Books like The Greek Concept of Nature — picked by fans

This book persuasively answers our question why science originated exactly when and where it did: the advent of a unique method of writing, the Greek alphabet, in the context of cosmopolitan democratic societies.

As a result, Greek culture underwent a transition from “orality” to “literacy.” And with that revolution in communications technology came a rewiring of human consciousness. Literacy fostered individual rather than community identity and abstract conceptual rather than concrete narrative thinking. These are the necessary conditions of science as opposed to myth.

Individual thinkers, liberated from the self-proclaimed divinely inspired myth makers, wrote down bold theories about the stuff, forces, and laws of nature, which were available to other individual thinkers not by word of mouth, but in stable visual form, thus inspiring them to formulate better theories. 

A renowned historian of science, Clagett carries the story of Greek science forward all the way to the sixth century CE—a span of 1200 years. From that point in time, Greek science passed into the hands of Islamic scholars who advanced it further, especially the mathematical sciences.

This book is not, like ours, organized chronologically and developmentally but according to modern scientific domains—biology and medicine, mathematics, physics, and astronomy. And it focuses on specific scientific inquiries, while we focus on more general and fundamental things like ontology (what exists), cosmology (the overall structure of the universe), the laws of nature, and the drivers of change and motion.

This book is thus a complement to ours in its wide historical sweep and in what it highlights.

What impressed me the most was the idea that our reality could be a mathematical structure. This book made me appreciate physics—which I hated in school—and view reality from a different perspective. It inspired my imagination, and although it's a nonfiction, popular science book, it was a great read that sometimes left me with bated breath. In a strange way, the ideas reminded me of Zen philosophy and Taoist qi energy, as if astrophysics were proving these ancient intuitions, which I like to call 'forgotten knowledge.'

A follower of Socrates, Plato is best known today for his moral and political philosophy. But, unlike Socrates, he was also deeply engaged in natural philosophy.

Plato, however, differed sharply from all the others: he contended that the cosmos was created by a divine craftsman as “a moving image of eternity.” We treat Plato as a cryptic member of the Pythagorean School. And in Timaeus he expounds an ancient form of mathematical physics.

He correlates the four ancient elements—fire, earth, air, and water—with four of the five regular stereometric figures: the pyramid, cube, octahedron, and icosahedron, respectively. These constitute the mathematical—as opposed to material—atoms composing the four classical elements. And Plato correlates the fifth regular solid, the dodecahedron, with the form of the universe as a whole.

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.

I adored The Half God of Rainfall’s daring: a new free-verse epic crafted from ancient Yoruba and Greek mythology by Inua Ellams, a poet and playwright, who has also adapted it for theatre. It tells the story of Demi, the son of Modúpé, a mortal woman and the Greek god Zeus. Ellams does not shy away from Zeus’s canonical role as a violent sexual predator and the tale of Demi’s rise and fall as a basketball player, half god, and half mortal culminates in the overthrowing of the patriarchy. Demi’s mother Modúpé, with the aid of the Òrìsà (Yoruban Gods) and other women wronged by him – Leda, Danaë, Europa, Antiope – takes her revenge on the great Zeus himself. 

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.

I can’t write a list of Helen of Troy's many faces without including the most famous source material. Though it’s marketed for children, it’s one of the most faithful and accessible adaptations of the Iliad that I’ve ever read.

I loved the illustrations and how the scenes stayed faithful to those written many centuries ago while still packing an emotional punch to a modern-day reader. The ancient classics that spread orally are all translated retellings, so while there’s definitely value in reading the more academic versions, those aren’t any more or less valid than an accessible text with modern language that pulls you into the story.

I highly recommend it to anyone who wants to know the ins and outs of the original to better appreciate retellings. 

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.

In this witty and intelligent book, broadcaster and novelist Natalie Haynes applies a woman’s mind to stories that in the past have been told to us mostly by men. She presents us with ten female characters who not only feature in ancient myths, but also have starring roles in later paintings, plays, novels, films, operas, and musicals. They include Pandora, Helen, Medusa, Eurydice, and Penelope: whether traditionally seen as victims or villains, all these women are explored in their ‘difficult, messy, murderous’ complexity.