GLORIOUS EXPLOITS

A lightly historical novel about two friends and a quixotic theatrical project.

Lampo is 30, unemployed, living with his mom, hanging with his best friend, Gelon, and frequently torn between self-pity and self-indulgence. He’d work well in a buddy film, except that Lampo lives in the town of Syracuse on the island of Sicily some 400 years before the dawn of the Christian Era. For his debut, Dublin-born Lennon taps a few lines from The History of the Peloponnesian War, in which Thucydides writes of how defeated Athenian soldiers were imprisoned in Syracuse’s quarries. As Lampo narrates the tale, Gelon, who’s “mad for Euripides,” proposes to stage his Medea in one of the quarries, using the prisoners as actors. The obstacles aren’t small. The Athenians are purposely underfed and close to starvation. Lampo and Gelon are low on drachmae for costumes and backdrops, not to mention food and drink to keep their cast from that final exit. And attendance is doubtful since most Syracusans hate the invaders from Athens. Lennon initially dwells on the humor in these production struggles (Lampo’s squandering of food money on clothes, coiffure, and general showing off is a delightful episode). He traces Lampo’s growth in self-awareness while moving what seems at first to be a frivolous tale into ever darker waters. He’s economical with period detail and doesn’t shy from anachronisms, like “wreck the buzz.” His subplots bring pointed complications, including Lampo’s love for a barmaid and the usefulness of a wealthy trader. Exploring themes of friendship, loyalty, and the toll of war, Lennon evokes a time when it was common to relish and revere the art of Homer’s poetry and Euripides’ drama. Those with that appetite today are fortunate to have Madeline Miller, Emily Wilson, Pat Barker, and recently James Hynes’ Sparrow. And Lennon.

An entertaining and impressive debut.