The most realistic historical fiction set in ancient Greece, Rome or Egypt

Some authors have an innate faculty for bringing the dim and distant past into such razor-sharp clarity that it’s hard not to believe that they were once present at the time. That’s how it is with Mary Renault (real name Eileen Mary Challans): any number of her books could have made this list.

What I particularly love about this duology (the sequel The Bull From the Sea isn’t quite as strong) is that Renault retold the ancient tale of Theseus and the Minotaur as historical fiction. Though she followed the main beats of the well-known story, she boldly stripped it of gods, monsters, and magic, and the narrative doesn’t suffer at all from it. If anything, it makes it even more compelling because it feels like she has stumbled upon a possible origin to the myth.

I fell in love with ancient history as a child when I first saw pictures of the streets of Pompeii, frozen in time and plaster casts of people and animals buried by volcanic ash. It’s what fired me to study the subject at university, so it was a real thrill – like rediscovering a long-lost friend – when I started this book.

The author paints the Bay of Naples into glittering life as it quite possibly was in AD 79. Also, like all his novels, Harris’ protagonist is a captivating creation, and to go with an aqueduct engineer in this book was a stroke of genius. I was invested from the first line to the last.

Even though it’s more of a YA book, I struggled with this as a teenager, so I picked it back up a few years ago with no great expectations. We were staying in a static home in Cornwall and the weather was vile, morning and night. Perhaps I would have motored through any book given these circumstances. Or perhaps it’s just a magical novel.

I’m going with the latter because it has since become my number-one comfort read. Comradeship, adventure, tension and drama, authentic historical detail, lyrical descriptions of Iron Age Britain… it has it all and more. As it happens, I have only just finished the sequel – The Silver Branch – and this book is a worthy challenger, too!

Though I have always been an unashamed ancient history nerd, ancient Egypt never quite grabbed me as strongly as Greece and Rome. However, I read this book as a callow 17-year-old traveling to Poros to row as part of the crew of a reconstructed ancient Greek trireme. The story utterly captivated me: it is packed full of action, tragedy, historical detail, and heroism, and I could feel the heat of the Egyptian sun on my skin as I read it.

I recently bought a first edition in honour of this memory, and I want to choose the right moment to revisit it. There is an odd footnote, though. The author bizarrely claimed that his book is based upon a set of scrolls discovered in an 18th-century BC Egyptian tomb and that the lead archaeologist passed the translations onto him to transcribe into a novel. Smith discarded this claim in the sequel.

The fact that this trilogy was turned into a stage show is a measure of its fantastic popularity! On the face of it, a set of novels about the machinations of late Republican politics might not hold broad appeal, but it is the genius of Robert Harris to bring the crime and corruption-riddled streets of 1st century BC Rome bursting to life.

Apparently, he spent several years immersing himself in contemporary literature before putting pen to paper, and it really shows. I admired how his research paints vivid background colour without ever stepping upon the toes of the brilliantly drawn characters. I loved his Cicero (and Caesar and Pompey and Antony) and, despite some tough competition, cannot think of any historical figures so authentically portrayed in any other Roman historical fiction.

And yet, for me, it's Cicero's humble secretary, Tiro, who steals the show. I think it was a masterstroke to use this man as the narrator because we can associate much more readily with him than the colossal egos whom he observes.