I received an advance reader’s copy (ARC) of Daedalus Is Dead by Seamus Sullivan. Since this version is just a proof and not the final version, I won’t quote directly and will keep my comments general.

Daedalus Is Dead follows the titular mythological character, as he awakens in the Underworld after a life of fear and loss. Forced to confront his past, from King Minos to the Minotaur to the memories of his son Icarus, Daedalus grows increasingly horrified. It might be that the story he’s told himself about his life for all these years is not, in fact, the same one that others see. And perhaps he isn’t a heroic figure after all.

As a fan of mythology and of odd novellas, I liked this book well enough. I read it basically in one sitting and found it very affecting. I don’t think someone unfamiliar with Greek mythology, particularly with the myths of the Minotaur and of Icarus, would get as much out of this story, though. However, the themes are still very strong, independent of the context. I get the sense that, for the author, the mythological backdrop serves as a metaphorical landscape in which to explore the concepts of fatherhood, masculinity, grief, and memory. And maybe that’s why Sullivan chose Daedalus to be the main character in this; Greek mythology has proven its staying power again and again, and it isn’t fading from relevance any time soon, so this character works as a vessel for these themes.

Is Daedalus likeable? No, not exactly. He’s interesting, a clever inventor and architect, with great love for his son and therefore great grief at his death. In that sense, you feel for him as he deals with the loss of Icarus and the guilt over what he did to Asterion (the Minotaur’s birth name), who was technically a child when placed in the Labyrinth. However, as the story goes on and Daedalus speaks to more people in the Underworld, the more the curtain is drawn back, the more alternate interpretations are given.

In the flashback scenes set during the events of the myths, the reader is locked closely into Daedalus’ perspective, a sort of narrative tunnel vision. But then, in the present timeline, his own interpretation of those events is continually challenged, making the reader see his account in a new light. It’s pretty fascinating to watch his sense of self and reality put to the test like this, which I suppose is quite appropriate for a punishment in the Greek Underworld. And by calling attention to just how unreliable Daedalus’ narration has been, Sullivan highlights how subjective perception and memory can be, and how the stories—and often, the lies—that a person tells themself can shape and twist their reality.

In the end, while Daedalus Is Dead isn’t a fun or easy read (other than in its short length), it’s a cerebral and intriguing examination of a familiar character—yet is also an examination of much more than that. The Underworld’s dreamlike yet ominous atmosphere (reminiscent of the setting of Piranesi to me) lends itself well to the treacherous internal landscape that Daedalus has to navigate. This book is quite dark and thoughtful, and I can see a lot of people really liking it. It definitely demonstrates the power and potential of retellings and just why these myths are still so significant, even today. In fact, with its themes of truth and grief, memory and masculinity, it might even be more significant today in the “Western” world than ever before.

Daedalus Is Dead will be published on September 30th, 2025!