Mr. Robert Graves, who is best known for novels ranging from realistic pseudo-history (I, Claudius) to wild and unearthly fantasies (Hercules, My Shipmate), has chosen to write his latest work of fiction under the guise of an ostensibly scholarly work of reference. His Greek Myths (Braziller, $4.75) is either a little more or much less than worthless: its slight utility is offset by the danger that uninformed readers may take Mr. Graves seriously.
The book consists of a series of articles, somewhat capriciously arranged, on the principal figures of Greek religion and myth. The first half of each article gives a reasonably accurate, though skeletally dry, summary of ancient traditions, and will not greatly mislead a wary reader who keeps his eye on the footnotes and so distinguishes what was said by classical writers from what was reported or imagined by such late scribblers as Tzetzes, careless and pretentious Byzantine of the twelfth century. If you really want the “retelling of the stories” in the “harmonious narrative” promised by the publisher’s blurb, you will have to seek it in such works as Gustav Schwab’s Gods and Heroes, but if you want merely the kind of information that is given in the standard alphabetical dictionaries of mythology (Who was Clytaemnestra’s mother? Who rescued Andromeda?), you can find it, though less conveniently, in this part of Mr. Graves’ book. You need observe only one fundamental caution: disregard all of the “translations” of Greek proper names. If you know Greek, the many blunders will annoy you; if you do not, you will put yourself at the mercy of a philological quack.




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