Sing, muse, of the confusion of Croseus, and of the anguish of Penthesilea! A Thousand Ships collects stories about the women of the Illiad — mostly of Troy, but of Achaea, too, across the wine-dark sea — and framed by one of the Muses being begged by a poet to help him pen his next epic. Irritated at the constant stories about slaughtering men and burning cities, the Muse begins shaping the poet’s story another way — a way that looks at those forgotten by the war their lives destroyed. Although some of these stories could be read as historical fiction, with the gods being mentioned but not actively present as characters, later on the Olympians do become explicit characters, so this is a title solidly in the realm of mythological/fantasy fiction. Generally speaking, the more original stories are historical, while the ones drawn directly from the myth texts like Ovid’s Heroides, are more fantastical. The Judgement of Paris is one story, for instance, which features an ensemble cast of Olympians, including grey-eyed Athena squabbling over the golden apple like she’d forgotten she’s the goddess of wisdom, while the twins elbowing each other and laughing at the undignified display. Even when directly retelling a story from Ovid or so, Haynes also adds elements to make the retelling her own: in the story about the death of Polydorus, for instance, we learn about it when Odysseus takes Queen Hecuba (now his slave) to Thrace, where the late Priam had dispatched the boy for his safety. The stories are largely human-focused, though there are a couple of god-specific ones like a story about Eris and her malicious decision to spoil the wedding with her apple of discord. Given the context of the story, sorrow and pain beat a steady tattoo, but Haynes also adds in splashes of humor, mostly in dialogue. I’d seen this author pop up at Bewitching Books, Ravenous Reads recently and am glad I tried her out, as there were a lot of stories in this I’d never encountered. Whenever I draw up my third Classics Club list, that’s something I need to remedy!

“I blame you. Paris is a . . .’ She paused. ‘Was an immoral fool. But you were a married woman. You should have refused him.’
‘Paris was a married man,’ Helen said. ‘Why does everyone always forget that?’
‘He was married to a nymph,’ Hecabe replied.

That’s what I can give you, Paris. I can give you wisdom, strategy, tactics. I can give you the power to defend what is yours from any man who would take it from you. What could matter more? Give the apple to me, and I will be your defender, your adviser, your warrior.’
‘Is that your owl?’ he asked, as the tawny bird flapped across the clearing and settled on a rotten tree trunk to his right.
‘You cannot have my owl!’ she said, and thought for a moment. ‘I will get you another owl, if you want one.’

She isn’t a footnote, she’s a person. And she – all the Trojan women – should be memorialized as much as any other person. Their Greek counterparts too. War is not a sport, to be decided in a quick bout on a strip of contested land. It is a web which stretches out to the furthest parts of the world, drawing everyone into itself.

Related:
The Penelopiad, Margaret Atwood