100 Books Like A Thousand Ships

I thought it was great to have Circe herself narrate her love affair with Odysseus.

The first half of the novel interestingly shares her tribulations growing up as a child in a family of gods. I found that this establishes a theme of immortality vs. mortality that the book explores in profound ways. Especially fascinating was Circe’s personal story of her love affair with Odysseus.

I was surprised and delighted that Miller included the resulting child, Telegonus, who is not in Homer but is in ancient myth. Even more surprising to me was Circe falling in love with Telemachus, Odysseus’ son by Penelope (also not in Homer!). This relationship allows the novel to end on a positive note as Circe learns to live like a mortal in her new life with Telemachus.

Although this is not Mary Renault’s first novel set in Bronze Age Greece, it’s a classic.

She retells the story of Theseus in his own words, but not as a simple hero tale. Set long before the Trojan War, much takes place in Minoan Crete where Theseus performs his first heroic act.

Renault depicts the advanced Minoan culture and Mother Goddess religion intriguingly and gives fresh interpretations, from the character of Theseus himself to the Minotaur in the Labyrinth and what follows.

First read while I was a college student (not for a class), this book inspired me to one day create my own mythic retelling.

Ever since reading this book, I *can’t* think of the original version of the Iliad without referencing his haunting retelling from Patroclus’ perspective. Miller did such an incredible job putting me in the story and making the characters so real that I actively missed them when I put the book down.

It doesn’t hurt that it has some of the most beautiful poetic language I’ve encountered in story form. Helen is more of a background character playing her classic role, but I was still fascinated because Miller plays on the demigod aspect of both Helen and Achilles in a way that makes them steal any scene they’re in. There’s a quiet power to them that transcends the page.    

I love the bravery of this book. It’s not easy for academics to send work into the world that is authentic, imaginative, and academically solid. Cooney gives readers a peak behind the curtains, showing us what life might have been like for ancient Egypt’s most renowned female pharaoh, Hatshepsut.

Immersive and informative, with lovely prose and, best of all, thought-provoking. 

In many ways, this book started my writing career. I picked up this novel in an airport on the way to our honeymoon destination and found myself so inspired by Margaret George’s wonderfully emotive writing that I dreamed of writing a book.

I was also inspired by the tragic ancient queen whose war with Rome changed the course of Western civilization. Love her or hate her, Cleopatra is the most famous woman in history, and this novel beautifully illustrates her bravery, intelligence, and romantic heart.

It’s dramatic, well-researched, and a big, beautiful saga that you can sink into.

Hand of Fire was one of the first books to truly win me over on Achilles as a real hero worthy of romanticism and admiration. Starkston’s exploration of Briseis’s character and her relationship to and with Achilles is so well-wrought, pulling both from the Hittites (the empire in which Briseis was born) and the Greek mythology and archeology. The way she weaves the two cultures together to create this story, priming Briseis for Achilles’s arrival to create a narrative that gives Briseis both power and agency is absolutely masterful. I loved that Starkston didn’t shy away from the supernatural hallmarks of the Iliad, either, allowing the gods and their direct influence to breathe inside her retelling of the Trojan War.

Margaret George is a preeminent writer of historical fiction—big, authoritative novels focusing on remarkable, famous people, as her 2006 Helen of Troy demonstrates. She covers Helen’s life from girlhood through the Trojan War and back to Sparta. She builds a full depiction of ancient Greek life, which always makes me happy, but George is most compelling with her characters. George’s interpretations often break with tradition, and that is true for Helen and Paris. Helen disdains her extraordinary beauty and must grow into visionary insights and outsized passions with guidance from the gods. If you want a genuinely heroic Paris (not his usual wimpiness) and a couple who cleave to each other to the end, this is the Helen book for you. George’s skill holds your attention through it all.

Carosella offers another, refreshing take on Helen. This Helen takes control of her life and tries to defy fate (and the gods do their darndest, as usual in Greek mythology, to make her and everyone else miserable). Carosella’s engaging novel develops the characters’ jealousies, passions, and loyalties, as well as bringing the reader directly into the ancient Greek world. I enjoyed the sense of interconnectedness between different parts of this Greek and Mediterranean world, Troy, Sparta, Egypt, Mycenae, and Athens. This accurately reflects the current understanding of this exotic world. I appreciate a flexible view of all the legendary mythology surrounding this iconic war, and Carosella has flexed some impressive muscle.

If a racially diverse, gender-bending, often raunchy, always nuanced, new take on an old tale sounds like a good read to you, then pick up this “novel-in-parts.” Both the racial and sexual fullness reflect historical reality, although they’ve ordinarily been left out. Retelling the Trojan War from its early causes to its tragic but still hope-infused end, the authors gave this rendition a compelling depth that will make you savor the old tradition with some new spice on your tongue.

It is always delightful to read this re-telling of the Odyssey by the esteemed Canadian author Margaret Atwood.

I found the voice of Penelope as the narrator of her own story most effective. The set-up of Penelope as a shade in the underworld who dishes the dirt on what really happened when Odysseus returned home seemed very clever to me. Penelope is witty and humorous in her sceptical, if fond, description of her hero’s antics, but I also appreciated that the queen continues to wrestle with guilt over the murder of several of her handmaids.