97 Books Like Ariadne

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.

I found this vivid retelling of the Trojan War, based on the Iliad and the Odyssey from prominent and less-known women, interspersed with Calliope's commentary, engaging and relatable. Natalie Haynes, the author of other Homer-inspired stories, tells it skillfully and from a feminist POV. I enjoyed reading this well-crafted book elevating the voice of women based on original works that promote male heroes. Wonderful world-building!

Incidentally, the author has an interesting background, a Cambridge education in classics, a career with the BBC and another as a comedian. I also enjoyed interviews, speeches and material related to Haynes (utube) whose writing is fluid and relatable.

The ‘girls’ are the Trojan women, voiceless in Homer’s Iliad except, briefly, Andromache, Cassandra, and Hecuba.

Women drive the plot, from Helen, the Spartan queen abducted by the Trojan prince Paris, who is blamed for starting it, to Briseis, the Trojan captive Agamemnon takes from Achilles, but they say little.

Most of the chapters in Silence of the Girls are first-person in Briseis’ voice, with interspersed third-person chapters focusing on Achilles and Patroclus. We see the war from a broad, realistic perspective, but the tragedy in the center is of the women—as the Greek playwright Euripides recognizes in his play ‘The Trojan Women’ among others.

Pat Barker gives us the full, moving story in this novel and its sequels, The Women of Troy and The Voyage Home.

The story drew me in for it is written from a point of view I had not encountered before. Set in patriarchal Sparta and Mycenae, the heroine emerges from a world where women had little agency.

She is presented as a likable, innocent youth who evolves into a formidable woman, righting wrongs with strength and might. Clytemnestra’s power and accomplishments kept me in in awe as her journey unfolds without divine interventions. She faces numerous challenges head on, in a matter-of-fact way.

This story is not for the faint of heart, as there is plenty of violence that runs through it. Hard, strong, and decisive, she is an overwhelming character who engages with the notable men of her time, refusing to relinquish her independence.

This book is about being brave. You know when a problem grows into a huge scary monster, right? It’s got you cornered and you don't think you'll ever get out alive, but with the right attitude, you can. Our hero Phoenix is braver than his years, but in some ways he’s more grown-up than his dad. In this retelling of the ancient Greek story of the minotaur, who crushes mortals and eats them for breakfast, we step into a monstrous virtual world created by Phoenix’s dad. I wanted to run, but most of all I wanted to stay and see what happened next. Will the minotaur eat Phoenix alive? I related to Phoenix trying to survive and trying to work out his issues with his dad, because every one of us has to face the same difficult world and be courageous about it.

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.

Set against a beautiful, violent landscape, The Door in the Mountain is the story of Ariadne, a young princess navigating her culture’s customs and her personal responsibilities. In Ariadne’s world, the course of one’s life is determined by whether one has a “godmark” – a special gift or ability granted by the heavens. Ariadne desperately wants to be godmarked like her brother and parents. That desperation fuels a mean streak that, at times, turns to downright cruelty. Caitlin Sweet is a master of characterization, and as a reader, I can’t help but sympathize with Ariadne’s longing to fit in with her family – to be considered their equal in all aspects – even when her words and actions are despicable to those around her. 

Vernant was an influential scholar when I began writing about women in ancient Greece in the 1990s. His discussions of the social, political and religious institutions of the time, and their relationship with popular mythology, were informed by French structuralist theory.  For me his analysis of the role of marriage in a society devoted to virgin goddesses was particularly stimulating.

An absolutely unique story that takes the mythology of the Greek underworld and gives it a twist (or two). Clo only has her Dad. He’s always been a little different—as has she—but when he disappears and leaves her a ticket for half-passage across the sea, Clo finds herself stranded on a mysterious island with a weaver, a cat, and an odd little boy—Cary, who has secrets of his own. 

I loved the stunning and strange machinations of Clo’s days on the island and working to unravel its hidden truths alongside her. She feels like a friend, and her dawning need to protect Cary is touching and relatable. The writing is beautiful, the imagery haunting, and Clo’s need to understand—and escape, is somehow both urgent and dream-like. Deep thinkers will love this book.

Ancient Roman poet Ovid gives us the definitive versions of nearly 250 different myths, most involving transformations of men and women into beasts, trees, or flowers. If that sounds dull, know that there’s more incest than Game of Thrones and more bloody mutilation than a Quentin Tarantino flick. Some tales, like that of Orpheus and Eurydice, are well-known. Others, like the story of the fleet-footed Atalanta, should be. For anyone interested in writing their own story inspired by Greek myth, Ovid’s Metamorphoses provides an invaluable source of inspiration. Read Allen Mandelbaum’s excellent poetic translation for the most authentic experience.