Little Hector's Hordes & Swords: 2008

I've always been fascinated with ancient history, and this blog is an ANNOTATED BIBLIOGRAPHY of historical (and mythohistorical) fiction books set in ancient Greece or the Roman Empire. Most of these books are by modern authors, but some fictive works by ancient authors are also included here, as well as pertinent works of nonfiction by both modern and ancient authors. I will add listings several times a year.

You will notice that most of these mini-reviews are positive. This is because I don't bother finishing a book if I don't like it. Life's too short to read books you don't like, especially when you have so little time to read the ones you do like.

I should also say a word about the violence in these books. Most ancient societies were steeped in gruesomeness. War was endemic and resulted in uncountable numbers of gory deaths and disfigurements. Civilians were frequently subjected to the predations of armies and bands of outlaws. Deliberately painful executions and punitive mutilations were legally endorsed by most penal codes. Public ceremonies, even fairly routine ones, often required bloody animal sacrifices. If you read enough ancient historical fiction or nonfiction, you get used to the perpetual violence, but be forewarned: many of these books are not for the squeamish, and some, such as Stonehenge: 2000 B.C. by Bernard Cornwell or Hannibal by Ross Leckie, are uncompromisingly violent but accurately reflect the nature of the societies in which they take place. Both books, incidentally, are highly recommended here, not for their gore factor but for their ability to captivate the reader.
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Books designated with ♥ are most highly recommended. Non-fiction is listed separately after the fiction.

Atwood, Margaret. The Penelopiad (Edinburgh: Knopf Canada, 2005). In this nifty little snippet, Penelope, wife of Odysseus, tells her side of the story of her marriage, her husband’s extended absence, her unpleasant relationship with Helen, and the obnoxious suitors who coveted her and her property. It’s sometimes witty, sometimes sad, and although Atwood obsesses overmuch about the twelve maids executed by Odysseus when he rampaged against the suitors, this a fine book and fun to read.

Baricco, Alessandro. An Iliad (New York: Knopf, 2006). While this is a decent retelling of Homer’s ancient masterpiece, this version is nothing special, and certainly not the epiphenomenon that Baricco claims it is in his lofty introduction. The tale is stripped down, and while there is still plenty of meat here for Trojan War aficionados, Graves, Clarke, Gemmell, McCullough and Parotti have all done better.

Barone, Sam. Dawn of Empire (New York: Morrow, 2006). In this book, set in the 4th millennium B.C.E., the prosperous inhabitants of a Mesopotamian town have to decide if they are willing to make the sacrifices required to defend their town against ruthless nomadic marauders. In the end, the town-dwellers take the unprecedented action of building walls and making a stand, and the action and intrigue carry this story nicely.

Bradshaw, Gillian. The Beacon at Alexandria (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1986). In late 4th century Ephesus, 15-year-old Charis dreams of studying medicine but knows that this is not considered proper for a Roman noblewoman. To avoid an arranged marriage to a sadistic politician, she hides in Alexandria disguised as a eunuch, and her talent for healing lands her an apprenticeship to an amiable but overworked physician. But how long can she keep her secret? Bradshaw makes it all work somehow, and the tale rollicks with action and intrigue.

Bradshaw, Gillian. The Bearkeeper’s Daughter (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1987). The dependable Bradshaw delivers an enjoyable though at times melodramatic story about the long lost bastard son of the empress Theodora, wife of Justinian and co-ruler of the Roman Empire.

Bradshaw, Gillian. Cleopatra’s Heir (New York: Forge, 2002). A touching account of the unlikely friendship between Caesarion, the aristocratic and educated son of Cleopatra, and Ani, a semi-literate but shrewd would-be merchant. Caesarion hides his true identity from Ani, and the relationship becomes complicated when Caesarion meets Ani’s beautiful daughter Melanthe. It’s a riveting story, beautifully told, although Bradshaw’s insistence on a happy ending does stretch the limits of credibility.

Bradshaw, Gillian. Island of Ghosts (New York: Tom Doherty Associates, 1998). An exciting tale of barbarian culture shock in Roman Britain. The Sarmatian nobleman Ariantes must avert a revolt at all costs, knowing that the Romans would slaughter his countrymen to the last man, but in the process risks losing the trust of these same men, who fear he is becoming “Romanized.” ♥

Bradshaw, Gillian. The Sand-Reckoner (New York: Tom Doherty Associates, 2000). A fine read based on the life and eccentricities of the mathematical genius Archimedes. Bradshaw keeps you turning those pages, even though the Syracusan King Hieron comes off as too good to be real.

Breem, Wallace. The Legate’s Daughter (London: Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 2004). In Augustan Rome, the wily wastrel Curtius Rufus is sent to Africa to investigate the kidnapping of a Roman nobleman’s daughter. A decent tale of sex, violence, drinking, and all the other things we love and expect in ancient world fiction.

Burgess, Anthony. Man of Nazareth (McGraw-Hill, 1979). Like Robert Graves in King Jesus, Burgess provides plausible, non-miraculous explanations for some of the events in the life of Christ. Unlike Graves, however, Burgess is clearly a believer: his Christ is divinely sired and virginally conceived, and does indeed rise from the dead. It’s a pretty good read, and it’s always fascinating to compare two authors’ novelizations of the same historical personalities.

Carvalho, Mario de. A God Strolling in the Cool of the Evening (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1997). Translated by Gregory Rabassa. In second century Roman Iberia, the duumvir Lucius Valerius Quintius tries to rule the city of Tarcisis the way his idol, the emperor Marcus Aurelius, would do it. Quintius does his best to act with traditional patrician fairness as he contends with uncooperative subordinates, Moorish raids, unscrupulous rivals, and the troublesome followers of an obscure martyr named Chrestos. Elegantly written and a joy to read.

Clarke, Lindsay. Return from Troy (London: HarperCollins, 2005). Clarke retells The Odyssey here, just as he retold The Iliad in The War at Troy, and in doing so modifies it enough to make it a fascinating read full of suspense and plot twists. His Odysseus has been traumatized by the wholesale slaughter of Trojan civilians, and does not initially want to return to Ithaca because he believes his participation in the atrocities has rendered him morally unfit for gentle Penelope’s love. All in all, this is a fine reworking of Homer.

Clarke, Lindsay. The War at Troy (London: HarperCollins, 2004). It’s a tale many times told, but Clarke breathes some new life into it by making Paris and Menelaos great friends, both at odds with where their cruel fates take them.

Cook, Elizabeth. Achilles (New York: Picador, 2002). An interesting study of the tragic hero of the Trojan War: the book is only partly diminished by its bizarre and pretentious final chapter.

Cooney, Caroline B. Goddess of Yesterday (New York:Lauel Leaf, 2003). Most novelists treat Helen of Troy empathetically or as a semi-tragic figure, victimized by fate and the whims of men and gods, but in this nifty character studyHelen is by no means at the mercy of others. Powerful, vindictive, ruthless, and pettily self-centred, she is far too ambitious for the easygoing Menelaus. In Goddess of Yesterday, Anaxandra, the luckless but resourceful young daughter of a minor Aegean chieftain, draws Helen's ire and spends the rest of the book trying to save her own life. A nice little read.

Cornwell, Bernard. Stonehenge 2000 B.C. (London: HarperCollins, 1999). A gritty, uncompromisingly gruesome tale of internecine power struggles and tribal warfare in prehistoric Britain, when adherence to the gods dominated all human activities. Cornwell maintains a scorching pace here, which makes the book breathtaking and extremely difficult to put down. ♥

Costain, Thomas B. The Darkness and the Dawn (Garden City, New York: Doubleday & C0., 1959). Costain tells a fine tale of revenge and justice in the heyday of the Huns: the ruthless Attila plots to conquer the haughty Romans, who in turn strive to defend an empire of dwindling resources. Well-crafted, but you can tell it was written in the 1950’s: would any modern author refer to “slant-eyed orientals” in the 3rd person narrative? All in all, an enjoyable read.

Dietrich, William. Hadrian's Wall (New York: HarperCollins, 2004). Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Dietrich proves himself a highly proficient storyteller in this energetic tale of war, love, action, and intrigue in late 4th-century Roman Britain. A thriller to the very end.

Dietrich, William. The Scourge of God (New York: HarperCollins, 2005). Dietrich tells the story of the final great battle between Attila the Hun and the Romans, and the result is this enjoyable and action-packed novel. Though the narrative switches somewhat confusingly back and forth from first to third person, this an appropriately chaotic tale of chaotic times, as the legions of the disintegrating Empire make a final heroic stand against the determined Hun.

Doherty, Paul. The Gates of Hell (London: Robinson, 2003). Telamon the physician is assigned by his close childhood friend, Alexander of Macedon, the task of investigating the murder of one of Alexander’s scribes, who was thrown from the window of a second-storey room that was locked from the inside. The scribe was attempting to decode the Pythian Manuscript, which may reveal the location of stupendous treasure and the hidden weakness in the walls of Halicarnassus, which Alexander has been besieging for months. Great fun for mystery lovers.

Durham, David Anthony. Pride of Carthage (New York: Doubleday, 2005). This panoramic, multifaceted telling of the life of the Hannibal is engrossing from start to finish. Durham deftly interweaves several storylines into a single narrative, and highlights how closely the Carthaginian military genius came to destroying Rome. Adventure, intrigue, and scorching battle scenes. ♥

Falconer, Colin. When We Were Gods (New York: Crown, 2000). An interesting study of Cleopatra, who first became a skilful player in Mediterranean politics while still a teenager. But any tale of Cleopatra must end in tragedy: the indomitable but doomed queen of Egypt cannot save her throne or her children from the insatiable Roman juggernaut.

Fast, Howard. Spartacus (London: Bodley Head, 1952). This entertaining account of the Spartacus slave rebellion was the basis for the 1960 Stanley Kubrick film of the same name. Unfortunately, Fast plays down the rebels’ primary motivation, which was plunder, and tries to make them social reformers; his Spartacus ludicrously envisions a classless, pseudo-Marxist society that is ideologically anachronistic and has no factual basis.

Flaubert, Gustave. Salammbo (New York: Penguin, 1977). Set in Carthage after the First Punic War, Salammbo deals with the turmoil of a people whose troubles have only just begun: their loss to the Romans has left them weak, and their predatory African enemies want to take advantage. Flaubert’s story is about the beautiful but sheltered priestess Salammbo, who has a complex involvement with Matho, leader of the mercenaries and Carthage’s most dangerous enemy. The novel is complex, bizarre, and sometimes implausible (for example, a breastplate made from human fingernails would be useless in battle, and would take weeks to make), but certainly not boring.

Ford, Michael Curtis. The Fall of Rome (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2007). Ford, Michael Curtis. The Fall of Rome (New York: Thomas Dunne/St. Martin’s, 2007). Ford’s portrayal of the career of Odoacer, who deposed the last western emperor of Rome, starts with a bang but ends with a fizzle. The early battle scenes are superb, with action so vividly described that you almost feel like you’re there yourself, but in the end we learn very little about Odoacer. Did he marry? Did he have sons? And in the end, his triumph over the Romans, tottering though they were, seems too easy to be true. All in all, the reliable Ford has written a reasonably entertaining book here, but it’s not as good as it could have been.

Ford, Michael Curtis. Gods and Legions (New York: St. Martin’s Paperbacks, 2003). A nifty fictional biography of the Roman emperor Julian, nicknamed ‘the Apostate’ for his attempt to revive pagan religion at a time when Christianity was becoming embedded throughout the Roman domains.

Ford, Michael Curtis. The Last King (New York: St. Martin’s Paperbacks, 2005). Mithridates Eupator VI of Pontus was the late Roman Republic’s greatest enemy, seemingly indestructible even in defeat, and Ford skillfully tells his story from the Pontic viewpoint. Mithridates had the shrewdness to exploit Rome’s internal instability to build up his own Asian domains, and the charisma to summon hundreds of thousands of soldiers to his cause. Highly informative and historically accurate, The Last King captivates the reader. ♥

Ford, Michael Curtis. Sword of Attila (New York: Thomas Dunne, 2005). The impressively consistent and consistently impressive Ford does it again here, with a remarkable telling of the Late Roman Empire’s struggle with its greatest foe, the shrewd, ingenious, and surprisingly well-educated Attila the Hun. The final battle, in which a million-man Hun army meets half a million Romans and their allies, will leave readers breathless. Absolutely stunning. ♥

Ford, Michael Curtis. The Ten Thousand (New York: St. Martin’s Paperbacks, 2001). An outstanding account of Xenophon’s desperate mission to lead 10,000 unprovisioned mercenaries out of Persia, from whence they must march back to Greece impeded by hostile climes and enemy forces on all sides. Truly thrilling. ♥

Fredman, John. The Wolf of Masada (New York: Morrow, 1979). Fredman tells the story of the siege of Masada, as well as several decades of the life of the Jewish leader Simon ben Eleazar that led up to it. Written from the Jews’ point of view, the rebels are portrayed sympathetically. Lacking in action it isn’t, and makes for a lively enough read that you can ignore its overabundance of nick-of-time rescues.

Gann, Ernest K. The Triumph (New York: Simon & Shuster, 1986). Gann effectively captures the intrigue and plotting that come with the territory for Roman emperors. Even a dying Vespasian, well-regarded in his time for restoring order to the empire, is not immune: his own son Domitian is the slyest intriguer of all.

Gardner, John. The Wreckage of Agathon (New York: Harper & Row, 1970). Likeable tragicomic reminiscences of the dying Athenian philosopher Agathon, written from his Spartan prison cell. Funny and sad.

Gedge, Pauline. The Eagle and the Raven (Toronto: MacMillian, 1978). The first arrival of the Romans in Britain was as calamitous for the natives as the coming of the Europeans to the New World was for the First Peoples there. Gedge skilfully captures the courage and resolve of the Britons as they attempt to deal with the aggressive newcomers, and deftly portrays the lack of unity between tribes and the internecine intrigues that prevent them from defending themselves effectively. Gedge’s prose is colourful without being lurid, and her characters brim with real personality.

Gemmel, David. The Lion of Macedon (New York: Ballantine Books, 1992). Gemmell is an exceptionally gifted storyteller, and despite an excess of paranormal occurences, this is a well-written tale about the Macedonian general Parmenion and the “true” patrimony of Alexander the Great.

♥Gemmell, David & Gemmell, Stella. Troy: Fall of Kings (London: Bantam Press, 2007). David Gemmell died in 2006 before completing his Troy trilogy, which was finished by his wife Stella. The result is magnificent, continuing the practice in the first two books of maintaining a Homeric writing style while reworking The Iliad. Two examples: Odysseus never goes more than a few months without returning to his beloved Penelope, and the man-to-man duel between Hector and Achilles does not have the traditional outcome. Staunch Homeric traditionalists may not like it, but the Gemmells have produced a scorching gem of a book here, impossible to put down.

Gemmell, David. Troy: Lord of the Silver Bow (London: Bantam Press, 2005). Gemmell’s writings are easy and fun to read, and he delivers here with the first book of his Troy trilogy. He also has some fun with Iliadic traditions: his Odysseus is already in his forties before the Trojan War begins, and his Paris is an introverted bookworm who becomes involved with the plain Helen before she is married or even betrothed to Menelaos (in fact, before Menelaos has even heard of her). Fans of romance and action will find heaping helpings of both here.

Gemmell, David. Troy: Shield of Thunder (London: Bantam, 2006). Second of a trilogy. Gemmell is in fine form here, deftly interweaving multiple storylines into a thrilling yet heart-rending story of glorious deeds, exhausting intrigue, and even some fine romance. As with the first book in the trilogy, Gemmell uses the Iliadic tradition as a jumping-off point instead of a gospel: Hector, for example, marries Andromache but does not father her child. All in all, an outstanding page-turner. ♥

Golding, William. The Double Tongue (London: Faber & Faber, 1995). Arieka, a misfit child who is an enigma to her family, is sent to serve the prophetess at Delphi and soon supplants her. This nifty little tale is theological examination of the eternal struggle between faith and belief.

Graves, Robert. The Anger of Achilles, in Homer’s Daughter and The Anger of Achilles (Manchester: Carcanet, 2001). [Note: Homer’s Daughter is described separately, below.] In his introduction, Graves calls his version of Homer’s Iliad a “crib,” rather than a translation, primarily because it is a prose novelization rather than a literal translation of the verse original. The result is brilliant: Graves cuts out a great deal of the repetition that Homer used for mnemonic purposes, and gives us a smooth and easy-to-understand version of the seminal classic tale. ♥

Graves, Robert. Claudius the God and His Wife Messalina (New York: Vintage Books, 1989). The Emperor Claudius continues his history/memoir, and comments extensively on Roman politics, scandals, and endless intrigues. Includes an account of the colourful life of Claudius’ friend Herod Agrippa. Full of the usual Graves artistry and wit. ♥

Graves, Robert. Count Belisarius (London: Cassell, 1938). A magnificently written novel about the brilliant but ill-fated general Belisarius, whose military genius was constantly undermined by the pettiness and insecurities of his envious rivals and his paranoiac commander-in-chief, the Roman emperor Justinian. ♥

Graves, Robert. Hercules, My Shipmate (New York: Creative Age Press, 1945). Outstanding and often very funny version of Jason’s quest for the Golden Fleece. The Argo’s crew includes the great Hercules, whose reputation for heroic deeds is exceeded only by his monstrous behaviour. ♥

Graves, Robert. Homer’s Daughter and The Anger of Achilles (Manchester: Carcanet, 2001). [Note: The Anger of Achilles is described separately, above.] This exhilaratingly tense tale is told by Nausicaa, the quick-witted daughter of an absent king whose palace has been besieged by loutish and murderous “suitors” for Nausicaa’s hand in marriage. Graves brilliantly parodies The Odyssey while at the same time offering alternate, and usually more plausible, versions of the events portrayed in Homer’s masterwork. Can be fully appreciated only by readers familiar with The Odyssey. ♥

Graves, Robert. I, Claudius: From the Autobiography of Tiberius Claudius, Born 10 B.C., Murdered and Deified A.D. 54 (New York: The Modern Library, 1934). Graves portrays the troubled Roman emperor Claudius sympathetically, and gives him the voice that history has denied him. Outstanding. ♥

Graves, Robert. King Jesus (London: Hutchinson, 1983). Graves’ basic premise here is that the commonly-known details of Christ’s life resemble Greek mythology too much to possibly be true. Instead, Graves provides intriguing alternative explanations of the paternity, life, and death of Christ. Sadly, his trademark scholarship and masterful writing are somewhat hampered by too many doctrinal debates and testamentary tangents. All in all, a worthwhile read, though not an easy one.

Hardy, W.G. The Bloodied Toga: a novel of Julius Caesar (Toronto: MacMillan of Canada, 1979). An entertaining account of the final years of Caesar’s life. Hardy’s writing and attitudes about the Romans are very conventional.

Hardy, W.G. The Scarlet Mantle: a novel of Julius Caesar (Toronto: MacMillan of Canada, 1978). A fine book about Caesar’s rise to power and glory.

Harris, Robert. Imperium (London: Hutchinson, 2006). Marcus Tullius Cicero was not a military man, but he was definitely a fighter. Harris superbly brings Cicero’s court cases to life here, and also clearly portrays the hierarchical complexities of Roman society and Roman justice. The story ends with Cicero’s election as consul, which leaves Harris with plenty of material for a sequel, if we’re lucky. ♥

Harris, Robert. Pompeii (London: Hutchinson, 2003). Pompeii tells the story of Attilius, a young engineer whose job is to maintain the Pompeian aquaduct, as he investigates a waterworks malfunction and inadvertently uncovers the deep-rooted corruption of the local authorities. This all occurs in the two days before the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius, which will wipe out almost the entire populations of Pompeii and Herculaneum: despite Attilius’ warnings, the locals refuse to believe they are in any real danger. Harris weaves his plotlines deftly, and the final chapters, which deal with the actual eruption, keep you glued to the page.

Holland, Jack. Druid Time (New York: Dodd, Mead, 1986). The title misleads, because there is very little about Druids in this odd little book, which attempts to cover the political career of Nero’s mother Agrippina and the revolt of Boadicea in about 200 pages. Not surprisingly, both of these remarkably complex women are given short shrift here, but Holland is skilled enough as a writer to include some excellent action scenes and intrigue scenarios, making this book worth a look to anyone interested in the subject matter.

Homer. The Iliad , translated by Robert Fitzgerald(New York: Knopf, distributed by Random House, 1992). It all starts here, with Homer’s tale of the Greek heroes bickering during the final six weeks of the ten-year Trojan War.♥

Homer. The Odyssey: translated with an introduction by Richmond Lattimore (New York: Harper & Row, 1977). This grand-daddy of tall tales is about the persistence of Odysseus, whose fabled wiliness includes the ability to learn from his own mistakes.♥

Iggulden, Conn. Emperor: The Death of Kings (New York: Delacorte Press, 2004). An account of Julius Caesar’s impact on Roman politics. Caesar’s boyhood friend is revealed to be Marcus Junius Brutus. Iggulden is a skilled storyteller but seems to revel in glaring and unnecessary historical inaccuracies: for example, he has Sulla assassinated, when in fact he retired his dictatorship.

Iggulden, Conn. Emperor: Field of Swords (New York: Delacorte Press, 2005). Iggulden hits the mark here with an exciting, action-packed novelization of Caesar's military exploits in Spain and Gaul. The climax is a stunning Battle of Alesia, and the book ends with Caesar's legions crossing the Rubicon. Exciting enough to overlook Iggulden’s sometimes bizarre alterations to history.

Iggulden, Conn. Emperor: The Gates of Rome (New York: Delacorte Press, 2003). An engaging telling of Julius Caesar’s boyhood and early political career, and that of his bosom chum Marcus. Contrast his Julius Caesar to the way he's portrayed by Massie, McCullough, Hardy and others on this list.

Iggulden, Conn. Emperor: The Gods of War (New York: Delacorte Press, 2006). In the fourth of Iggulden’s Emperor series, Gaius Julius Caesar defeats Pompey, conquers Egypt, brings Cleopatra back to Rome with the son she has borne him, and is assassinated by a group of disgruntled senators. Yet Iggulden manages to make all of this fairly lacklustre. This book lacks the zest of the earlier books, and drags achingly in places. Recommended only for those who have read the first three and need closure on the series.

Holt, Tom. Goatsong (New York: St. Martin's Press, 1989). An amusing story about the competitive world of classical Athenian playwrights, in which the protagonist Eupolis meets Aristophanes, Cleon and Socrates. Good fun.

Koestler, Arthur. The Gladiators (London: Hutchinsons, 1965). Koestler does not romanticize the aims of the Spartacus slave revolt, which makes this entertaining novel more convincing than Howard Fast’s Spartacus.

Larkin, Patrick. The Tribune (New York: Signet, 2003). A lively murder mystery set in the ancient Near East, with ample plot turns and complications. Despite some one-dimensional characters and a villain-explains-his-diabolical-scheme-to-the-captured-hero-then-leaves-him-with-inept-guards-instead-of-just-killing-him scene, it’s a highly enjoyable read.

Leckie, Ross. Hannibal (Washington: Regnery, 1996). Despite some occasional awkward phrasing, Hannibal is an engrossing and lively biography of the great Carthaginian general, but be forewarned: it was a time of extensive punitive mutilation and atrocity. This book is definitely not for the squeamish.

Manfredi, Valerio Massimo. Alexander: The Sands of Ammon (London: MacMillan: 2001). Translated from the original Italian by Iain Halliday. Despite sporadic weak dialogue, which might be a translation problem, all in all a decent telling of Alexander's exploits up to his takeover of Egypt. Part one of a trilogy.

Massie, Allan. Antony (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1997). A convincing and sympathetic portrayal of a hard-living but highly capable Mark Antony, in contrast to Colleen McCullough’s depiction of him as a dissolute and lecherous drunkard.

Massie, Allan. Augustus: Memoirs of the Emperor [aka Let The Emperor Speak] (London: Bodley Head, 1986). Massie’s Augustus is sickly and effeminate, but also cunning and ruthless enough to succeed where his seemingly more capable great-uncle Julius failed. Massie’s books are well-researched and dispassionately written.

Massie, Allan. Caesar (New York: Carroll & Graf, 1994). Depicts Julius Caesar as a brazen opportunist, capable but far from brilliant. According to Massie, Caesar’s ability to appeal to soldiers and the masses astonished even his enemies, but his military prowess, though considerable, was exaggerated.

Massie, Allan. Caligula (London: Sceptre, 2003). A sympathetic and somewhat anticlimactic account of the much-maligned emperor Gaius, whose infamous nickname Massie translates as “Bootiekins.” Those hoping for a tale steeped in Caligula’s notorious depravity and profligacy will be disappointed.

Massie, Allan. Nero’s Heirs (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1999). In this fine tale of suspense, an embittered M. Aemilius Scaurus tells of his experiences during the terror and chaos of 69 A.D., Rome’s Year of the Four Emperors, when three dissolute or depraved emperors wreaked havoc on the Roman state, until the fourth emperor, the dull but dutiful Vespasian, was finally able to achieve stability. ♥

Massie, Allan. Tiberius: Memoirs of the Emperor (New York: Carroll & Graf, 1993). An explanatory account of Augustus’ capable but perpetually tortured successor. The best of Massie’s Roman series. ♥

McCullough, Colleen. Antony & Cleopatra (Toronto: McArthur & Co., 2007). McCullough wraps up her outstanding Roman series here with a workmanlike treatment of Octavian’s final triumph over his many rivals, who all make the dire mistake of underestimating his abilities. The career of Augustus has been fictionalized by many authors---Graves, Massie, Bradshaw, Falconer, and Williams, to name just a few---but they all agree that he was ruthless, calculating, and probably the only man who could have held the Roman empire together after nearly a century of intermittent civil war.

McCullough, Colleen. McCullough’s enormously entertaining and exquisitely detailed Masters of Rome series, which starts with The First Man In Rome (New York: Morrow, 199o), is essential to readers of ancient world fiction. Marius, Sulla, Julius Caesar, Marc Antony, Cleopatra, Pompey, Cicero, Cato, Crassus, Brutus, Servilia, and many other historical figures are brought vividly and convincingly to life. The books teem with political intrigue, military brilliance and nincompoopery, behind-the-scenes manipulation by many men and more than a few women, and plenty of Rome’s pandemic sex and violence. Each book contains a useful glossary of Roman terminology, covering everything from Roman religious practices to some of the choicer Latin profanities. It is not even absolutely necessary to read the books in sequence, as each one stands on its own.

McCullough, Colleen. Caesar: Let the Dice Fly (New York: Morrow, 1997). ♥

McCullough, Colleen. Caesar’s Women (New York: Morrow, 1996). ♥

McCullough, Colleen. Fortune’s Favourites (New York: Morrow, 1993). ♥

McCullough, Colleen. The Grass Crown (New York: Morrow, 1991).

McCullough, Colleen. The October Horse (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2002).

McCullough, Colleen. Song of Troy (London: Orion Books, 1998). An excellent treatment of the Trojan War, told from the viewpoint of many of its characters, including Helen and Patrocles, whose viewpoints are largely unexplored by other authors. ♥

McLaren, Clemence. Inside the Walls of Troy (New York: Atheneum Books For Young Readers, 1996). A fine account of the Trojan War told from the viewpoint of Helen and Cassandra, who are without formal political influence in the patriarchal Trojan society but nonetheless come close to arranging a marriage that would peaceably end the Trojan War.

Miller, Frank, and Varley, Lynn. 300 [graphic novel] (Milwaukie, Oregon: Dark Horse Comics, 1999). This stylish graphic novel is a dramatic and highly effective telling of the Spartans’ heroic stand against the Persians at Thermopylae. Despite some minor historical inaccuracies---for example, it’s highly unlikely that the Spartan king Leonidas and the Persian Xerxes negotiated face-to-face---this is a fine work for young adult readers.

Mills, James R. Memoirs of Pontius Pilate (Grand Rapids, MI: Fleming Revell, 2000). This is a fine fictive telling of the story of Christ, narrated by the man who condemned him and regretted it for the rest of his life. Pilate is a politician and a realist, not a theologian, so the book does not bog down with lengthy religious dissertations, a trap that other tellers of this story have fallen into but Mills deftly avoids.

Napier, William. Attila (London: Orion, 2005). This book, the first of a trilogy, deals with Attila the Hun’s years as a Roman hostage, where he is treated with haughty Roman disdain and condescension by a people whom he sees as on the verge of collapse from their own deep-rooted decadence. Frequent plot implausibilities and some wicked over-writing hamper the efforts of this skilful writer, and this book is included here only for die-hards who can’t get enough of Attila; both Michael Curtis Ford and William Dietrich both do the subject greater justice.

Nicastro, Nicholas. Isle of Stone (New York: Signet, 2005). This is a sad tale of the Spartan defeat on the island of Sphacteria by the Athenians in 425 B.C. Nicastro does a fine job of portraying the heartless rigidness of the hierarchical Spartan society, which was a factor in Spartan military success, although its inflexibility also led to Sparta’s downfall. There are odd anachronistic references to Britain, Turkey, and other nations that did not exist yet, but all in all this is a gripping book. But don’t look for a happy ending: this tale takes place during the Peloponnesian War, which was calamitous for most of its participants.

Oden, Scott. Men of Bronze (Palm Beach, Fla.: Medallion Press, 2004). Men of Bronze starts poorly: it’s sprawling and disjointed, and the multiple plotlines and characters are initially difficult to follow. But the plot eventually rights itself, and all the storylines and characters are tied together in the book’s thrilling climax. A rollicking good read.

Petronius. The Satyricon; Seneca. The Apocalocyntosis, translated with notes and introduction by J.P. Sullivan (New York: Penguin Books, 1986). The Satyricon is the definitive authority on what it’s like to be young, gay, astutely observant, and in love in Neronian Rome. The Apocolocyntosis is a fiendishly witty and devastatingly funny tale of the departed Emperor Claudius’ arrival on Mount Olympus, whose behaviour and appearance disgust and shock the unshockable gods.

Parotti, Phillip. Fires in the Sky (New York: Ticknor & Fields, 1990). An excellent novel about Troy in the years before the Trojan War, and the pre-existing political and military situations that made Troy susceptible to invasion and defeat by the Greeks. ♥

Parotti, Phillip. The Greek Generals Talk (Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1986). An outstanding Homeric account of the intricacies of the Trojan War, told five decades after its end by the lesser Greek officers. Parotti’s writings are influential, widely imitated, extremely entertaining, and scandalously underrated. ♥

Parotti, Phillip. The Trojan Generals Talk (Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1988). In another excellent but undeservedly obscure work, Parotti gives lesser Trojan officers their chance to sound off in this hearty follow-up to The Greek Generals Talk. ♥

Panella, Vincent. Cutter’s Island: Caesar in Captivity (Chicago: Academy Chicago Publishers, 2000). A nifty short book about Julius Caesar’s kidnapping by Mediterranean pirates, his ransoming, and his eventual revenge.

Pownall, David. The Sphinx and the Sybarites (London: Sinclair-Stevenson, 1993). In his story of the destruction of the despicably wealthy city of Sybaris by the Krotonians in the late 6th century B.C., Pownall takes some severe liberties with history. It is unlikely, for example, that the philosopher/mathematician Pythagoras, as influential as he was, commanded Kroton’s armies in the field. Even so, Pownall has crafted a fine morality tale about excessive opulence, religious chicanery, and the perils of political ambition in Magna Graecia. It’s also chock full of trashy sex, drinking, drugs, and violence.

Pressfield, Steven. The Afghan Campaign (New York: Doubleday, 2006). In Pressfield’s fifth antiquity-based novel, a rookie soldier tells of his experiences in Alexander’s army as the Macedonian war machine fruitlessly attempts to annex Afghanistan. Part thriller and part cautionary tale—Afghanistan has always been obstinately unconquerable, as the Persian armies of Darius the Great and the Soviets in the 1970’s, among many others, have learned the hard way—the action here is unrelenting. Pressfield’s sparse, active writing style keeps you turning those pages in his best book since Gates of Fire. Truly superb. ♥

Pressfield, Steven. Gates of Fire: an epic novel of the Battle of Thermopylae (New York: Doubleday, 1998). A thrilling can’t-put-it-down account of the Spartans’ courageous but doomed stand at the “Hot Gates.” Pressfield is one of the absolute best at bringing battle scenes to life. ♥

Pressfield, Steven. The Last of the Amazons (New York: Doubleday, 2002). Another first-rate effort from Pressfield, with exceptional attention to detail and some jaw-dropping plot twists; his Amazon siege of Athens is amazingly tense.

Pressfield, Steven. Tides of War: a novel of Alcibiades and the Peloponnesian War (New York: Doubleday, 2000). Once again Pressfield’s plotlines are terrific, and his battle scenes astonishing, but too much over-writing and flowery language diminishes what could have been a great book.

Pressfield, Steven. Virtues of War (New York: Doubleday, 2004). Another decent job by perhaps the greatest living writer of ancient battle scenes. His insightful depiction of the boundlessly ambitious Alexander is another page-turner.

Renault, Mary. Fire From Heaven (Toronto: Longman, 1969). In the first book of her Alexander trilogy, Renault explores the future king's childhood and youth, and his troubled, complex relationships with each of his parents. Plausible, well-written, and nicely paced.

Renault, Mary. Funeral Games (New York: Pantheon, 1981). In her final book of her Alexander trilogy, Renault deftly takes a volatile scenario, the Macedonian intrigues and in-fighting that followed the death of Alexander the Great, and creates a work of nonstop tension and maximum suspense, even for history buffs who know how the story is going to end. First rate. ♥

Renault, Mary. The King Must Die (New York: Pantheon, 1958). A worthy version of the legendary Jason’s defeat of Minos, his other great mythological feats (revised by the author to make them more realistic), and his eventual rise to the throne of Athens.

Renault, Mary. The Persian Boy (London: Longman, 1972). The second book of Renault's Alexander trilogy is told by Bagoas, eunuch slave first to Darius and then to Alexander, who witnesses first-hand most of the great events of the adult Alexander's life. Bagoas sees the great Macedonian king as compassionate, politically and militarily brilliant, and chronically misunderstood. A fine read.

Renault, Mary. The Praise Singer (New York: Pantheon Books, 1978). The poet Simonides tells the story of his life in Peisistratid Athens. The reliable Renault once again does a fine job here, vividly and passionately bringing the poet to life.

Ricci, Nino. Testament (Toronto: Doubleday Canada, 2002). A thought-provoking account of the life and death of Christ, told by several of his associates, including Judas and Mary Magdalene. Well-written and scholarly, but the last of the book’s four sections is somewhat implausible.

Rice, Anne. Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt (Toronto: A.A. Knopf, 2005). Rice takes a bold step here. Many novelists have used the life of Christ as a storyline, but how many have dared to have Christ tell his own story in first person? As a result, the reader learns what Christ thinks and feels as he slowly learns about his true parentage and why he seems to have some frightening supernatural capabilities. The book has occasional dull spots and a rambling, not to mention bizarre, afterword by the author, but all in all Rice humanizes Christ without demeaning him in any way. And that is an achievement in itself. First of a trilogy.

Ronalds, Mary Teresa. Myself My Sepulchre (London: MacDonald & Co., 1969). This awkwardly titled novel is a pained tale of the life of the Roman emperor Nero, in which he tells his story in first person yet fails to understand the people around him, particularly his mother, who manipulate him endlessly. Early in the book, he comes across as sympathetic and well-intentioned, but gradually devolves into a heartless monster. Not exactly a feel-good story.

Saylor, Steven. Arms of the Nemesis (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1992). Enjoyable entry in which Saylor’s sleuth, Gordianus the Finder, tackles the mysterious death of a citizen who appears to have been murdered by his slaves, which in amongst the Romans could result in the execution of all the citizen’s slaves.

Saylor, Steven. A Mist of Prophecies (New York: St. Martin’s Minotaur, 2002). Another decent book about an older Gordianus who investigates the murder of a mysterious woman who called herself Cassandra and appeared to have premonitory skills.

Saylor, Stephen. Roma (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2007). Saylor attempts the impossible here as he nobly tries to tell the story of one of Rome’s founding families over the course of a millennium. While Saylor is a superb storyteller, he spends too much time here showing off his research skills; on several occasions, his characters engage in discussions that outline centuries of Roman history in a few paragraphs, resulting in forced, unnatural dialogues that read like elementary school lessons. And since there are no characters that appear in more than one or two chapters of the book, Roma is more a collection of short stories rather than a novel. Despite these minor shortcomings, however, Saylor’s skills as a novelist make it a worthwhile and fun read.

Scarrow, Simon. The Eagle’s Conquest (Waterville, Maine: Thorndike Press, 2003). In this follow-up to Under the Eagle, Scarrow continues his narrative of Cato and Macro as the Roman legions continue their conquest of Britian. This tale of war, espionage, treachery and unrequited romance is likeable and highly readable.

Scarrow, Simon. The Eagle and the Wolves (New York: St. Martin's Press, 2004). The Romans have established strongholds in Brittania, but the island is by no means subdued. In a perverse vicissitude of war, Cato and Macro find themselves training Britons to fight like Roman legions, as Scarrow's harrowing adventure continues. ♥

Scarrow, Simon. Eagle in the Sand (London: Headline Publishing Group, 2006). In this the seventh of the Cato and Macro series, Scarrow is again in fine form. The stalwart duo find themselves mired in politics and revolution in Judea, caught between opportunistic rebels and corrupt Roman soldiers. As always, Scarrow keeps you turning those pages. The action and intrigue are intense, and the story keeps you engaged.

Scarrow, Simon. The Eagle’s Prey (London: Headline, 2004). Another gritty, uncompromising, can’t-put-it-down instalment in the Cato and Macro series. Here we find Cato and Macro doing battle with the implacable and determined Britons, although their greatest enemies might just be their superior officers. Superb intrigue and action sequences. ♥

Scarrow, Simon. The Eagle’s Prophecy (London: Headline, 2005). In this lively offering, the centurions Cato and Macro have been dismissed from their British legion and find themselves fighting pirates in the Adriatic. It’s a little predictable in places, but it still has Scarrow’s usual action, humour, and engaging readability

Scarrow, Simon. Under the Eagle (Waterville, Maine: Thorndike Press, 2002). A rollicking action novel set first in Gaul and then in Britain during the establishment of the first Roman province there. All in all, a splendid read, with plenty of battle scenes, intrigue, an exhilarating pace, and a proper balance of likeable characters and despicable ones.

Scarrow, Simon. When the Eagle Hunts (London: Headline Book Publishing, 2002). Further adventures of Cato and Macro. Scarrow is the Elmore Leonard of ancient historical fiction: his writing isn’t fancy, but he keeps you turning those pages with virtually nonstop action. This has a few minor plot implausibilities and isn’t his best, but is a highly enjoyable romp as Cato and Macro attempt to rescue an aristocratic Roman lady and her children from the Druids.

Schweighardt, Joan. Gudrun’s Tapestry (Reno, Nevada: Beagle Bay Books, 2003). Schweighardt neatly weaves her own tapestry here: Gudrun, the legendary Burgundian heroine, interweaves a tale of fatal intrigue inside the camp of the hated Huns with her own story of domestic tension and tragedy. Gudrun’s ultimate goal is to assassinate Attila, and the nifty little twist at the end sweetens the plot.

Seton, Anya. The Mistletoe and Sword (New York: American Reprint Co., 1975). In the year A.D. 60, young Quintus is assigned to a legion in Roman Britain on the eve of Boadicea’s rebellion, and becomes involved with Druids, dissolute members of Nero’s imperial staff, and the disgruntled Britons, with whom he sympathizes. There are some plot implausibilities and some factual refurbishing (for example, Seton has legionary centurions going into battle on horseback when their men are on foot), but all in all it’s a nifty little read with plenty of action, intrigue, and even a little romance for young adults.

Shanower, Eric. Age of Bronze, Vol. 1: A Thousand Ships [graphic novel] (Orange, Ca: Image, 2001). Shanower’s respectable comic-book version of the Trojan War could introduce the story to an entirely new audience.

Shanower, Eric. Age of Bronze, vol. II: Sacrifice [graphic novel] (Orange, CA: Image Comics, 2004). Shanower’s dramatic and highly effective graphic novel series tells the story of the Trojan War. Superbly written and drawn, and once started, difficult to put down.

Walsh, Jill Paton. Farewell, Great King (London: MacMillan, 1972). A gripping account of the Ionian Revolt, the Greco-Persian wars, and the intrigues of Athenian politics, told convincingly from the viewpoint of the Athenian general Themistocles. ♥

Vidal, Gore. Julian (New York: Modern Library, 1962). Beautifully written but sometimes pompous portrayal of Julian the Apostate. Vidal is an excellent storyteller when he resists the urge to prove how intelligent he is.

Unsworth, Barry. The Songs of the Kings (New York: Nan A. Talese/Doubleday, 2003). A brilliantly original portrayal of the Greek commanders and their petty grievances against each other on the eve of the Trojan War. Unsworth’s Machiavellian Odysseus is hilarious. ♥

Watson, Jules. The White Mare (London: Orion, 2004). In this complex tale of ancient Scotland, Rhiann, a beautiful, brilliant, neurotic, surly and manipulative priestess, is forced into marriage to Eremon, an exiled prince of Erin. Eremon sees what most others cannot, that the obstinate and quarrelling tribes must unite into an organized army to repel the Romans, who have overrun Britannia and are looking northward. Some plot twists are laughably predictable, but others are jaw-droppers. All in all, a fun read. First of a trilogy.

Whyte, Jack. The Skystone (New York: Forge, 1996). An exhilarating and entertaining tale set in Britain in the final decades of the western Roman Empire. Two former soldiers, Varrus and Britannicus, mourn the disappearance of courage and discipline in the legions as they try to prepare for the imperial collapse they see as imminent and inevitable. Tough to put down.

Williams, John E. Augustus (New York: Viking Press, 1972). Williams imaginatively reconstructs the life of Augustus by use of fictitious letters, memos, and journal entries written by Augustus’ friends, relatives, and rivals. The concept waivers a little towards the end, but all in all, it’s a fine biographical novel of the ruthless but farsighted man who initiated the Pax Romana.
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NON-FICTION

Cartledge, Paul. Thermopylae: The Battle that Changed the World (Woodstock, NY: Overlook Press, 2006). This book was written before the theatrical release of the film 300, but is nonetheless an apt companion work for fans of the film. Cartledge separates fact from myth and explains how much the famous Spartan sacrifice has been celebrated for centuries by writers and composers. It’s always fun to compare history-based films to what really happened, and Thermopylae is a fine place to start.

Finley, M.I. The World of Odysseus (New York: New York Review of Books, 2002). Extremely useful skeptical inquiry into the historicity and complex anachronisms of the Greek society described by Homer: according to Finley, The Iliad and The Odyssey depict Homer's own time more accurately than that of the events they portray.

Foreman, Laura. Alexander the Conqueror: The Epic Story of the Warrior King (Cambridge, Mass.: DaCapo Press, 2004). Foreman wades into the dross and deftly separates legend from fact, and she pulls no punches as she does a blow-by-blow analysis of Alexander’s meteoric career. A highly enjoyable read with dozens of illustrations.

♥Gibbon, Edward. The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, v. I (New York: Random House, 1995). What can be said about Gibbon that hasn’t been said already? The master stylist, whose silken prose is a joy to read, is the ultimate historian, and never ceases to scrutinize and dissect his primary sources. This first volume takes the reader to the end of the calamitous 4th century A.D. and brims with acerbic observations, astute conclusions, and a surprising amount of droll wit. This is writing to be savoured, and requires from the reader a commitment that is well worth making. Volume I of this edition actually contains Gibbon's first two books on the subject.

Goldsworthy, Adrian. In The Name of Rome: The Men Who Won the Roman Empire (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 2003). Goldsworthy has written an extremely useful, informative, and entertaining account of Rome’s greatest generals, including the famous (Caesar, Pompey) and the not-so-famous (Belisarius, Sertorius). Their generalship is analyzed and critiqued in a style that is engaging and highly readable. Invaluable to anyone who wants to compare fictive treatments of Roman generals to the actual facts.

Hanson, Victor Davis. Carnage & Culture: Landmark Battles in the rise of Western Power (New York: Doubleday, 2001). This book is included herein because its thorough analyses of the ancient battles of Salamis, Gaugamela, and Cannae, but the rest of it is also well worth reading. Hanson’s main premise is that Western armies (i.e., those rooted in the European values) have historically prevailed militarily over non-Western cultures precisely because their cultural traditions enable them to do so. Military systems that are constitutionally accountable to their societies, manned by free citizens, and permit commanders in the field to alter strategy to circumstances have inherent advantages over armies that operate with impunity, are staffed with slaves or conscripts, and are inflexibly commanded by a distant autocrat. The Greek city-states, Alexander’s Macedonians and the Roman legions are the progenitors of this tradition, and even when they lose battles disastrously, as the Romans did at Cannae, they still have the flexibility and resources to recover that their non-western opponents do not. ♥

Hanson, Victor Davis, ed. Hoplites: The Classical Greek Battle Experience (London: Routledge, 1991). Invaluable collection of essays about Greek hoplite warfare. Excellent details about the panoply, the customs, the ethos, and how many of the battles themselves played out.

Hanson, Victor Davis. A War Like No Other: How the Athenians and Spartans fought the Peloponnesian War (New York: Random House, 2005). Hanson has written an outstanding and invaluable companion to Thucydides' History of the Peloponnesian War. The title is directly from Thucydides, and Hanson confirms that it was indeed a war like no other, unprecedented in its savagery as civilians and prisoners-of-war were massacred time and again over the Peloponnesian War’s twenty-seven brutal years. Highly readable, imaginative, and informative. ♥

Herodotus. The Histories, translated by Aubrey de Selincourt, edited by John Marincola (London: Penguin, 2003). A magnificent work of history, tall tales, violence, sex, intrigue, myth, and stupendous feats. Absolutely essential for anyone interested in ancient history. ♥

Holland, Tom. Persian Fire: the First World Empire and the Battle for the West (London: Little, Brown; 2005). Holland explains the complexities of the Greco-Persian Wars in clear, understandable language. Unlike most books on this subject, much of Persian Fire is written from the perspective of the Persians’, who viewed the Athenians and Spartans as fractious troublemakers, and includes details of how the Persian empire came to be. An invaluable resource on the intricate diplomacy and brinksmanship of the Aegean circa 500 B.C. ♥

Procopius. The Secret History, translated by G. Williamson (New York: Penguin, 1991). This somewhat demented diatribe against the Roman emperor Justinian, written secretly by his official historian Procopius, is so malicious and exaggerated that its inclusion here as “non-fiction” is highly contestable. This scatological undercurrent is precisely what makes it so entertaining.

Scarre, Chris. Chronicle of the Roman Emperors: The Reign-by-Reign Record of the Rulers of Imperial Rome (London: Thames & Hudson, p. 1995). Useful short biographies of all the Roman emperors, right up to Romulus Augustulus. Some of these emperors were so ephemeral that almost nothing is known about them other than their issue of coinage. A fine encyclopedic quick-reference book.

Strauss, Barry. The Trojan War: a New History (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2006). Strauss offers very little new evidence about the historicity of the Trojan War, and makes the somewhat rash assumption that all of the characters in The Iliad and The Odyssey actually existed. Despite these flaws, he nonetheless provides important and compelling information about whether the social and warfare practices described by Homer conform to known Bronze Age practices, and ultimately concludes that they do. An informative and well-written book for Trojan War buffs.

Suetonius. The Twelve Caesars, translated by Robert Graves, revised with an introduction by Michael Grant (London: Penguin, 2003). Graves’ translation of Suetonius is one of the most pleasant classical texts, with ample violence and depravity to keep your interest. It’s gossipy, sometimes contradictory, sensationalistic, and occasionally too outrageous to be true. Essential reading, especially considering that Suetonius had access to the imperial documents of Augustus and other emperors. ♥

Tacitus. The Agricola and The Germania, translated by H. Mattingly (London: Penguin Classics, 1970). Tacitus does not have all his facts straight and his versions of events are skewed by his blatant Roman patrician bias. But what a stylist: even in translation, his astute observations flow like creamed honey, and even his cheap shots are elegant.

Thucydides. History of the Peloponnesian War, translated by Rex Warner (London: Penguin, 1972). Thucydides’ unadorned, straightforward writing makes him more of a journalist than a stylist, and while it reads like a laundry list in places, he succeeds in capturing the gruesome, heartless spectacle that was the Peloponnesian War, which may have been history’s first instance of mutually assured destruction. The violence, betrayal, and ultimate pointlessness of it all are described in heartbreaking detail. And talk about intrigue: at one point in the war, no one could really tell if Alcibiades was on the side of Sparta, Athens, or Persia: he was courted by all but trusted by none. Essential reading. ♥

Tuchman, Barbara. The March of Folly: From Troy to Vietnam (New York: Alfred Knopf, 1984). This brilliant treatise on governmental mismanagement is included in this blog only because of its first two chapters. In her introduction, Tuchman outlines her central premise that throughout history, political leaders continuously pursue actions that they know are contrary to their nations’ best interests. In her second chapter, she portrays the Trojan acceptance of the Greek gift horse as the prototypical example of tragic folly. Beautifully written and insightful. ♥

Wood, Michael. In Search of the Trojan War (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998). An outstanding and highly readable study of the archaeological evidence from the site of ancient Troy and its environs. Wood discusses in depth what archaeology proves, and does not prove, about the historicity of Trojan War. Includes numerous photographs of artifacts and what’s left of Troy’s walls and battlements. ♥

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