Anyone who knows me is aware of my fondness for Stephen Fry; even as a child, I loved to watch him on television, and was lucky enough to see him speak live around a decade ago after winning tickets to the iTunes Festival. I have read all of his previous books, and have been wanting to read his take on Greek mythology, Mythos: The Greek Myths Retold, for an awfully long time. I received the book for Christmas 2017. It seems shameful that it took me around nine months to get to it, but I wanted to save it for when I had finished my thesis, and was therefore able to devote a lot of time to it. I am pleased to report that I loved the book just as much as I had anticipated, and it felt like a real treat.
In his introduction, Fry notes: ‘No one loves and quarrels, desires and deceives as boldly and brilliantly as Greek gods and goddesses. They are like us, only more so – their actions and adventures scrawled across the heavens above.’ He goes on to explain his love of mythology, which he discovered when he was very young. In his foreword, Fry justifies his choice of Greek mythology as a focus here: ‘Much as I went on to enjoy myths and legends from other cultures and peoples, there was something about these Greek stories that lit me up inside. The energy, humour, passion, particularity and believable detail of their world held me enthralled from the very first.’ The sense of history, and of beginnings, also contributes to this decision; he writes that the stories ‘were captured and preserved by the very first poets and has come down to us in an unbroken line from almost the beginning of writing to the present day… The Greeks were the first people to make coherent narratives, a literature even, of their gods, monsters and heroes.’
Mythos is aimed at everyone, and the way in which Fry has approached the stories makes his a highly accessible tome. He writes: ‘There is absolutely nothing academic or intellectual about Greek mythology; it is addictive, entertaining, approachable and astonishingly human.’ Fry acknowledges those who are already familiar with Greek mythology in his introduction, and ‘especially welcomes’ people who are new to the stories. ‘You don’t need to know anything to read this book,’ he tells us, ‘it starts with an empty universe.’
In this manner, Fry begins Mythos by setting out the very start of Greek mythology. He writes, with his usual knowledge, warmth, and sparkling humour: ‘Mythos begins at the beginning, but it does not end at the end. Had I included heroes like Oedipus, Perseus, Theseus, Jason and Heracles and the details of the Trojan War this book would have been too heavy even for a Titan to pick up.’ (Heroes is, of course, the focus, and the title, of his second volume of Greek mythology, which was recently published.)
As Mythos progresses, Fry revises a wealth of the original stories, and provides a commentary upon them. His prose style is controlled, but always fulfilling. Fry certainly puts his own spin on things, particularly when it comes to the stylistically modernised conversations which he imagines between certain characters. When Gaia and Tartarus are discussing Gaia’s son Kronos, Tartarus, for instance, says: ‘I wish you’d tell him to leave me alone. He does nothing all day but hang around looking at me with his eyes drooping and his mouth open. I think he’s got some kind of man-crush on me. He copies my hairstyle and leans limply against trees and boulders looking miserable, melancholy and misunderstood. As if he’s waiting for someone to paint him or something. When he’s not gazing at me he’s staring down into that lava vent over there. In fact there he is now, look. Try and talk some sense into him.’
Each section in Mythos has been split up into smaller parts, and this approach makes it even more accessible for the general reader. Throughout, Fry relates the Greek myths to other cultural points, both in order to give more contextual focus, and to chart the links between Greek mythology and popular culture. In this manner, he shows just how important and pervading mythology is. He says, for instance: ‘Had Kronos the examples to go by, he would perhaps have identified with Hamlet at his most introspective, or Jaques at his most self-indulgently morbid. Konstantin from The Seagull with a suggestion of Morrissey. Yet there was something of a Macbeth in him too and more than a little Hannibal Lecter – as we shall see.’
I found Mythos utterly compelling, and it retains a feeling of freshness throughout. Fry’s approach has made the stories both scholarly and highly accessible, and the balance between the two has been handled with skill. It feels as though every reader will get something out of Mythos, and I would highly recommend it, both to those who are new to Greek mythology, and to those who are familiar with various interpretations, by the likes of Edith Hamilton and Robert Graves. I loved the commentary which Fry gives throughout, and found that it allowed me to view myths which I was already familiar with in a different way.
I shall end this review with a paragraph that Fry humbly notes in his afterword: ‘I cannot repeat too often that it has never been my aim to interpret or explain the myths, only to tell them. I have, of course, had to play about with timelines in order to attempt a coherent narrative… If anyone tells me that I have got the stories “wrong” I believe I am justified in replying that they are, after all, fictions. In tinkering with the details I am doing what people have always done with myths. In that sense I feel that I am doing my bit to keep them alive.’