of the clearest examples of victim blaming I have seen in a Greek mythology retelling, and it ignited a rage in me while reading that never fully settled.
Because almost immediately the blame shifts to her.
The expectation becomes that Meddy should carry the responsibility for something she never chose. Something she never wanted.
Even taking into account the mythology and the time period this story reflects, the injustice still burns.
It isn’t fair.
It has never been fair.
Again and again the women in this story are blamed, punished, and discarded for the whims of men. Their suffering becomes something expected. Something inevitable.
And every moment of it adds fuel to the fire growing inside Meddy.
One of the reasons Meddy’s anger lands so hard is because Ayanna’s prose carries that emotion through every page. The writing is lush without becoming heavy, layered with tension that sits just beneath the surface of the story.
You can feel the rage simmering even in quieter scenes. It pulses through the narrative until the moments where it finally erupts feel inevitable rather than shocking.
The Villain No One Talks About
Many readers point to Poseidon as the villain of Medusa’s story.
And yes. He absolutely plays his role, and deserves that reputation.
But the more I sat with this book, the more I kept returning to Athena.
Athena builds Meddy up only to break her down.
She praises her ambition, encourages her pride, teaches her how to navigate power within the temple. Meddy learns how to be bold and capable because Athena shows her what that looks like.
Then Athena punishes her for becoming exactly that.
Her words land like slaps across the face. Praise quickly becomes cutting criticism. The confidence Athena helped build suddenly becomes arrogance that must be punished.
There is a cruelty in the way Athena treats Meddy that feels deliberate. Calculated.
And beneath it all lies something even more unsettling: a goddess who perpetuates the power of men while holding women responsible for the damage they cause.
Athena teaches Meddy how to exist in this world.
Then condemns her for learning too well.
In many ways, Poseidon may ignite the tragedy of Medusa’s story, but it is Athena who sharpens it.
Mortal. Maiden. Mistress. Monster.
The story unfolds in four parts: Mortal, Maiden, Mistress, and Monster.
The pacing working in tandem with the structure. Each section layers onto the one before it with devastating precision. Meddy repeatedly used by the people around her. Allowing Meddy’s experiences to accumulate rather than rushing her transformation.
Her parents see her as a way to elevate their status.
Athena sees her as a tool within the temple.
The gods see her as something disposable.
Over and over again she is reminded that her value lies in what she can provide for someone else.
That she is a pawn.
A means to an end.
And slowly, the quiet rage inside her begins to grow.
At first it flickers.
Then it burns.
By the time the story reaches its final section, that anger has become a blazing inferno.
What makes this Medusa retelling so powerful is that you can trace the path of Meddy’s transformation clearly. Every injustice, betrayal, and moment where the choices were taken from her.
Her descent into becoming Medusa doesn’t feel sudden.
It feels inevitable.
And by the time the story reaches its final section, the reader can trace the exact path that brough her there. Every betrayal, every humiliation, every moment where the world reminds her she is powerless stacks onto the last until the anger inside her comes impossible to contain.
When the Monster Becomes the Protector
As Meddy begins to embrace the identity forced upon her, something shifts. The monster the world created becomes something else entirely.
A protector.
Women who have been blamed, abused, and discarded begin to see Medusa not as something terrifying, but as something wholly necessary.
The world may have turned her into a monster.
But she chooses what that monster will become.
And that reframes the entire myth.
The Ending…It Broke Me
By the time I reached the end of this mythology retelling, I was crying.
Not quiet tears.
The kind where you’re trying to hold them back and failing.
Because beneath the myth and the magic is a girl who deserves better.
Better parents.
Mentors.
Better gods.
And watching the world repeatedly deny her those things is devastating.
When Meddy finally understands the lessons life has forced upon her, the grief of it is overwhelming.
I wept for her.
Truly.
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Who Is This For?
You should absolutely read I, Medusa if you love:
- Greek mythology retellings that center women’s voices
- emotionally intense character driven stories
- lush, layered historical fiction novels rooted in myth
- books about feminine rage, injustice, and reclaiming power
- authors like Madeline Miller, Natalie Haynes, and Jennifer Saint
This historical fiction novel may not work for readers who:
- want fast paced plot driven mythology
- prefer clear heroes and villains
- struggle with stories centered on systemic injustice and victim blaming
Because I, Medusa sits directly inside those uncomfortable truths. And refuses to look away.
I, Medusa is not simply a retelling of a famous myth. It is the story of how monsters are made.
Ayanna Gray takes the Medusa we think we know and forces us to look at the girl behind the legend.
And once you see Meddy clearly, it becomes impossible not to mourn her.
I know I did.
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