The Bull from the Sea

Theseus #2

by Mary Renault

“Mary Renault is a shining light to both historical novelists and their readers. She does not pretend the past is like the present, or that the people of ancient Greece were just like us. She shows us their strangeness; discerning, sure-footed, challenging our values, piquing our curiosity, she leads us through an alien landscape that moves and delights us.”—Hilary Mantel

In The Bull from the Sea, the story of Theseus resumes with the hero’s return from Knossos. In the wake of his father’s suicide, Athens is now Theseus’s to rule. With his close friend Pirithoos, Theseus sets out for the land of the Amazons, falling in love with their beautiful leader, Hippolyta. Her boldness and sense of honor match his own, but though they’re happy and bear a son, tragedy lies ahead. The Athenians mistrust the foreign Hippolyta, and Theseus is forced to marry Phaedra, his betrothed. War wracks the land, and brings with it death that will change the Athenian king forever. As the darkness gathers, a valiant hero’s life draws poignantly to a close.

Genres: Historical Fiction, Fiction, Mythology, Historical, Greek Mythology, Greece, Fantasy

343 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1962

About the author

Mary Renault was an English writer best known for her historical novels set in Ancient Greece. In addition to vivid fictional portrayals of Theseus, Socrates, Plato and Alexander the Great, she wrote a non-fiction biography of Alexander.

Her historical novels are all set in ancient Greece. They include a pair of novels about the mythological hero Theseus and a trilogy about the career of Alexander the Great. In a sense, The Charioteer (1953), the story of two young gay servicemen in the 1940s who try to model their relationship on the ideals expressed in Plato's Phaedrus and Symposium, is a warm-up for Renault's historical novels. By turning away from the 20th century and focusing on stories about male lovers in the warrior societies of ancient Greece, Renault no longer had to deal with homosexuality and anti-gay prejudice as social "problems". Instead she was free to focus on larger ethical and philosophical concerns, while examining the nature of love and leadership. The Charioteer could not be published in the U.S. until 1959, after the success of The Last of the Wine proved that American readers and critics would accept a serious gay love story.

Reviews

[Terry · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars

Mary Renault’s _The Bull from the Sea_ takes up where The King Must Die left off and continues the legendary story of Theseus and his kingship of Attica. There are some differences between this volume and its predecessor, most notably in the fact that the scope of this tale is much broader. Whereas the first volume concentrated primarily on Theseus’ youth and time in the bull ring of Crete and covered the time involved in a fair amount of detail, this volume is much more a précis of many events, covering a much wider range of time. Important events and periods are singled out, however, and expanded upon with more than enough detail to satisfy. I never had the sense that the tale was in any way rushed or incomplete and the broader scope perhaps allowed for a more elegiac tone to the novel, which is appropriate given the ending to Theseus’ tale. This is a memoir giving the wider story of Theseus’ kingship and deeds after the defining moment of his youth has passed.

Even though this memoir comes from the hand (voice?) of Theseus himself and is often told very much in overview I was impressed with the way in which secondary characters came to life. For example with only a chapter seen from Theseus’ POV and the things he is able to glean from implication we learn a lot about the entire youth and development of his son Hippolytos. Theseus’ great friend Pirithoos, his wives Hippolyta and Phaedra and his other son Akama are also all very well depicted even when painted with minimal brush strokes.

Another thing that struck me with Renault’s Theseus saga (and this volume in particular) was the deft way in which many other legends and tales from ancient Greece were woven into the fabric of his tale without taking anything from the tale being told, but also without detracting from their own importance. These include the legend of the famous bard Orpheus, the tragedy of the king Oedipus, the existence of the Centaurs and the apparently contradictory traditions of both their training of the heirs of kings and almost bestial gluttony and lust, the tale of Jason’s quest for the Golden Fleece, and even echoes of the coming Trojan War in a cameo by the young hero Achilles. As with The King Must Die Renault is able to retain the mythic stature of these stories while making them much more ‘realistic’.

For all of the many events that make up the career of Theseus Renault tells a tight tale, woven deftly with nary a thread left astray. We very much see him here as Theseus the King (as opposed to Theseus the wandering hero, though the latter is never wholly absent from his nature or actions) and we see him constantly trying to live according to the guiding principle of his life, learned in first trials of his youth: “To stand for the people before the gods, that is kingship. Power by itself is the bronze without the gold.” Despite the fact that he is a heroic figure whose deeds may often seem larger than life he is also a man whose ultimate tragedy is born of the foibles of his own human nature. In the end Theseus comes to learn, perhaps too late, that all of his choices and actions, along with the fate he has willingly embraced, have a price: “Fate and will, will and fate, like earth and sky bringing forth the grain together; and which the bread tastes of, no man knows.” The taste may be bitter at the end, but the sweet was no less great and is ultimately not erased by his tale’s conclusion.

Highly recommended.

Also posted at Shelf Inflicted

[Clif Hostetler · Rating 3 out of 5]

This story is a retelling of the life of mythological hero Theseus after his return from the Minoan palace of Knossos. His adventures leading up this this book are covered in the prequel, The King Must Diet. This novel follows his later quests, his friendship with Pirithous, and his liaison with Hippolyta and marriage to Phaedra.

The story begins shortly after Theseus' triumphant return from Knossos and his inheritance of the kingdom of Athens which now has become the dominate military power of the region. Now the Minoan kingdom is paying tribute to Athens instead of the other way around. If this story has any historicity it would have occurred circa 12th century BC when Minoan dominance ended.

In many ways Theseus starts out being a wise ruler deserving of the title "founding hero of Athens." However, he partakes in some not-so-prudent behavior which perhaps makes the story more interesting by leading to the tragic failure required of Classical Greek drama. He finds a new friend Pirithous and with him learns the joy of going off to distant lands to be a pirate. Apparently it's OK to steal things as long as it's from people who live in distant lands. I guess that's the rationale behind colonialism in more recent times. Ever heard of the Doctrine of Discovery?

On one of the pirating trips he conquers in one-on-one combat an Amazon named Hippolyta. Subsequently she becomes a loyal lover as only can happen in the sexual dreams of the male ego. But political reality requires that Theseus marry a Minoan princess named Phaedra. Now he has a wife and a lover; they both give birth to boys; what can go wrong?

Things seem to keep going down hill as Theseus grows older. In the end he's betrayed by his wife, an usurper has grabbed power, and Theseus ends his own life.

An underling theme in the story is the changing of allegiances from the older feminine goddess Artemis to the newer masculine god Zeus. In order to facilitate this transition Artemis has morphed into becoming the daughter of Zeus. Residual loyalty to the feminine goddess plays a role in decline of Theseus' power and is a factor in Phaedra's betrayal.

[Martin · Rating 5 out of 5]

The House of the Axe has fallen
Theseus returns to inherit the kingdom of Athens in this myth turned to life

The triumphant return to Athens
It was dolphin weather when I sailed into Piraeus with my comrades of the Cretan bull ring. Knossos had fallen, which time out of mind had ruled the seas. The smoke of the burning Labyrinth still clung to our clothes and hair.
I sprung ashore and grasped both hands full of Attic earth. It stuck to my palms as if it loved me. Then I saw the staring people, not greeting us, but calling each other to see the Cretan strangers.

No more Cretan overlords, no more Cretan taxes
“Look, we are back! Yes, every one of us; look, there is your son. No, the Cretans will not chase us, there is no Minos now. The House of the Ax has fallen! We fought a great battle there, after the earthquake. Theseus killed the heir, the Minotauros. We are free! And there is no Cretan tribute any more"

The King is dead - long live the King.
The father of Theseus feeling that his time had come leapt to his death from the tower.
I buried my father richly, on the slope of the Hill of Ares with the other kings. His tomb was lined with dressed stone, the nailheads wrought with flowers and gilded. His offerings of food and drink stood in fine painted ware on stands inlaid with ivory. I had a high and splendid death-cart made, and wrapped him in a great hanging worked with lions. He had enamelled coffers, his richest dagger and sword, two great gold rings and his state necklace. When the mound was heaped above the dome, I offered eight bulls upon it, and a war-stallion for him to ride in the lands below. As the blood sank into the earth, the women keened his dirge and praised him.

As king Theseus must now protect his people from all dangers as he unites his growing kingdoms.
But as he also wants more adventures,
he travels the world stealing gold,
capturing an Amazon princess,
fighting the Kentaurs,
defeating the northern Scythian invaders,
marrying the princess of Crete
and sowing the seeds of his own destruction . . .

Reality turned to Myth, to Legends.
We see the man who made the myth.
His spirit later returned to the plains of Marathon where the Greeks defeated the invading Persians.
While poets and writers still sing his praise Theseus lives on with all of us.


Enjoy!

[Wanda Pedersen · Rating 4 out of 5]

When I first went to university, I developed quite a crush on the Ancient Greeks. Soon, I was studying classical history, mythology, even learning the Ancient Greek language and translating it. So I really appreciate Mary Renault’s version of the Theseus myth. She really had a feel for their mindset. My edition had an introduction by classicist David Mendelsohn. Of her writing, he says the following: “She went as far as to reproduce, in her prose, the syntax of Classical Greek, which is heavy with participles…Such minute attention to stylistic detail gives the novel the impression of having been translated from some lost Greek original.”

He captured my feelings exactly. Having done some translation back in my salad days, I'm familiar with the patterns of their literature and Renault captures it. She also seems to represent their religious beliefs with verisimilitude. Theseus communes with Poseidon without self consciousness and acts on what he perceives. The mysteries of various deities are displayed without critique. Plus Renault finds ways to make mythological elements fit more comfortably into her tale. For example, the centaurs are hirsute men on furry ponies seemingly melding together.

I thought her inspiration to make Theseus a small man was right on the money. He had things to prove as a ruler, making taller men listen to him and considering his people’s well being. The Theseus of myth did a remarkable number of things, had remarkable friendships, and significant relationships with prominent women. Renault manages to fit it all in without it feeling unbelievable.

But the Greeks believed that a man's life couldn't be fully evaluated until his death. An ignominious death could jeopardize an otherwise illustrious life. I was struck by the parallels between the deaths of Theseus and Oedipus, who we see early in the novel. Oedipus goes to his death by the will of Poseidon and demonstrates the proper attitude. Theseus takes a page out of his book and is dignified to the end.

[Lucinda Elliot · Rating 3 out of 5]

Two and a half stars, which will be shown as three.

I previously expressed deep concern about Mary Renault's internalised misogyny in my reviews of Renault's Theseus novels.

While finding them brilliantly researched and evocative, I also considered them to be permeated by scorn for women to the point where I was concerned that the author seemed almost to collude in Theseus various acts of brutality towards women (ie, his contemplated rape of 'Persephone' the matriarchal Queen, his his smugness about his destruction of matriarchy, his brutal threats to his aging father's war prize for snuggling up against him, etc).

However, over on the discussion thread my view was changed by a reasoned and perceptive response from the reviewer Caroline Galwey.

I am now willing to concede that I have previously done Mary Renault some injustice in assuming her attitude towards Theseus to be one of authorial approval. Her portrayal is almost certainly fairly ironic, and whilst in life Renault did not sympathise with women in general and saw herself as an honourary man, she probably did her best in these novels to be more objective than I have previously conceded.

Of course, at that time, the view that the overthrow of matriarchy by patriarchy was an undeniably good thing was universally accepted. Theseus' belief that a society characterised by the rape and oppression of women was infinitely preferable to one where one man voluntarily gave himself over as a bloody sacrifice, would be unquestioned. It is to Renault's credit, in fact, that she was able to portray Theseus' as being finally so brutalised by his patriarchal assumptions.

So, following my discussion with that reviewer I will just say that these books are interesting, brilliantly researched, vivid and evocative; but the reader should be aware that Renault, even though writing within the ethos of her time, almost certainly did NOT intend Theseus to be seen as a role model, and he is portrayed fairly ironically, if in my opinion, with a little too much admiration.

I did find the relationship of the Apostate Amazon with Theseus redolent of Stockhom Syndrome. In fact, I found her emotional surrender to a patriarch redolent of the sort of sentimental stuff of the worst examples of porn-for-women (as is for that matter, the briefly sketched in relationship of Theseus to his war prize in 'The King Must Die)' . She did not seem to me at all credible as a woman who had been raised solely among women. Probably, again, this had to do with the lack of understanding of sex roles in Reynault's era, which would assume that a woman who is not like a stereotypical 'female' woman must be like a man...

Also, I found Theseus' murder of Phaedra not only disgustingly cowardly (I assume, he is meant to know this himself) but highly inept for an expert at unarmed combat. As someone who was once a martial arts expert myself I know that he could have used the painless, almost instantaneous strangle - ie, cutting off blood to the brain, rather than that - yuk - seemingly ineffectual choke tht he uses - ie, cutting of the air to the lungs. I wonder the author lapsed so on her research there.

Overall, though, as critics comment, there is something unfinished and unsatisfactory about the whole story, as if Renault had lost interest in the project.

[Roman Clodia · Rating 5 out of 5]

This follows on from The King Must Die, which begins Renault's epic and yet overwhelmingly human re-telling of the Theseus myth.

The first book tells the story of a young man: this sequel is much darker. Here Theseus tries to re-capture his lost youth in the bull-ring of Knossos before realising that that is an impossibility. Restless, he allows his friend Peirithous to talk him into a pirate expedition where they encounter the Amazons and Theseus falls in love.

The love affair/marriage between him and Hippolyta is one of the most moving relationships in literature, but if you don't know the myth I don't want to spoil it for you. This is a fine, fine book: imaginative, compelling, enthralling, filled with true emotion and drama - and Renault refuses to sentimentalise or modernise ancient Greek attitudes.

[Cody · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 stars, rounding up. Mary doesn't miss, can't believe she made me feel bad for Theseus on multiple occasions.

The last 25% of this was a repeated gut punch :')

[Pam Baddeley · Rating 3 out of 5]

Book 2 of this retelling and interpretation of the Theseus myth carries on immediately after his return from Crete and the suicide of his father, who thought he had been killed. Theseus has to get to grips with the various problems inherent on taking over as king, some of which have been caused by his father's reluctance to deal with a powerful sadistic local chieftain (the mythological Procrustes). Theseus soon proves to the doubting barons that he is a strong and decisive ruler and he goes on to lead a successful war against his father's brothers and their kin who had previously attacked Athens on a number of occasions.

On the personal side things do not run so smoothly. He is aware that he should marry and produce legitimate sons to succeed him, yet he is reluctant to commit himself. Eventually he settles on Phaedra, whom he met when she was a child while he was a bulldancer on Crete. The younger sister of Ariadne, whom he left on Nexos when it became clear she had the 'bad blood' that full-out worship of the Goddess represents - she had taken part in the Maened frenzy in which the local King was sacrificed - Phaedra is now a sedate young Cretan matron. He puts off the marriage even though he has arranged that she stay on Crete, because she would lose her royal status there if she left. Instead, driven by a restless spirit, he goes roving on ships with his friend Prince Pirithoos and indulges in piracy.

On one of his trips he meets and eventually defeats in a fight Hippolyta, King of the Moon Maidens of Artemis, for whom he forms a deep and instant devotion. Despite her upbringing she reciprocates his love, and eventually they have a son, Hippolytus But he also has to marry Phaedra. He has a son by her also, Acamus, a typically Cretan boy, rather than the tall Helene young man that Hippolytus grows into. He intends Hippolytus, despite his illegitimacy, to inherit his rule of Athens and the other countries now under Athens' rule, apart from Crete, which could go to Acamus who is rather easy going and not much of a warrior. But things don't turn out according to plan.

This book is rather more bitty and disjointed than volume one. Certain characters are sketched, such as Hippolyta, their son, his wife and other son, and his friend Pirrithoos. Theseus contends with various difficulties such as the hostility to Hippolyta who continues to dress in "men's clothing" and ride and hunt - he has a beautiful sword made for her too. The prevailing attitudes to women mean that the senior nobles and the serving women both view her with suspicion - the men because her reverence of the goddess Artemis reminds them of Medea who was the close companion of his father and whom they suspected of wanting to bring back the Mother worship complete with king-sacrifice, and the women because Theseus has elevated her to his soul companion and common law wife and no longer sleeps around, plus he favours her son above theirs. As foreshadowed, from as far back as a couple of mentions in passing in volume 1, things end in tragedy as usually happens in Greek mythology.

As before, Renault has a different slant on the mythical elements. For example, the Kentaurs as they are called here are not half horse and half man but a type of wild man - possibly Neanderthals - who have a close bond with horses and live a basic outdoor existence. As in book 1, various other myths are worked in, including mentions of Jason, and a cameo appearance by Achilles. Because there are quite long periods when nothing basically happens in the myth, these are summarised briefly and, as they consist mostly of Theseus going on pirate expeditions, that is no bad thing.

The attitudes to women continue to be problematic but this follows the cultural norms of the time. To some extent, Theseus overcomes these in his relationship with Hippolyta but he continues to treat other women, including his wife, as people whose opinions don't matter - to his undoing and that of his elder son. His likeable characteristic is his championing of underdogs and belief that a king is a protector of his people and stands between them and the god - mainly Poseidon, but others - with the ultimate role, if required, of self-sacrifice.

Because of the more episodic character of this book which perhaps suffered from such a large stretch of Theseus life being packed into one novel I didn't enjoy this as much as book 1. I also found it not altogether credible that Hippolyta so quickly falls for Theseus and renounces her old life. For those reasons, I rate it at 3 stars overall.

[Ms.pegasus · Rating 4 out of 5]

The combination of scholarship and imagination continues the story begun in Renault's earlier novel, The King Must Die. Once again she brings a rich vitality to the ancient Greece we thought we knew from age-weathered works of art and myths reinterpreted by later tellings.

This was an age when a man was old by 40 and to live beyond 70 was almost unthinkable. No wonder the few octogenarians were considered sages, both blessed and cursed. Familiar figures, an aged Jason and blind Oedipus, cross Theseus' path. An ancient crone, said to have served King Kekrops the founder of Athens, forewarns cryptically of a bull from the sea. A carefree Achilles presages the war to come and attests to Theseus' grim comment: “Man born of woman cannot outrun fate.” (p.236)

Theseus has brought his bull-dancers home to Athens, but no one lives happily ever after. They miss the adrenaline rush of the ring, the camaraderie of their team, the display of their hard-won skill, and the celebrity bestowed by the crowd. It is this abrupt lack of purpose that attests to the adage “you can't go home again.”

Not for the first time, Theseus is forced to contemplate the riddle of mortality as he buries his father Aigeus. “What is it like there, in the fields of Hades where sun does not rise or set, nor seasons alter? Nor do men change; for where change is life is, and these, who are only shadows of lives past, must keep forever the shape of their earthly selves, whatever they made of them when they walked in daylight. Need the gods judge us further? Surely that is sentence enough, to live with ourselves, and to remember.” (p.11) From our modern vantage point, we might view ancient Greece as static; to the people who lived, there was constant change: from the unfathomable hands of contentious gods, from the constant pull between fate and will, from the restless longing for purpose.

All of these forces play out in Theseus' life. A marriage to Phaedra is the necessary consequence of the unification of Attica; his need for the bright flame of adventure brings him to shores of the Amazons and a pure bond, both sensual and psychological, with Hippolyta. These events are wrapped in the veil of Mystery. Theseus' mother, a priestess of Artemus, foresees his fate. Hippolyta, alone, divines meaning from the augury of Apollo. Phaedra is tainted, like her sister Ariadne. There is a sadness when we recall the innocent she was as a child, shedding tears when she thought Theseus had died in the bull ring. There is grim justice in the Greek idea of consent: “I will not offer my death to strangers, like Oedipus of Thebes. Let Father Poseidon have it, to keep against my people's need. There will be a time, as my dream foretold. In the dream they had no king with them, maybe he would not make the offering. They knew me, and cried my name. Some harper had brought it down to them. While the bard sings and the child remembers, I shall not perish from off the Rock.” (p.238)

I must admit that I enjoyed The King Must Die more than this book, and readers should definitely read that book first. It lays down an emotional foundation that the mere recap of events cannot capture. I also found the love passages between Theseus and Hippolyta overly drawn out. For these reasons alone, I have given the book four stars instead of five.

[Nicky · Rating 2 out of 5]

The Bull from the Sea is quite similar to The King Must Die, and is an immediate sequel to it. I started it with less hope than I began The King Must Die, and ended up skimming most of it because I just don't like Theseus -- I don't like his self-justifications, his treatment of women, his self-absorption... If we're meant to like him, Mary Renault has failed, in my view.

Is he realistic, for his time period, does he match with what I know of the myth? Yes, I'd say. And Mary Renault's attention to detail is fantastic: I feel as if I've seen the scenes and characters she describes. It's just the narrator she's chosen, for the most part, that makes me dislike this book.

Maybe I'll enjoy Mary Renault's work better with a different cast of characters. I have her books about Alexander to read, at some point.

[Rick Davis · Rating 5 out of 5]

(Note: As I also said when I reviewed The King Must Die, pagans act like pagans in this book. If you've read Suetonius you should be fine.)

A while back I posted a review of a historical fiction book that just didn’t work. I am happy to have something now to compare it to in order to show how historical fiction ought to work. The Bull from the Sea by Mary Renault is excellent. Last year I read The King Must Die which told the story of the legendary Theseus growing up as a young man in Troizen, learning of his true identity as prince of Athens, and going off to fight in the labyrinth of King Minos as a bull-leaper. The Bull from the Sea picks up from the exact point at which The King Must Die left off and continues the story of Theseus through his many adventures and all the way up through his death (Hint: it’s been foreshadowed continually since the first book).

What makes The Bull from the Sea a greater book than Helen of Troy? Both take place sometime in the 1200s BC, during the Mycenaean Age, both deal with legendary characters and events, and both are trying to bring a touch of realism to their respective stories. However, the Mary Renault fully enters into the worldview and culture of the Mycenaean time period. There are no jarring moments when modern sensibilities clash with ancient ideas. There are no politically correct characters who seem far too contemporary with today to fit into an ancient context. Interestingly this very fact, which I believe to be the book’s greatest strength, is one of the things some reviewers have criticized. Some say that the book is misogynistic because it depicts women in a negative light or it depicts Theseus treating women badly. As for the first accusation, those who make it really need to understand how free indirect speech works in a novel. For those who make the second accusation, that Theseus treats women badly, I respond, “Of course he does!” Aside from the oddball Spartans (and their oddness developed at a much later date than this story takes place) the Greeks were very demeaning toward women. Plato’s modest suggestion in The Republic that women have the same sort of souls as men was shocking in the 5th century BC. Should we expect Theseus to be a perfect gentleman in the 13th century BC? Overall, the best way to present these cultural differences is to enter into them for the sake of the writing and avoid authorial asides and censures. Good readers will appreciate the immersion into another culture while still being able to objectively discern whether they should want to imitate that culture.

What is covered in this story? Theseus becomes a pirate, he meets centaurs (spelled phonetically as “kentaurs” in this book), he fights the Amazon priestess Hippolyta and wins her hand, and he contracts an official and disastrous marriage with Phaedra. All the stories in the legend are transformed here. Renault has a way to taking mythical elements and making them realistic without robbing them of their wonder. The kentaurs, for example, are not half men/half horse; they are a primitive and wild people living in the mountains like cavemen, who have a way with horses and who possess an amazing knowledge of natural medicines and poisons far surpassing those of the Hellenic physicians.

The gods in these stories may or may not exist. Renault doesn’t go the route of having shiny, bearded men in togas, and everything that happens in the story could conceivably be explained without the gods. However, being sucked into the story it’s not hard to see why everyone believes in the gods. It’s a fun question to play with as you read: “Do the gods really exist in this fictional world or not?”

Finally, there are a number of great cameos in the story. Theseus meets Iphigenia and Oedipus at Colonus. Theseus’s friend Pirithous tells him the story of Jason and the quest for the golden fleece. Achilles and Patroclus even make a brief appearance near the end of the story, as the story closes shortly before the Trojan War would begin.

To summarize: If you are a fan of Greek mythology or of any well-written historical fiction, I highly recommend The Bull from the Sea by Mary Renault.

5/5 stars

[Judy · Rating 4 out of 5]

In her sequel to The King Must Die, Mary Renault completes her fictional retelling of the legend of Theseus, Greek hero, bull leaper, mythical son of Poseidon, ruler of Athens. In the way of larger-than-life heroes he comes to downfall and death. It is almost enough to make one give up hope in our dreams to either be heroes/heroines or be saved by them.

Then again, he had adventure, danger, pleasure, even love. In this latter part of his life he returns from Crete, puts his glorious bull leaper days behind him, and tries to settle down and be a good King. He does well, he makes his kingdom more just, and he prospers.

Theseus is a high energy restless dude though and likes to go off with his pirate friends. During one of those adventures he meets his female counterpoint, Hippolyta. Although she is sworn to the Amazon goddess, she gives it all up to go with him and be the love of his life.

Meanwhile, for political reasons, Theseus must wed Cretan princess Phaedra to whom he was earlier betrothed. He has a son by each woman. It does not turn out well.

One of the central themes of both novels is the conflict between those who worshipped the Earth Mother, a matriarchal belief system, and those who saw their Kings as intermediaries between humans and the Sky Gods. Theseus is the King who thwarts the Earth Mother traditions of old and brings about full patriarchy in Greece.

As any good feminist scholar knows, this is the age old battle of the sexes, lost by women long long ago. Whether or not the result has been or ever will be good for the people of Earth, it makes for great tales. The Legend of Theseus is one of them and Mary Renault tells it extremely well.

[Daniel Myatt · Rating 4 out of 5]

Loved this read, it's a wonderfully detailed telling of Theseus after he kills the Minotaur and his journey to becoming King.

Mary Renault has a wonderful style of writing and an eye for detail that no reader can ignore.

Stunning.

[Aldi · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book is gorgeously written, because of course it is. I’m also not enjoying it at all. Theseus has been awful all along, but at least in the first book he’s still super-young so you can chalk *some* of his grossness up to him being a dumb teenage boy, and the adaptation of the mythology was really interesting. This… is basically just boring little adventures stacked on top of each other, presented by a POV who is entirely joyless, humourless, self-absorbed, and a raging misogynist. Fun. Also you can tell the author did not think those were awful things to be at all. Double fun.

I would’ve probably slogged on because it is a short book and did I mention the writing is beautiful. BUT I just got to the part with Hippolyta, the only woman Theseus (and Renault) approve of, but only because she acts as manly as possible and is therefore not quite as useless as all other women, and even then she still urgently needs to be robbed of all agency and subjugated entirely to Theseus’s will, because he saw her once and decided she was his fate and needed to be his property.

So I was all set to grit my teeth and get on with it and maybe try to look forward to the part where some shitty things finally happen to Theseus, but then I realised I have the amazing ability to just… not continue reading this book that's making me actively miserable?



So yeah. This does not spark joy. I’m out.

[Lisa (Harmonybites) · Rating 5 out of 5]

My introduction to Mary Renault was The King Must Die, the first of two novels about Theseus--it was actually assigned reading in high school. What impressed me so much there was how she took a figure out of myth and grounded him historically. After that I quickly gobbled up all of Renault's works of historical fiction set in Ancient Greece. The two novels about Theseus and the trilogy centered on Alexander the Great are undoubtedly her most famous of those eight novels.

This book is the sequel to The King Must Die. It's no less remarkable in taking the bare bones of myth and giving it flesh, transporting you into the world of the past and making Theseus credible as a person who lived and breathed, and not some fantastic figure. If I enjoyed this less--well, it's definitely the more melancholy work. The King Must Die was about Theseus the hero, and it's a great adventure story. This one, well, is more Greek tragedy than Greek myth, and after falling in love with Theseus in the first book, it's sad to read of his undoing. I'd still name this one of the best works of historical fiction I've ever read, one that cemented my love of historical fiction and fed a hunger to learn more about Ancient Greece.

[Jane · Rating 3 out of 5]

Sequel to Renault's The King Must Die, this is her retelling of the further story of Theseus. He returns to Athens, claims his throne, lifelong friendship with Pirithoos, liaison with Hippolyta and birth of their son, Hippolytus, marriage with Phaedra, her attempted betrayal and murder. Then Theseus breaks off his narrative right before his death on the island of Skyros. Very enjoyable, but I didn't feel it was quite up to Renault's usual standard, just a continuation of the Theseus myth.

[Iset · Rating 5 out of 5]

As in this book's prequel, we are thrown right into the middle of the action from the word go, but because "The Bull from the Sea" is a sequel to "The King Must Die", as readers we find our feet immediately, having read the events of "The King Must Die" and knowing instantly the situation in which Theseus finds himself. Once again, the book is told in first person, from Theseus' point of view - clearly he is recollecting his own past, but nothing is given away about how events will eventually unfold.

The plot arc is less obvious here than the classic coming of age tale which characterised "The King Must Die", but in a way "The Bull from the Sea" follows the coming of age tale in reverse. Having won his place as king of Athens, Theseus as an adult must lay down its laws and governance, and as a young man encounters Oedipus in an echo of what he himself will become, and also finds bond friends in Pirithoos and Hippolyta. However, as he grows older, events fall out of Theseus' control. The triumphant heroic epic of the first half of Theseus' life, covered in "The King Must Die", is mirrored by the second half of his life and turns into a tragic epic. Again, this cannot be put down entirely to Mary Renault, but the legend of Theseus itself, however Renault highlights these stark contrasts well, and "The King Must Die" and "The Bull from the Sea" are very comparable in this way.

There's not much new to say about the quality of writing in this sequel, since it matches the high standards of the first book. On the historical accuracy front, Renault is as ever extremely good, considering that she was writing in 1962 with only the historical and archaeological knowledge of that time. Renault addresses the fantastical elements of the Theseus myth with realistic and plausible interpretations, too, which is no easy task. Renault understood her subject intimately, and brings Theseus, and the Bronze Age Aegean, absolutely to life. As a reader I was sucked into the world she created on the page and at times forgot that I wasn't right by Theseus' side through all his adventures. There was never a single dull moment, and Renault hits each and every note perfectly, not once falling down in terms of literary quality. Thoughtful, clever, gripping. A true classic. Highly recommended to anyone who is interested in ancient history.

[JLJ · Rating 5 out of 5]

She raised her brows. She had put on her cap of Phrygian leather lined with bronze. The scarlet flaps fell on her neck and cheeks, bright as a pheasant, but left her face clear to see. I said to her, 'This is all - I love you. You are my life's love. I came here for you, to win you or to die. Do as you must, as your law commands you; I will not have you disgraced for me. If I die it was my fate, and I ran to meet it. Be free of my blood. May sorrow never come near you. My shade will love you, even in the house of Hades under the earth.'
She stood with gleaming arms under the fading sky and the little moon, straight, slight and strong; and I saw in the eyes of the king and warrior a startled maiden, who since childhood had not spoken with a man. She looked at me dumbly. Then grasping at the thing she knew, she cried, 'I must kill you! You saw the Mystery!'
'Yes, you must try. Come to me with your honor, for in yours is mine now. Come, begin.'

Mary Renault continues the tale of Theseus with his meeting of his most trusted friend, Pirithoos, their roving adventures and with Theseus' romance with the Queen of the Amazons, Hippolyta. And although Theseus' intentions in the original myth are dubious at best (he typically captures the Queen), in the hands of Mary Renault, their story is one for the ages. They meet as equals, Theseus wins Hippolyta's hand and never attempts to tame her. Her glory and honor as a strategist, warrior and ruler are as dear to him as his own. Their relationship was the highlight of the book for me.

Of course, those who know the myth know it does not end well. Hippolyta gives Theseus a son, and the machinations of his Cretan wife will result in tragedy for the household. Theseus loses the favor of the gods and would have fallen into obscurity, if not for everything he had built, and the Athenians continue honoring him. As Plutarch says : His tomb is a sanctuary and refuge for fleeing slaves, and all men of low estate who fear the mighty; in memory that Theseus while he lived defended the oppressed and heard the suppliant's prayer with kindness.

[Don · Rating 5 out of 5]

(FROM MY BLOG) Theseus was one of the great legendary Greek heroes.  Much of what we know of Greek civilization comes from Athenian writers, and Theseus was to Athens what Romulus was to Rome.  He inherited a small kingdom -- really not much more than the Acropolis itself -- from his father, and by force and by diplomacy, he forged a united kingdom out of all the tiny villages that stretched across the plain of Attica.

A couple of weeks ago, I discussed certain aspects of Mary Renault's historical reconstruction of the Theseus legend in The King Must Die.  That book covered Theseus's legendary descent from the god Poseidon, his actual descent from the King of Athens, his childhood in the Peloponnesian coastal kingdom of Troezen, his father's eventual acknowledgement of paternity, Theseus's sudden transport to Crete to face the bull ring and the Minotaur, the earthquake that leveled the palace (the "Labyrinth") at Knossos, and his struggle to overthrow Minoan rule over Crete and its domination of the Greek world.  The novel ends with Theseus's return to Athens.

I've now re-read, after many years, Mary Renault's sequel -- The Bull from the Sea.  In my earlier post, I was interested in discussing certain aspects of The King Must Die.  I didn't actually review the book (a book that has been reviewed by hundreds of writers, professional and amateur).  I'll just toss in my belated opinion -- The King Must Die brilliantly recreates the Minoan world, and the primitive Hellene societies that the Minoans dominated. 

The King Must Die also brilliantly ties together the sometimes conflicting legends concerning Theseus -- including his encounter with the Minotaur in the Labyrinth -- and makes some cohesive sense out of them.  If the Theseus legend has some origin in the life and exploits of an actual person, Renault may have given as good a description of that person's life and times as anyone in our own day could produce.  The "Goodreads" book review site asks us to give books we review a number of stars, from one to five.  With no hesitation, I gave the Renault novel five stars.

I also give The Bull from the Sea five stars.  The plot of the earlier volume led up to a dramatic climax with the earthquake and Theseus's leadership of the anti-Minoan revolt.  The Bull from the Sea lacks a climax that is quite so identifiable.  But the central event is perhaps Theseus's exploration of the Black Sea shoreline, where he encounters a fierce band of Amazons -- female devotees of Artemis -- whose leader he defeats in combat.  As an agreed consequence of the defeat, the leader (Hippolyta) becomes first his captive, then his lover, and ultimately his de facto queen.

The plot is too intricate to summarize in this blog post.  But Renault does a masterful job of tying together the many legends of Theseus's exploits into a single coherent tale-- a tale as free of supernatural interventions as possible.  At the same time, she presents a moving love story -- the relationship between Theseus and the only woman he was ever able to truly love -- a woman as courageous and as strong as himself, Hippolyta.  She also presents a moving story of his tragic relationship with their son Hippolytos -- a boy he could never understand, a son as courageous and strong-minded as himself, but his total opposite in many ways.

"When I was small," he said, "I asked you once why the guiltless suffer, too, when the gods are angry.  And you said to me, 'I do not know.'  You who were my father, and the King.  For that I have always loved you."

I made him some kind answer, wondering if I should ever make him out.

As a boy, Hippolytos had once asked his father to explain the purpose of man.

I had never heard such a question.  It made me shrink back; if a man began asking such things, where would be the end of it?  It was like peering into a dark whirlpool with a deep and spinning center, going down and down. ...  "That," I said, "is the business of the gods, who made us." 


"Yes, but for what?  We ought to be good for it, whatever it is.  How can we live, until we know."

The politician and soldier stares at the philosopher, his own flesh and blood, and finds him inscrutable.

The Bull from the Sea also ties the Theseus story together with other Greek legends.  We encounter Medea, Oedipus, Antigone, the battle between the Lapiths and the Centaurs, and Achilles.  Yes, that Achilles.  It had never occurred to me that the Trojan War occurred in the generation following that of Theseus, as the Mycenaeans supplanted the Minoans as a leading power in the region.  And Theseus's son by his legal wife, the Minoan Phaedra, was Akamus, who as an adult was involved in the Trojan horse story.

All biographies and biographical tales are tragic in some respect, if they are written truly, because human life is tragic.  Theseus ends as an old man, suffering the after effects of a paralyzing stroke.  While visiting an old friend, the King of Skyros, he reflects on his life.  He had accomplished much, he recognized, but Athens was already corrupt and being weakened by poor leadership.  Its unity, for which he had devoted his life, was being broken up by ambitious regional leaders.  He wondered what had been the use of it all. 

His host was eager to introduce Theseus to his teenage son, Achilles.  His son, the host king said, hero worshipped Theseus and was eager to meet him.  Theseus was Achilles's "touchstone for a man," his father confided.

I lay down, being tired, and sent off my servants.  I was thinking, before I fell asleep, of the flashing, light-footed boy, awaiting tomorrow.  It would be good to spare him that.  Let him keep this Theseus who speaks for the god within him.  Why change a god for a lame old man with a twisted mouth.

Theseus recalls the hereditary duties of kingship which his family owed the gods.  When the king's time has come, the king goes consenting to his death, giving his life to strengthen his people.  The palace at Skyros is built on a high cliff above the sea, just as his own palace on the Acropolis is perched high above the plain.

He shuffles out the door, and down the path toward the cliff.  The tide is coming in.

[abi · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5*

well, theseus died. and i suffered to see it. i did this to myself

[Brok3n · Rating 5 out of 5]

Theseus retold

I read The King Must Die and The Bull from the Sea in High School (about 1971, I'm guessing), then subsequently read everything by Mary Renault I could get my hands on. That, I guess, shows what I thought of them. Although her other books are good, The King Must Die was the most unputdownable.

The two books are, of course, a retelling of the classic myth of Theseus -- the demigod son of a mortal woman and Poseidon (god of the sea and also the Earthshaker) and Aegeus, king of Athens. (Son of two fathers? Yup, apparently that's something a god can do.) In classical myth Theseus went to Crete, where he killed the Minotaur with the help of the princess Ariadne, whence he returned to Athens (not yet the democracy it was famously to become) to be King. In Renault's telling most of the magical events of the myth are rationalized so that, if you want to, you can view them as nonmagical. For instance, instead of having a bull's head, Renault's Minotaur is just the large, brutal son of Queen Pasiphaë. Drawing on Cretan archeology, Renault portrays Theseus in the Cretan court as a bull-dancer, one of the youths who risk their lives in shows with live bulls.

I remember The King Must Die as a very sexy novel. (Not that, as a High School student in the 70s, I had a lot of basis for comparison.) It is no more explicit than you would expect of a novel published for a general audience in 1958. But Renault leaves you in no doubt that Theseus was a man who wanted to have sex with women, and whom women wanted to have sex with, and did. In my memory there is no convincing love story in the novel.

In contrast to several of Renault's other novels, relationships in The King Must Die are, as far as my High school memories serve me, exclusively heterosexual. (For the record, let's just stipulate that if there were subtle hints of queer relationships in The King Must Die (or even unsubtle hints), high school me undoubtedly missed them.) Theseus is a man who is proud of his masculinity. Several of Renault's other books feature queer relationships -- something that was almost unheard of in popular literature of that time.

Blog review.

[Christopher Hansen · Rating 5 out of 5]

I greatly enjoyed this book. It surprises me a little that a piece of fiction this beautiful is not more widely popular.

Like its prequel, The King Must Die, this book is a partial retelling of the Greek myth of Theseus. The story is unique in that the author reframes the supernatural events of the original story in a way that makes natural causes plausible. Theseus himself continues to believe in the gods, but instead of worshiping them he blames them for his misfortunes.

The story is also remarkable for its frank inclusion of homosexuality. Renault herself was a lesbian, and same-sex romances feature in most of her historical fiction. Theseus himself is portrayed as straight, but several minor characters have lesbian relationships. Very unusual for a book published in 1962!

I appreciated that Renault was able to include these details without becoming revisionist in her overall treatment. Indeed, this ability to tell a story that is substantively the same as the old familiar myths, while very different in tone and style, is one of the book's greatest strengths.

Beyond these details, though, this book is simply an excellent piece of historical fiction. While the first book was the story of Theseus' ascension to kingship, this is the story of his betrayal and eventual downfall. The story is honest and sad, but also beautiful. Even as king, Theseus can't always succeed; he blames his fate on the gods, but I would just say "that's life".

Some other reviews have criticized Theseus' character, in particular his behavior and attitudes toward women. And I would agree that Theseus is not intended to be perfect. However, part of it is simply that Theseus is an unusually honest picture of what an ancient Greek actually would be like. He is not intended to live up to the ideals of our own culture; he is intended to present an idea of virtue in a society very different from our own. Making Theseus a modern-day man in an ancient Greek's skin would have just been dishonest.

[Dfordoom · Rating 5 out of 5]

Mary Renault’s The Bull from the Sea, published in 1962, is a modern retelling of the legend of the Greek hero Theseus. Renault was deeply influenced by Sir James Frazer’s The Golden Bough and by Frazer’s theories of all religions being based on an original fertility cult that involved a sacrifice of a king. These days Frazer’s work is regarded with much greater scepticism, but it has to be aid that it was the inspiration for some superb and enthralling historical fiction. She was also influenced by the excavations of the Minoan palace of Knossos by Sir Arthur Evans – the book starts with Theseus in Crete, as part of an annual tribute of children paid by the Athenians to the Minoans. Her account of the bull-leaping which she believed was the origin of the myth of the half-man, half-bull Minotaur is intriguing. Her version of the relationship between Theseus and the amazon queen Hippolyta is also fascinating. This book is the sequel to The King Must Die, although you don’t absolutely need to read that book first. The Bull from the Sea is beautifully written and Renault had a knack for creating appealing characters who genuinely feel like they belong to a different age from our own. I highly recommend it.

[Sarah Kauthen · Rating 2 out of 5]

I've never struggled so long with so few pages. Mary Renault writes beautifully about ancient Greece, a subject she clearly loves, and I respect that devotion. Clearly she takes her subject very seriously because she is utterly humourless. This is the only book I have ever read which hasn't a single joke, not a single instance of sarcasm or ironic humour - even situational - it is bone dry and super serious 100% of the time. She may have been going for realism but there is nothing realistic about a life devoid of laughter. Even on the battlefield, there is gallows humour. Even in myth, when Demeter lost Persephone, the mortal Baubo broke the tension by making the goddess laugh with a rude joke. I found the main characters to be entirely unlikable. The only kind character is brutally killed and dies in terrible pain - take that GRR Martin. And the way she writes about women felt pathologically antagonistic. I also disagree with her interpretation of myth but I don't desire to get into a pedantic historical argument here. I've just read reviews suggesting this is her weakest book and perhaps I'll give her Alexander series a go in the future but, for now, I'm striking her off the TBR.

[Katie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I felt that this book was less successful than The King Must Die, but also that it tries to tell a more complicated story. It seems strange to me that Renault did not divide her treatment of the Theseus myth into three books rather than two. At the end of The King Must Die, Theseus is still a teenager; The Bull from the Sea picks up exactly where that book leaves off and must carry him all the way to his death. There is so much crammed in here--his early kingship in Athens, the capture of Hippolyta and his years-long relationship with her, the Scythian war, the marriage to Phaedra and all the attendant disasters--that it would be almost impossible to get the pacing just right. Still, the final third of the book is so compelling and sits in such strange contrast to all that has gone before that I had to go ahead and give it the four-star rating.

[Kate Gardner · Rating 5 out of 5]

“but a man can only give what he has, being what he is.”

Mary Renault has done it again. A brilliant punch in the gut.

[Liliana · Rating 3 out of 5]

I FINALLY got a version of the second book in this duology, and I was ecstatic after loving the first one so much. This one wasn't as enjoyable for me, but it was a solid read nonetheless, and one that I'd recommend.

Renault continues Theseus' story pretty much where she left off in the first book. That definitely contributed to evoking the same feeling of the first one for me, and I was hooked from the beginning. As the story progresses, however, more years pass in chunks, and all of a sudden Theseus is a middle-aged man and I start feeling rather distanced from him. I thought up until the point where he meets Hippolita the story flows rather well and is interesting, but after that I didn't care quite as much. Possibly also due to me listening to the audiobook more sparingly around then.
After having had glimpses from the narrator himself into Theseus' future in The King Must Die, the second half just didn't hold as much mystery to me.

Regarding the characters, though I thought they were quite interesting here as well, they weren't as many or as explored in-depth as the Bull Dancers, for example. I found myself missing them a lot!
In terms of writing an interweaving of myth in the retelling, I think Renault is so very skill. Her prose is just so beautiful and really makes me dream in Ancient Greek. I have found it a bit difficult to look past some of the mysoginy in this duology, though it suits the time and I have read that it was done quite intentionally and in an ironic sort of way. The context of falling matriarchies in favour of patriarchies definitely seems to suggest it, but the narration and writing is not very explicit of that intent. Some things seem to cast Theseus in far too favourable a light than would be given to a man in such a situation, but that's just how this duology goes.

Please don't let these comments deter you from picking this up. If you want a glowing review of Renault's retelling of Theseus' myth, you need look no further than my review of the first book, The King Must Die. But I did want to justify why my rating and enjoyment was lessened in this second book, and for that I have to focus a bit more on the negatives. If you want to skip the second book, as well, you totally can, it can very much be a standalone. But I would still suggest it as we are presented with such treasures as Hippolita, Hippolitus and Piritoos.

Also, as a side note, it was eerie listening to the part about the earthquake in Athens and soon after reading the news that in real life that happened on the same day. Eek.

[Sotiris Karaiskos · Rating 3 out of 5]

In this book the author deals with some of Theseus's other adventures, leaving aside others that may have been considered too mythical or to cast a shadow over his positive profile. The problem is that most of them are narrated rather hastily, without much depth and many details, with the attempt to rationalize them again taking away something from their dynamic. Of course, in some other cases, she manages much better, such as the meeting with the Amazons and the story of Phaedra. Especially in the first case, the narrative has an emotional intensity that makes this point stand out from the rest of the book and if the author had devoted more space to the invasion of the Amazons I would definitely be talking about something extraordinary. Even these, however, are not enough to change my general impression that this book is the product of a less successful attempt to approach mythology. It's not bad but neither is it very special.

Σε αυτό το βιβλίο η συγγραφέας ασχολείται με κάποιες από τις υπόλοιπες περιπέτειες του Θησέα, αφήνοντας κάποιες άλλες στην άκρη που ίσως θεωρήθηκαν υπερβολικά μυθικές ή ότι ρίχνουν μία σκιά στο θετικό του προφίλ. Το πρόβλημα είναι ότι τις περισσότερες από αυτές τις αφηγείται μάλλον βιαστικά, χωρίς πολλή εμβάθυνση και πολλές λεπτομέρειες, με την προσπάθεια εκλογίκευσης τους πάλι να αφαιρεί κάτι από τη δυναμική τους. Βέβαια, σε κάποιες άλλες περιπτώσεις τα καταφέρνει πολύ καλύτερα, όπως για παράδειγμα τη συνάντηση με τις Αμαζόνες και την ιστορία της Φαίδρας. Ειδικά στην πρώτη περίπτωση η αφήγηση έχει μία συναισθηματική ένταση που κάνει αυτό το σημείο να ξεχωρίζει η κατά πολύ από το υπόλοιπο βιβλίο και αν η συγγραφέας είχε αφιερώσει περισσότερο χώρο στη δύσκολη των Αμαζόνων θα μιλούσα σίγουρα για κάτι εξαιρετικό. Ακόμα και αυτά, όμως, δεν αρκούν για να μου αλλάξουν την γενικότερη εντύπωση ότι αυτό το βιβλίο είναι προϊόν μία λιγότερο επιτυχημένης προσπάθειας προσέγγισης της μυθολογίας. Δεν είναι κακό αλλά ούτε και κάτι πολύ ξεχωριστό.

[C.J · Rating 4 out of 5]

my copy is secondhand and tattered like all my renault books. very fun and surprisingly emotional retelling for a rather unsympathetic hero.

[Charlotte · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is second in a series about Theseus - one of the divine heroes of ancient Greece. The first book, The King Must Die, describes Theseus' childhood and young adulthood in the Cretan Labyrinth. Its sequel moves onto Theseus' subsequent life, as a great leader of the Attic people, and as lover/consort of both Hippolyta and Phaedra.

It is written as a historical novel, but the protagonist is someone who was (almost certainly) a myth. Mary Renault provides semi-realist explanations of events that are non-realist or supernatural in mythology, such as the Minotaur. You could say her real talent lies in bringing to life a sense of how those wild and wonderful ancient stories might have played out. With human beings who were both recognisably human and also not quite exactly like us.

As in other Renault novels, the main character of Theseus is a study of masculinity as much as anything. Perhaps not masculinity exactly as we know it today, but certainly an older form of it. Male leaders are honourable, strong, courageous, and, perhaps most importantly, bound to their gods and their destiny. Women are part of their lives but mostly keep to their own activities in the patriarchy - sex, motherhood, and so on. Theseus is a bit of a ladies man, but halfway through the book, he meets his match when he comes across and falls instantly in love with Hippolyta, leader of the Amazons. This part of the book grabbed me the most.

Without spoiling the plot, the descriptions of Hippolyta and her Maidens of the Moon (Amazon women who worship the goddess Artemis) are quite magical. These women are different from the run-of-the-mill consorts and slave-girls we see earlier. They are strong and powerful in themselves; they have their own society, rituals and abilities as warriors. I have no idea if Renault saw herself as a feminist, but her vision of the Amazons has much to recommend a feminist reading. Through the eyes of a man (Theseus), we see how much more interesting, active and self-actualised the Amazons are, than the roles usually assigned to their gender. Theseus is understandably bewitched.

Renault was a lesbian writer known for writing about gay male relationships in the ancient world (see The Alexander Trilogy among others). In this book, her characterisation of the all-female Amazon matriarchy and Hippolyta is joyfully sapphic. She doesn't get lost in modern comment on this, however. She is careful to keep the actions and thoughts of her characters in the time in which they lived. For example, alongside his love of women, Theseus has a very close, almost romantic friendship with his best buddy, Pirithoos. People in the ancient world simply did not view sexuality or identity in the way we do now.

I recommend this book as heartily as I recommend all Renault's ancient world novels. They take you out of yourself and into a world that is full of heightened sense and emotion.