100 Books Like Killer of Men

This has to be one of–if not the–greatest single book I’ve ever read about war in the ancient world. I read the first ten pages, and I was interested; then I read the next forty, and I was utterly hooked. As a description of an elite military force holding out against overwhelming odds it fascinated me, but as a human story of the way Spartan society worked to produce those warriors, imbued with heroism, honour and humour in equal amounts I was simply blown away.

It’s fair to say that this book has been my greatest influence all the way through my writing career. I dare anyone with an interest in the genre to read this and then deny that they were informed, entertained, and (perhaps darkly) amused by the story and its payoff. This is God-tier writing, plain and simple, and, not for no reason, the closest thing the… show more.

O’Brien performed some sort of alchemy in turning a previously dry and underpopulated section of the historical fiction genre into literary gold, at once gripping and supremely well-written. One follows the adventures of a Royal Navy Commander and his Irish doctor friend–a man with a secret life–through the war at sea in the Napoleonic era, and I found the balance between naval exploits–Jack Aubrey being a swashbuckler of renown–and period history made for fascinating counter-points.

Over and above that, I loved the way O’Brien built an ensemble cast and proceeded to draw the reader into their lives, making the death of any one of them a personal loss. I know that I benefitted from learning this writing trick and used it myself in my Empire series, and I know at least one other Roman author who did much the same. Wonderful stories that kept me coming back, and this is… show more.

If the other four books I’ve recommended are founded in grim reality, this one’s that guilty pleasure that an ancient world author might not want to be caught reading. But, if war is a timeless and undeniable fact of human existence—and it seems to be right now—then Marko Kloos’s story of men and women at war in the 22nd century, with an enigmatic alien species as the enemy, is pretty much timeless, too.

Yes, there’s a high-tech kit, but it’s never the McGuffin, and the same themes as ever—duty, honor, and the planet—come to the fore. Easy to read but never lazy, I found this series as gripping as the others. If you (like me) read a lot of historical fiction but have a soft spot for sci-fi, then this is about as highly recommended as they come.

I came across this book while researching why the US Army (and Marines) struggled so badly in the Vietnam War. As with all the books I’m recommending here, it spoke to me of how men go to war for their duty but stay at war for their brothers.

It speaks volumes of the frustrations and contradictions of a war in which an American generation skewed to the poor and racially discriminated against was sent to fight a highly motivated army of liberation and paid the price for their obedience. And told me more about what really happened in the valleys of that benighted country than any history book could.

I read it cover to cover and then read it again, eagerly consuming its truth at a time when the scars were so fresh that the truth was barely starting to emerge, and I commend it to you both as a… show more.

I love Xenophon's Anabasis, and it’s part of the reason I devoted my life to ancient Greece. Imagine a mercenary army who’ve gone to help in someone else’s war. They get trapped, their leaders are killed, and now they have to fight their way home. That’s Xenophon’s Anabasis, or Journey Up Country, written by a man who lived through it, essentially inventing a new genre of writing as he did so.

It’s a brutal read in some ways, as a lot of terrible things happen, but it’s also a story of survival and adventure. It’s a rip-roaring insight into what it was like to go on a campaign in antiquity and what it was like to be part of an ancient army in extraordinary circumstances.  

Barry Strauss is among the best writers ever to address the history of ancient Greece and Rome. In this exciting book, Strauss retells the great battle of Salamis – the naval battle that turned the tide of the Greek-Persian wars of the early fifth century BCE and inaugurated the Athenian Golden Age. He does so through the eyes of a wide range of those who participated in the battle – on both sides. This is military history that attends closely to the human element, and that reminds us that at various points in the past, the future of the world hung in the balance – and that the result was never foreordained. 

I read this years ago; it's one of the reasons I began writing historical romance novels. It's the story of Aspasia, a woman in ancient Greece. She's educated in a selective school for courtesans, beautiful, groomed for pleasure, and bought by a Persian man who comes seeking a courtesan from this famous establishment. He takes Aspasia back to Persia. Eventually, she is freed and returns to Athens, where she meets Pericles. Inspired in part by his love of Aspasia, Pericles initiated the building of the famous Acropolis in ancient Greece. 

I was fortunate to visit Athens after reading Glory and the Lightning, and standing on the Acropolis, I found myself thinking of Pericles and Aspasia, real people who lived and loved over 2,000 years ago. (And yes, I may have gotten a lump in my throat and one or two tears threatened.)

I opened up this book as a skeptic–how interesting could a history of this ubiquitous writing tool be? However, I quickly ate my words (a fitting metaphor for such a book) after diving into Henry Petroski’s meticulously researched and easy to read tale of how a common thing becomes common in the first place.

While the book is a study in engineering, it’s also a story of people who doodle, think, design, and imagine. Petroski taught me that much as we live in a digital age, we’re indebted to the simple and impressively designed artifacts that stick around century after century. 

Williams was one of the most creative and engaging moral philosophers of the 20th century. He was a student at Oxford of E.R. Dodds. While Dodds reminded his readers of how strange the Greeks are to us, in terms of their religious practices, Williams reminds us that the Greeks are also very like us in the moral problems they confronted. Rejecting the idea that modern people have given up on “shame” in favor of “guilt,” Williams showed that we still share the same concerns as the conflicted characters of Greek tragedy – like them, for good and for ill, we gain our sense of ourselves and our moral worth from the reactions of the those around us. 

Coincidentally this scholarly collection of essays appeared in the same year as my 2nd Book Pick. The original versions of the papers were delivered at ‘Penn’ (the University of Pennsylvania, Professor Rosen’s home) at the second ‘Penn-Leiden Colloquium on Ancient Values’ (Leiden being Prof. Sluiter’s base). Free speech had two distinct terms and expressions in ancient Greece, one more expansive than the other. Parrhesia could be understood as frankness of expression, not necessarily political. Isegoria, on the other hand, was narrowly political and applied only to adult male free citizens: it’s best translated exactly as equal freedom of public political speech. One reviewer of the collection picked up on the existence of a rivalry between an official/state version of historical facts and the—more truthful—version given by an individual writer, explicitly referencing Salman Rushdie.