Poetry review – EURYDICE IN THE RUINED HOUSE: Pat Edwards commends Anna Saunders’ use of Greek myth to illuminate contemporary situations
Eurydice in The Ruined House
Anna Saunders
Indigo Dreams Publishing
ISBN 978-1-912876-95-2
£11.50
You may be like me and want to run for the hills at the mention of Greek myth and legend. In my case this is purely down to a regrettable lack of knowledge, not any inherent dislike for the subject. However, I was prepared to put aside my ignorance in order to give this book every chance of reaching me because I trusted Saunders’ track record and decided to commit to doing any research that might be needed.
I was pleased to find at least some gentle background included in the foreword, so that I was armed with enough information to dive straight in. Saunders wants readers to approach the work thinking of the ruined house as a state of mind, our ailing planet, the underworld of Greek mythology, and a squat. This is really helpful, immediately opening our minds to a range of possibilities, many of them relatable.
The first poem poses a number of questions, drawing us further into the possibilities of this realm, and then the next poem, “A Wiki Guide to Ruin”, resembles the perfect modern way of researching what we’re about to encounter, as we would if we were going to visit a new place on a day out or on holiday.
The following series of poems – which, I do feel, are designed to be read as such – ask us to put ourselves in the characters’ shoes. They force us to imagine their situation, their emotions, their motives. The ruined house feels very fluid,
The ruined house is the epidermis
The ruined house is the psyche
The ruined house is flesh and stone
The ruined house is bricks and bone
These clashing perspectives and tensions are surely familiar to us all, part of the fabric of our own lives, and they remind us how tricky it is to navigate everyday happenings both trivial and more challenging. Saunders asks some extraordinary questions in the poem”‘Have you Ever?”,
Have you ever felt as bare as beads in a rosary?
Have you ever felt naked as a gnawed bone?…
Have you ever grasped flesh as an anchor?
Has emptiness ever almost taken you off the earth?
The questions are unsteadying, disarming, and leave readers anxious. The whole notion of Tantalus, with his fate being always to find food and drink teasingly beyond his reach, draws us towards thoughts of the climate emergency and the prospect of migration and war on an international scale. The theme of survival, and how any of us would behave if forced to face the moral and emotional dilemmas this might throw at us, becomes very apparent. Saunders particularly asks us to consider how love helps or hinders in a crisis, how seeking pleasure and courting hedonism continue to be our downfall. Saunders imagines Dionysus, god of wine and fertility, in ‘a rough club’ where there is darkness and drinking. She pictures Eurydice, tragic lover of Orpheus, in a mosh pit while he plays his wild music, ‘beneath his feet/a mass of bodies with a single mind’.
These fated encounters, where lovers meet on a drunken night out, seem familiar, real and deeply believable. Perhaps that is why Greek mythology still interests us after centuries, because it mimics stories and situations that persist even now. The path of love is always a trial, riddled with difficulties, often destined to end as ‘the flame flutters’ and ‘there are no auspicious stars’. Eventually gold, money and other desires creep in.
The reader cannot help but notice echoes of Biblical tales. Take the poem “Similes for the Snake” with its dire warnings of temptation moving ‘lithe and pliable as rope into a knot’. Always Eurydice is party to pitfalls and complications, often getting blamed, called ‘the devil’s flower’ when maybe she is ‘an entire galaxy in spiralling form’.
In amongst poems that fill the page, regular in size, are some very short poems with as few as four or six lines. I always think such poems have two jobs – they can be bridges or statements that maybe summarise what has gone before or preview what might come next. They are often powerful and telling, helping the reader grasp essential truths. There are two poems, on facing pages, which do this very well – “His Grip” and “Like a Bruise”. The first concludes that Eurydice ‘should have expected this’, suggesting women should be more attuned to the ways of men. The second is a further warning about perceived female vulnerability. Maybe this is Saunders using a touch of irony, readers will have to judge. Similarly, two more observations ‘what if she only had herself to blame?’ and ‘some girls never learn’ may be further irony designed to call out the practice of victim blaming. And once again readers must decide for themselves.
A poem that I particularly admire is “Going Under in the Ruined House”. Here the poet uses phrases with words separated by dashes or hyphens. The effect is interesting, almost creating a new meaning, certainly drawing attention to the whole phrase by linking its individual parts. The poem makes me think of a world sleepwalking into the climate emergency, ‘sleep, what a see-no-evil, hear-no-evil/speak-no-evil-monkey sleep’. It also predicts the inevitable demise of Orpheus. Until this point, the emphasis has been on Eurydice’s faults but, finally, we remember that it takes two to tango! In “Orpheus’ Death”, the gods are in control and laugh ‘at a man believing he holds his fate in his own hands.’ In “Atropos (of the Fates) Speaks”, playing ‘Russian roulette forever’ is clearly not a realistic strategy. One of Saunders’ very short poems follows and sums things up nicely,
My blades are sharp
and the threads of life are thin,
thinks Atropos as she cuts.
Just as Saunders used the trope of an imagined Wikipedia search at the beginning of the book, so she uses the idea of a survey near the end. She invites readers to ‘rate Eros…on his ability’ and welcomes ‘your feedback’, asking us to ‘please answer the following questions.’
So, what have we learned from the myth, about our own minds, about ruins, and the fate of our planet? Saunders wonders if ‘the ruin/[is] more enchanting than the intact.’ Eurydice ‘doesn’t want the fissure/in her psyche to seal.’ Even if the earth is burning, as evidenced by heatwaves and forest fires, ‘the thirsty earth waits’ because there is always hope, a chance for redemption. As in the damage we do to one another in our relationships, there is always hope that opening ourselves up to the next one may bring new joy. To be closed to every possibility, to never risk our dreams, is to imagine there is no truth in the belief that ‘the self flourishes from a wound.’ Saunders has made me change my mind about using Greek mythology to re-imagine modern life and current troubles because it seems there is nothing new under the sun. Just ask the gods if you dare.
Jul 8 2025
London Grip Poetry Review – Anna Saunders
Poetry review – EURYDICE IN THE RUINED HOUSE: Pat Edwards commends Anna Saunders’ use of Greek myth to illuminate contemporary situations
You may be like me and want to run for the hills at the mention of Greek myth and legend. In my case this is purely down to a regrettable lack of knowledge, not any inherent dislike for the subject. However, I was prepared to put aside my ignorance in order to give this book every chance of reaching me because I trusted Saunders’ track record and decided to commit to doing any research that might be needed.
I was pleased to find at least some gentle background included in the foreword, so that I was armed with enough information to dive straight in. Saunders wants readers to approach the work thinking of the ruined house as a state of mind, our ailing planet, the underworld of Greek mythology, and a squat. This is really helpful, immediately opening our minds to a range of possibilities, many of them relatable.
The first poem poses a number of questions, drawing us further into the possibilities of this realm, and then the next poem, “A Wiki Guide to Ruin”, resembles the perfect modern way of researching what we’re about to encounter, as we would if we were going to visit a new place on a day out or on holiday.
The following series of poems – which, I do feel, are designed to be read as such – ask us to put ourselves in the characters’ shoes. They force us to imagine their situation, their emotions, their motives. The ruined house feels very fluid,
These clashing perspectives and tensions are surely familiar to us all, part of the fabric of our own lives, and they remind us how tricky it is to navigate everyday happenings both trivial and more challenging. Saunders asks some extraordinary questions in the poem”‘Have you Ever?”,
The questions are unsteadying, disarming, and leave readers anxious. The whole notion of Tantalus, with his fate being always to find food and drink teasingly beyond his reach, draws us towards thoughts of the climate emergency and the prospect of migration and war on an international scale. The theme of survival, and how any of us would behave if forced to face the moral and emotional dilemmas this might throw at us, becomes very apparent. Saunders particularly asks us to consider how love helps or hinders in a crisis, how seeking pleasure and courting hedonism continue to be our downfall. Saunders imagines Dionysus, god of wine and fertility, in ‘a rough club’ where there is darkness and drinking. She pictures Eurydice, tragic lover of Orpheus, in a mosh pit while he plays his wild music, ‘beneath his feet/a mass of bodies with a single mind’.
These fated encounters, where lovers meet on a drunken night out, seem familiar, real and deeply believable. Perhaps that is why Greek mythology still interests us after centuries, because it mimics stories and situations that persist even now. The path of love is always a trial, riddled with difficulties, often destined to end as ‘the flame flutters’ and ‘there are no auspicious stars’. Eventually gold, money and other desires creep in.
The reader cannot help but notice echoes of Biblical tales. Take the poem “Similes for the Snake” with its dire warnings of temptation moving ‘lithe and pliable as rope into a knot’. Always Eurydice is party to pitfalls and complications, often getting blamed, called ‘the devil’s flower’ when maybe she is ‘an entire galaxy in spiralling form’.
In amongst poems that fill the page, regular in size, are some very short poems with as few as four or six lines. I always think such poems have two jobs – they can be bridges or statements that maybe summarise what has gone before or preview what might come next. They are often powerful and telling, helping the reader grasp essential truths. There are two poems, on facing pages, which do this very well – “His Grip” and “Like a Bruise”. The first concludes that Eurydice ‘should have expected this’, suggesting women should be more attuned to the ways of men. The second is a further warning about perceived female vulnerability. Maybe this is Saunders using a touch of irony, readers will have to judge. Similarly, two more observations ‘what if she only had herself to blame?’ and ‘some girls never learn’ may be further irony designed to call out the practice of victim blaming. And once again readers must decide for themselves.
A poem that I particularly admire is “Going Under in the Ruined House”. Here the poet uses phrases with words separated by dashes or hyphens. The effect is interesting, almost creating a new meaning, certainly drawing attention to the whole phrase by linking its individual parts. The poem makes me think of a world sleepwalking into the climate emergency, ‘sleep, what a see-no-evil, hear-no-evil/speak-no-evil-monkey sleep’. It also predicts the inevitable demise of Orpheus. Until this point, the emphasis has been on Eurydice’s faults but, finally, we remember that it takes two to tango! In “Orpheus’ Death”, the gods are in control and laugh ‘at a man believing he holds his fate in his own hands.’ In “Atropos (of the Fates) Speaks”, playing ‘Russian roulette forever’ is clearly not a realistic strategy. One of Saunders’ very short poems follows and sums things up nicely,
Just as Saunders used the trope of an imagined Wikipedia search at the beginning of the book, so she uses the idea of a survey near the end. She invites readers to ‘rate Eros…on his ability’ and welcomes ‘your feedback’, asking us to ‘please answer the following questions.’
So, what have we learned from the myth, about our own minds, about ruins, and the fate of our planet? Saunders wonders if ‘the ruin/[is] more enchanting than the intact.’ Eurydice ‘doesn’t want the fissure/in her psyche to seal.’ Even if the earth is burning, as evidenced by heatwaves and forest fires, ‘the thirsty earth waits’ because there is always hope, a chance for redemption. As in the damage we do to one another in our relationships, there is always hope that opening ourselves up to the next one may bring new joy. To be closed to every possibility, to never risk our dreams, is to imagine there is no truth in the belief that ‘the self flourishes from a wound.’ Saunders has made me change my mind about using Greek mythology to re-imagine modern life and current troubles because it seems there is nothing new under the sun. Just ask the gods if you dare.