100 books like Nobody's Princess

Ever since reading this book, I *can’t* think of the original version of the Iliad without referencing his haunting retelling from Patroclus’ perspective. Miller did such an incredible job putting me in the story and making the characters so real that I actively missed them when I put the book down.

It doesn’t hurt that it has some of the most beautiful poetic language I’ve encountered in story form. Helen is more of a background character playing her classic role, but I was still fascinated because Miller plays on the demigod aspect of both Helen and Achilles in a way that makes them steal any scene they’re in. There’s a quiet power to them that transcends the page.    

Another perspective of the Trojan War from a minor player’s perspective, Daughter of Yesterday, is the first mythology retelling I read as a child, and it still holds up. A series of unfortunate events puts the protagonist in Helen of Troy’s household as a companion for her young daughter.

I’d never read a version of the myth that views Helen as a mother, an often-forgotten fact in retellings. Myths are so often taught in isolation that this was the first time I realized these mythological characters like Helen and Cassandra knew each other.

The fact that the main character is a completely powerless child trying her best to survive the chaos around her ramps up the tension and highlights the tragedy of the war. 

I was so excited when this book hit the shelves because the back cover copy read like it would be an adult version of Nobody’s Princess. They are very different books, but this one had the magic of interconnecting myths I craved.

Clytemnestra is featured as a dual protagonist, which was a bonus because I have never seen books that strongly feature Helen’s sister. It delves into the sisters' childhood and follows them through their adulthood into the Trojan War.

I loved how the book morphed from an almost fairy tale feel to a tragedy that perfectly captured the sense of frustration, helplessness, and devastation of the women embroiled in the Trojan War. 

I can’t write a list of Helen of Troy's many faces without including the most famous source material. Though it’s marketed for children, it’s one of the most faithful and accessible adaptations of the Iliad that I’ve ever read.

I loved the illustrations and how the scenes stayed faithful to those written many centuries ago while still packing an emotional punch to a modern-day reader. The ancient classics that spread orally are all translated retellings, so while there’s definitely value in reading the more academic versions, those aren’t any more or less valid than an accessible text with modern language that pulls you into the story.

I highly recommend it to anyone who wants to know the ins and outs of the original to better appreciate retellings. 

Hilary Westfield has always dreamed of being a pirate, but the Very Nearly Honorable League of Pirates doesn’t allow girls to join them.

I know a thing or two about being the only girl in the room, so Hilary’s refusal to accept this is both relatable and aspirational. She takes rollicking adventure into her own hands as she sets sail on a journey with magic, pirates, and an endearing talking gargoyle.

I was deeply moved by this book because it beautifully integrates Zen Buddhism with a powerful focus on compassion and social justice. I am struck by how Manuel combines teachings on mindfulness with insights into racial and gender justice, making the book a profound guide for both personal growth and activism.

The way Manuel encourages cultivating tenderness towards ourselves and others really resonated with me, offering a deeply spiritual yet practical approach to addressing social inequalities. This book has enriched my understanding of both spiritual practice and social awareness, making it a vital read for anyone committed to a compassionate and informed approach to activism.

Ann Leckie is not an author known for standard narration or gender roles, but she is known for great science fiction. Which is why I was astounded and delighted by her fantasy novel, The Raven Tower. Told in the second person, just when you think you know who is spinning the tale…well, I won’t give anything away except to say this is an amazing book filled with gods and rituals, tradition and sacrifice, that will keep you guessing right to the end.

In my book, the protagonist Harriet gets more and more pissed about a whole range of things, one being the fact that she’s got to do so much more than her husband Theo when it comes to the work of running their household.

In All the Rage, Darcy Lockman shows just how pervasive this reality is, and how deeply inconsistent it is with the worldviews of the women and men who find themselves stuck it. This mom-heavy imbalance of household labor is a breaking of a promise, in a way—one that so many of us went into our marriage with, and that remains an ongoing source of tension not only in my book but in homes across the US.

The period after the Civil War known as Reconstruction has long been overlooked by historians and educators; even less has been written about this period from a gendered perspective.

Laura Edwards provides an excellent analysis of the experiences of newly-emancipated women in shaping and surviving the political, social, and economic landscape of Reconstruction. She studies their history through first-hand narratives of how they established households, pursued their legal rights, and claimed their new roles as free women.

The book is not only a fascinating read about Reconstruction, it helped contextualize Edmonia Lewis’s and Meta Fuller’s emancipation sculptures, and their message about the freedwoman’s new identity.

Reading this book is like listening to your incredibly knowledgeable historian friend talk about medieval society over drinks. Janega’s turns of phrase and sharp observations make me laugh, and at the same time, I feel my mind soak up knowledge like a sponge.

This book is about what medieval people thought and why, going back to the philosophies and influences of ancient Greece and Rome. It tackles medieval beauty standards, sexual practices, family life, and work life. It addresses fart jokes and eyeliner, as well as ideas about biology and class disparities. We see women farming, ruling, weaving, brewing, and writing.

Janega argues that it is through seeing the past truly that we can "imagine new futures," making the necessary changes for "a more equitable world."