The reverse of Emily Hauser’s hardback Mythica is covered in gushing reviews and rightly so. Hauser ‘vividly brings the women of the Bronze Age to life’ in an academic-cross-novella book that grips and guides the reader through Homer, archaeology, and underappreciated historical figures, consistently offering accessible, detailed information as well as a thought-provoking (re)examination of how the women in Homer’s epics and women in other contexts have been interpreted throughout history.

The book is divided into 16 chapters, a semi-autobiographical introduction, a detailed bibliography, notes, names and glossary, index, and pictures throughout (with coloured plates slotted between the pages of Chapters 8 and 13). A contemplative coda, encouraging the reader to be a discerning one, completes the conclusionary style of Chapter 16, where Hauser ends where she begins: Penelope’s voice, her home and her identity. Each chapter begins without fail with a small fictional introduction, though for those less familiar with Hauser’s work, some confusion may arise as to why these appear in the first place. However, since Hauser writes in a novella-esque style throughout, it becomes clear that these fictional introductions encourage the reader to consider the individual perspectives of the female protagonists of each chapter. This is followed by descriptive chapter openings narrating the lives and discoveries of certain historians and archaeologists. A particular highlight is the clear and accessible explanation of Linear B, complete with easy-to-understand diagrams and a look at the history of academic study on the subject. These introductory topics draw the reader in to look beyond the Homeric epics and consider how figures like Helen, Briseis, Nausicaa, and others can be brought together in an interpretive exploration of Bronze Age women and the history of how these ancient women have been viewed. One could say that these chapter openings narrate not just topics to orient the reader in the wider significance of studying these Homeric women but also ground the reader in the art of storytelling itself. This provokes self-awareness; a self-awareness that (hopefully) stays with every reader, highlighting the fact that we all carry our own biases, and it is vital to reflect on how this impacts our interpretation of stories, history, and everything in between. This self-awareness is arguably at the heart of this book, something that is encouraged and necessary to embark on Hauser’s (re)examinations of the Homeric works.

The chapters vary in length, but all reveal exciting insights about the women of Homer, Bronze Age Mediterranean society, and scholarship through the ages. Chapters 1–9 feature in Section 1, ‘Women in War’, with mortal non-combatants Helen, Briseis, Chryseis, Hecuba, Andromache, and Cassandra each receiving a dedicated chapter to chart their iterations, their ‘voices’ (even for those who have no dialogue in Homer), and ways to discuss these epic characters alongside historical and archaeological evidence. Chapters 7–9 feature goddesses Aphrodite, Hera, and Thetis, with Section 1 closing with the Amazon warrior, Penthesileia. Aphrodite and Hera unusually appear in Chapter 7 together, but it soon becomes clear that Hauser explores divine women and their spheres of influence, and the ‘weapons’ at their disposal (captured in Hera’s seduction of Zeus in the Iliad, and Aphrodite’s entrapment in the Odyssey). Hauser shows in Chapters 8 and 9 how Thetis and Penthesileia are two sides of the Hera/Aphrodite coin in that they, respectively, embody topics of motherhood and female power (for the latter, in both a destructive and sensual capacity). Section 2 turns the reader’s attention to the Odyssey – ‘Women at Home and Away’. Across Chapters 10–16, Hauser discusses the Odyssean women (a term used loosely in Chapter 10 on account of Athena’s shapeshifting nature) in no particular order except for Penelope, featuring as a finale to the book. In order of appearance, Hauser covers the histories and voices of Athena, Calypso, Nausicaa, Arete, Circe, Eurycleia, and Penelope.

Regarding some minor issues with the structure and content, Chapter 1 (pp. 32–33) features a map that would have been better situated just before Chapter 1, as it refers to several women Hauser discusses throughout. Readers would have also benefitted from specific directions to some of the plates (such as the ‘digital AI reconstruction’ of a late Bronze Age woman). Additionally, considering the plethora of sources, there is a surprising lack of references to Quintus’ Posthomerica (only one reference, in Chapter 9). Plenty of women feature prominently in this continuation of the Iliad (written c. 1000 years after Homer), including Helen, Briseis, and Penthesileia, making this text a worthwhile addition to Hauser’s study within the scope of Homeric reception. For example, Hauser discusses Briseis’s limited dialogue in the Iliad (Quintus follows suit exactly); indeed, the prophesied doom of Achilles in the Iliad is a noteworthy talking point for the fate of Briseis. Such points of comparison would have added to the discussions. That said, this criticism supports the foundational idea of this book: that there is plenty more to say about these women, and much more that the women of these epics can say.

Hauser highlights how ideologies consistently shape the recording and interpreting of (ancient) history and will continue to shape our interpretation(s) of the past, present, and future. Teachers will find that not only is the content accessible for a variety of classroom contexts (ranging from archaeological discoveries to literary analysis), but Mythica also challenges the reader’s assumptions, oversights, and the conceit that ‘we know Homer’, a valuable lesson for all. Hauser presents the reader with the often obvious but previously overlooked importance of so many women in the Homeric epics (such as Queen Arete, to whom Odysseus first supplicates). Indeed, Mythica is sometimes a shocking read, confronting us with the bitter realities of the status of women in times of war, matters that have in the past been grossly underestimated. Sometimes, we see what we want to see. Other times, we need others to show us what has been there all along. Hauser’s Mythica is ‘a stirring, enlightening, and fascinating exploration’ of the women who inhabit the ancient epics that we may have grown too comfortable with.