Our family loves Greek mythology. We have lots of kids’ versions of the stories floating around the house, but until recently, I’d never read a Greek myth written for adults.

Here are two of my favorite Greek mythology books, one for kids, and one for adults, and why I chose them.

For Kids: D’Aulaire’s Book of Greek Myths, by Ingri d’Aulaire and Edgar Parin d’Aulaire

As I kid, I remember poring over the copy we got from our local library, and as an adult, when I was teaching Ancient Civilizations as part of our homeschool curriculum, I was happy to bring a copy home to live at our house permanently.

When I got our book in the mail, it had been years since I’d peeked inside the pages. I remember the book from my childhood as being vibrantly colorful and endlessly fascinating. Imagine my surprise when I discovered many of the illustrations aren’t in color at all.

But as soon as we started reading it together, the book came to life and I realized right away why I remembered it in full color. It has beautiful story telling, lovely illustrations that don’t glorify the gore, and the difficult plot lines of Greek mythology are well told in a way that children can follow.

More importantly, my kids loved it, too. We’ve used it as a read-aloud, and my elementary and middle school-aged kids read it for pleasure as well.

For Grown Ups: The Silence of the Girls, by Pat Barker

Barker’s book reads like historical fiction of the Trojan War, although the city and the war are now believed to be non-historical, according to Wiki. From the pages of Homer’s Iliad, the story comes to life as we’re taken backstage, away from the bloody war, to peek behind the scenes. The reader doesn’t feel like anything is being missed by stepping away from the battlefield for much of the tale.

After I wrote this, I noticed there was a historical fiction sticker on the spine of the book, and it made me wonder, is it historical fiction if the event the book is based on is completely fictional? I’ve read a lot of WWII historical fiction, and even if the characters were made up, the event the books were built around was completely real. I don’t think I’ve ever read historical fiction that pushed those boundaries quite so far as The Silence of the Girls. Maybe it’s historical fiction because it’s based on a historical piece of literature? Maybe I’m revealing my ignorance here.

The gods are integral to the story, no less real than the human characters. The narrator handles the mythical parts easily, explaining some matter-of-factly, admitting other parts were speculation, and identifying different versions of the story that exist, all from the perspective of someone who was “there”: Briseis, wife of Mynes, a son of the King of Lyrnessus.

The story doesn’t shy away from the adult themes that are part of Greek Myths, but lacking (rightly) from the children’s versions. I remember reading Grimm’s Fairy Tales as an older child and finding out how Cinderella’s stepsisters cut off part of their feet in their attempts to fit into the glass slipper. I suppose in some ways, The Silence of the Girls is kind of like that. Of course these stories are more violent than we remember them.

It’s been a while since I read the Greek myths, and we have several  Greek myth anthologies floating around our house. I was tempted more than once to pick one up and find the story of the Trojan War to see how it turned out. The Silence of the Girls is full of foreshadowing, paired with my vague memory of the story, so the ending wasn’t a surprise, but I didn’t know how it would go down.

Barker tells the compelling story not just of Briseis, but also the many other women who were taken as prisoners of war in the story. Women were not people, but the spoils of war, which makes for a touching look at how human beings might have born up under those conditions.

This was my first time reading a grown up version of a Greek myth, and I truly enjoyed it. I appreciated the skillful storytelling. More than that, I liked that it wasn’t just another heroic tale of Odysseus, Hector, or Achilles, but a completely different perspective of a famous story.

I couldn’t resist putting a girl model in a toga made from a sheet for this shot, but I had no idea how dreamy she would look. Five is a superstar when it comes to helping with my book photos, and she totally killed it this time. I can’t stop looking at her.