The most recommended classical antiquity books

What would happen if a randy teenage boy became Emperor of Rome after winning a pitched battle against a usurper? Would the magisterial traditions and decorum of the office triumph over adolescent hormones or vice versa? Actually, there is no need to speculate about the answer, because it happened in real life and was recorded in several ancient histories that have come down to us. This novel, though billed upon its publication as erotic, is quite closely based on those histories. Clue: the hormonal impulses of teenage boys are quite hard to suppress.

I love this unusual and thoughtful book. It looks not at the realities and practicalities of ancient warfare but at how different societies have made use of the striking, impressive, sometimes pitiable spectacle of ancient war.

Roman poets wrote about the last moments of dying warriors, and ancient Greeks conjured up images of the battlefield in song and dance. War as Spectacle also makes space for thinking about how and why later eras refer back to ancient wars, be it the military dictators of modern Greece or the monument-makers of the USA. This work is a rich cultural experience across space and time.  

Lessing was the rare woman among Britain’s pack of Angry Young Men in the late Fifties and early Sixties, and, among her primary targets, was Hollywood’s sometimes thin, hyper-sentimental, maudlin version of love.

The centerpiece of this collection is the gut-punching title story, all about an aging theater actor who tries and fails to rekindle an old flame and then ends up with a brash actress half his age.

His new lady’s view of romance is contemporary—which is to say, ice cold. After sleeping with him, she says, “You know what, George? You’ve just got into the habit of loving. You just want something in your arms, that’s all. What do you do when you’re alone? Wrap yourself in a pillow?”  

Perhaps the best place to start for a novice looking to learn about Roman history. I have had students, friends, and family all tell me that this was the book that really got them excited about ancient Rome.

Beard is a very witty, engaging writer who is able to combine major historical moments with obscure but revealing anecdotes to tell a coherent narrative of Roman history. She also demonstrates, such as in her introductory chapter’s discussion of modern references to the ancient conflict between Cicero and Catiline, the continuing relevance of Roman history to our understanding of politics today.

This book is about eighty years old. I’m probably not far wrong in saying almost every other page is obsolete thanks to archaeological finds and interpretations of existing material, epigraphical, and literary evidence since it appeared. But it’s a wonderful book to read and appreciate how the author uses the evidence available to him to paint a brilliant image of Athenian and indeed Greek economic and commercial life in this period with many fascinating insights. The subject matter might seem unexciting, yet the author brings it alive and makes it really interesting!

Many of us, when young, read Looking-Glass with Carroll’s first work, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, but it was as an adult, eager to reflect philosophically, that I began to appreciate deep puzzles within our language and consciousness – and these are more prominent in Looking-Glass.  

I taught philosophy for many years – oops, not true, I don’t think philosophy can be taught. Rather, I encourage people to step back and think philosophically by confronting paradoxes, using their imagination, and looking beyond appearances. I often recommend Looking-Glass to achieve a sense of bewilderment and the delicious desire to dig into and question everyday assumptions of living.

Contemporary historians usually have a vast amount of material at their disposal and institutional support (libraries, archives, universities) that makes accessing and evaluating this material relatively straightforward. Not so in antiquity. The challenges then were enormous.

I think there is no better introduction to the challenges faced by writers of history in the ancient world than Luke Pitcher’s book. He writes in a lively and accessible style, with lots of examples from the ancient historians themselves but also with many contemporary examples. I like that he encourages the reader to come to his or her own conclusions about various matters.

Rather than lecture, he encourages those interested in ancient historians to become part of a conversation that has been going on since antiquity.

Some of the most original scholarship on Dante in the past fifty or so years has been historical and contextual. This research enables us to understand Dante’s texts more fully in their own immediate contexts, of course, but it also reflects the fact that many readers of Dante become increasingly interested in the wider contexts – ethical, political, philosophical, theological, economic, literary, cultural, etc. – that Dante’s own poetic masterpiece opens up. In thirty chapters, the collaborative volume Dante in Context exemplifies the best of this historical and contextual work, and provides an invaluable introduction to the world of Dante.   

Haunted House so enthralled and inspired me, I bought it three times! It originally came out in a full-scale edition, then in half-size. I bought both, and the smaller version again, as a gift.

This is a pop-up book on steroids. The mechanics behind it is stunning—a tour de farce of paper engineering. The story line is riotous. Smart writing, great illustration, and a super clever concept, Haunted House is a kid’s book only on the surface.

This is a wonderful selection of short stories and novel extracts by early authors of strange, weird, surreal fiction; writers whose subject is the so-called supernatural and who rail against the reduction of life to rational materialism. These works would broadly now be referred to as weird fiction. They are only as weird as the world. The book also contains an excellent introduction by the editor, speaking up for the strange, weird, and surreal.