The Joy of Mythic Retelling
- zenobianeil
- Apr 17
- 5 min read
Updated: Apr 17
Originally published by The Historical Fiction Company April 2023

There have been so many mythic retellings and reimaginings of stories recently, and I am all for it. I love the new novels coming out looking at mythology from different perspectives. I love the TV shows that redo a popular novel or earlier TV show, even the comic book worlds that keep coming in different waves, telling us old stories in new ways.
I have friends who don’t care for some reimaginings. They don’t like it when the new version is unfaithful to the original. I think everybody has the right to choose how they want to remember stories. But for me, seeing a myth or a novel told again with new perspective enriches the original story and our understanding of it as well as making it relevant to our own lives. It’s also a huge tribute to the original story that it is so compelling that it just keeps giving.
One of the marks of a good story is that it’s new but also familiar. I think this is one reason that retellings are so popular. We are at a place in our cultural mindset where we want to see stories from more than one perspective. It’s also a time where stories no longer only belong to one group of people. Myths and famous stories belong to all of us. It’s nice to see them retold in a way that welcomes new readers.
I have been fascinated by Greek mythology since I was a child. Half of my published books are Greek myth retellings. One of the aspects that’s so compelling to me is how the same story can be told again and again and still impart exciting new information.
As both a writer and a reader, I love to explore how myths can be told from different perspectives. I am especially intrigued by stories where the hero is the villain or vice versa. For so much of history, famous stories have been told by the victors, so it’s deeply satisfying to see the story told from the perspective of the vanquished, like Natalie Haynes’s A Thousand Ships or Pat Barker’s The Silence of the Girls, both which focus on the Trojan War from the point of view of Trojan women.
Since so many Greek myths center around things being done to women, many novels and stories coming out now are focused on myths that make women the protagonists. It’s common in Greek mythology for a woman, Titaness, or even a goddess to be a passive character. Through much of history, story from women’s perspectives have been lacking. This new wave of Greek myth retellings is changing that and adding layers to stories that had seemed finalized. It’s refreshing to see classical myths told from the voices of those who had been voiceless, of characters who had always been mentioned but never had a chance to tell their own side of the story. Some familiar examples are Circe in Circe by Madeline Miller, Penelope by Claire North in Ithaca, and the women who were the losers in the Trojan war in A Thousand Ships by Natalie Haynes.
One of my favorite parts of reading and writing retellings is that we can get to “be” in the ancient world. Readers have a chance to experience the events we grew up learning about (or are just learning about the first time.) It’s magical to be in the time of the gods, like being in a fairytale. Traditional myths are often told in ways that leave big questions. Why would Ariadne betray her family and people and go off with a stranger? Did Persephone love Hades? How did Briseis feel about Achilles? When we read a retelling, we get to relive the myth and experience it as if we were there.
I love reading mythic retellings that offer contrary views of gods and mortals. I recently read Amalia Carosella’s passionate The Lion of Troezen where Poseidon is a giving lover, completely concerned with consent. Then I read Stone Blind by Natalie Haynes where she tells the traditional story of Medusa. Her Poseidon is nothing more than a rapist. As a reader, I have space for both these stories. Myths are multifaceted. I don’t feel like there’s one true version of a myth because myths have always changed throughout time. They have always been malleable in a way that every new teller of a story can change it a bit. Since ancient times we have had the standard version of Helen of Troy and the alternate version cited by Herodotus that she was actually in Egypt the whole time.
While researching my most recent mythic retelling, Ariadne Unraveled, I read that no one had died in more ways in myth than Ariadne. As a writer, I had choices to make, and though I made reference to them all, I chose one final way. But all the different versions of myth work for me because myths are always remade by being reinterpreted, and I believe that each reinterpretation makes them more accessible to each generation.
One of my own issues with Greek mythology in the past is how it became literally whitewashed—meaning that statues that were once painted in vibrant colors were made white and the heroes and heroines were frequently mistranslated into blonds. To the ancient Greeks, describing someone with “golden hair” was a way of making them godlike. It did not actually mean they were blond. This misunderstanding created a lot of translations of golden haired/ blond, fair skinned heroes, which led to a lot of images of Greek heroes, mortals, gods and goddesses as blond, which meant that a lot of kids reading Greek mythology picture books, like D'aulaires Book of Greek Myths, did not see themselves represented in these stories.
In actuality, the ancient world was a diverse place with people who had many skin tones and hair colors. I’ve always loved D’aulaires Book of Greek Myths, but looking through it recently it struck me how many of the characters are fair with blond hair. It’s refreshing to me to read or see images from Greek myth with characters with a variety of hair colors and skin tones.
My own Ariadne has dark skin and black hair as the Minoans did based on my research. The BBC show “Troy: Fall of a City” chose Black actors to play Achilles, Patroclus, and Zeus. Other historical fiction writers have also depicted people in the ancient world as Black or brown, including the fantastic anthology A Song of War. For me having diverse characters in mythic retellings is not only appropriate but also a way to include new lovers of Greek myth.
Another aspect of Greek mythology that has been inaccurately portrayed in the past was the sexual fluidity of the ancient world. From the Victorians to Hollywood, same sex relationships have been translated into “friends” or the horrible Achilles/Patroclus relationship in the movie Troy as “cousins.” Madeline Miller’s Song of Achilles, a love story of Achilles and Patroclus told from Patroclus’s point of view, changed that for the better.
The Victorians and Hollywood have erased people of color and same sex relationships for far too long and that’s finally changing. For centuries classics departments (and many other departments) were full of white men who interpreted their work through their own lens. Emily Wilson’s translation of The Odyssey has given the epic poem new life and a new point of view. Just the fact that her translation is the first time The Odyssey has been translated in English by a woman is telling. Additionally, Wilson purposefully made her version of The Odyssey easy to read and accessible to everyone. I feel that for myths to continue to be told and retold, it is important for them to be both accurately inclusive and easy to read.
As historical fiction writers and readers, we can delight in reading stories that are familiar yet different, and in discovering voices that have not been shared before. It’s great to see so many different retellings. The myths themselves have true staying power and are able to be reinvented over and over again.
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