Rome is far off. You are not Rome
So the problem with me and lists is that I want to make them comprehensive. Therefore this is not a catalogue of all the fiction with classical settings that exists, or even all the fiction with classical settings I've read or own. It is an attempt at listing some of my favorites of the genre without falling down the sinkhole of completism. If you don't see your favorites, please feel free to name them in comments. It may be that I've accidentally left them out. It may be that my local library does not contain enough Naomi Mitchison. It may also be the case that I'm not sure I need to re-read all of The Bull from the Sea ever again. This endeavor brought on by recent discussion of Dorothy J. Heydt's Cynthia stories.
Genres considered for inclusion are historical fiction and historical fantasy, with a flexible exception for contemporary narratives in which the classical past plays a prominent part. I have tried to stay away from mythological retellings because otherwise we'll be here all day. Honorable mention at the end goes to alternate histories or secondary worlds drawn so strongly from classical history that they feel like it.
To explain the minimal organization in the list below: novels or stories in the same series are listed all on the same line; independent novels or stories by the same author are given their own carriage return; I've put links to stories online where they exist. There are almost certainly missing entries I'll wish I'd listed in the morning. I'm sleeping about three hours a night these days.
Julia August, "Elephants and Omnibuses" (Lackington's #2, 2014)
Robin W. Bailey, "Child of Orcus" (Sword and Sorceress, 1984)
Samuel R. Delany, Phallos (2004)
Gemma Files, "Sent Down" (The Worm in Every Heart, 2004)
Gemma Files, "Villa Locusta" (The Harrow 10.1, 2007)
Alan Garner, Red Shift (1973)
Théophile Gautier, "Arria Marcella: Souvenir de Pompéi" (La Revue de Paris, 1852; translated by Richard Holmes as "The Tourist" in My Fantoms, 1976)
Robert Graves, I, Claudius (1934)
H.D., Palimpsest (1926)
Dorothy J. Heydt, "Things Come in Threes" (Sword and Sorceress, 1984) and all succeeding Cynthia stories (Sword and Sorceress III—IV, VI, IX—X, XIII—XVII, XIX—XXI, 1986–2004)
Tom Holt, Goatsong (1989) and The Walled Orchard (1990)
Rudyard Kipling, Puck of Pook's Hill (1906)
Karen K. Kobylarz, "Cleopatra's Needle" (Paradox #5, 2004)
Ursula K. Le Guin, Lavinia (2008)
Tanith Lee, The Book of the Damned (1988) and The Book of the Beast (1988)
Tanith Lee, "Into Gold" (Isaac Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine 10.3, 1986; collected in Woman As Demons, 1989)
Tanith Lee, "Sirriamnis" (Unsilent Night, 1981; reprinted in The Gorgon and Other Beastly Tales, 1985)
Shweta Narayan, "Eyes of Carven Emerald" (Clockwork Phoenix 3, 2011)
John Maddox Roberts, SPQR (1990), The Sacrilege (1992), The Temple of the Muses (1992)
Mary Renault, The King Must Die (1958)
Mary Renault, The Last of the Wine (1956)
Mary Renault, The Mask of Apollo (1966)
Mary Renault, The Praise Singer (1978)
Steven Saylor, Roman Blood (1991), The Venus Throw (1995), The House of the Vestals (1997), A Gladiator Dies Only Once (2005)
Rosemary Sutcliff, The Eagle of the Ninth (1954)
Thomas Burnett Swann, Where Is the Bird of Fire? (1970)
Harry Turtledove, "Goddess for a Day" (Chicks in Chainmail, 1995)
Jill Paton Walsh, Farewell, Great King (1972)
Evangeline Walton, She Walks in Darkness (2013)
As for the novels not appearing in our history—
Avram Davidson, The Phoenix and the Mirror (1969)
Guy Gavriel Kay, Sailing to Sarantium (1998) and Lord of Emperors (2000)
Tanith Lee, Mortal Suns (2003)
Melissa Scott, A Choice of Destinies (1986)
Megan Whalen Turner, The Thief (1996), The Queen of Attolia (2000), The King of Attolia (2006), A Conspiracy of Kings (2010)
The other problem with putting together this list is that it made me realize I want to edit an anthology of short fiction set in the classical world—I know the reprints I would want to ask for; I would want to hold a reading period for new material—and even if I knew a publisher to pitch it to, this is not a project for which I have time right now.
And I still don't really have any stories where the Carthaginians come off positively. Cato the Censor and the Aeneid cast a long shadow. Does anyone know any?
Genres considered for inclusion are historical fiction and historical fantasy, with a flexible exception for contemporary narratives in which the classical past plays a prominent part. I have tried to stay away from mythological retellings because otherwise we'll be here all day. Honorable mention at the end goes to alternate histories or secondary worlds drawn so strongly from classical history that they feel like it.
To explain the minimal organization in the list below: novels or stories in the same series are listed all on the same line; independent novels or stories by the same author are given their own carriage return; I've put links to stories online where they exist. There are almost certainly missing entries I'll wish I'd listed in the morning. I'm sleeping about three hours a night these days.
Julia August, "Elephants and Omnibuses" (Lackington's #2, 2014)
Robin W. Bailey, "Child of Orcus" (Sword and Sorceress, 1984)
Samuel R. Delany, Phallos (2004)
Gemma Files, "Sent Down" (The Worm in Every Heart, 2004)
Gemma Files, "Villa Locusta" (The Harrow 10.1, 2007)
Alan Garner, Red Shift (1973)
Théophile Gautier, "Arria Marcella: Souvenir de Pompéi" (La Revue de Paris, 1852; translated by Richard Holmes as "The Tourist" in My Fantoms, 1976)
Robert Graves, I, Claudius (1934)
H.D., Palimpsest (1926)
Dorothy J. Heydt, "Things Come in Threes" (Sword and Sorceress, 1984) and all succeeding Cynthia stories (Sword and Sorceress III—IV, VI, IX—X, XIII—XVII, XIX—XXI, 1986–2004)
Tom Holt, Goatsong (1989) and The Walled Orchard (1990)
Rudyard Kipling, Puck of Pook's Hill (1906)
Karen K. Kobylarz, "Cleopatra's Needle" (Paradox #5, 2004)
Ursula K. Le Guin, Lavinia (2008)
Tanith Lee, The Book of the Damned (1988) and The Book of the Beast (1988)
Tanith Lee, "Into Gold" (Isaac Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine 10.3, 1986; collected in Woman As Demons, 1989)
Tanith Lee, "Sirriamnis" (Unsilent Night, 1981; reprinted in The Gorgon and Other Beastly Tales, 1985)
Shweta Narayan, "Eyes of Carven Emerald" (Clockwork Phoenix 3, 2011)
John Maddox Roberts, SPQR (1990), The Sacrilege (1992), The Temple of the Muses (1992)
Mary Renault, The King Must Die (1958)
Mary Renault, The Last of the Wine (1956)
Mary Renault, The Mask of Apollo (1966)
Mary Renault, The Praise Singer (1978)
Steven Saylor, Roman Blood (1991), The Venus Throw (1995), The House of the Vestals (1997), A Gladiator Dies Only Once (2005)
Rosemary Sutcliff, The Eagle of the Ninth (1954)
Thomas Burnett Swann, Where Is the Bird of Fire? (1970)
Harry Turtledove, "Goddess for a Day" (Chicks in Chainmail, 1995)
Jill Paton Walsh, Farewell, Great King (1972)
Evangeline Walton, She Walks in Darkness (2013)
As for the novels not appearing in our history—
Avram Davidson, The Phoenix and the Mirror (1969)
Guy Gavriel Kay, Sailing to Sarantium (1998) and Lord of Emperors (2000)
Tanith Lee, Mortal Suns (2003)
Melissa Scott, A Choice of Destinies (1986)
Megan Whalen Turner, The Thief (1996), The Queen of Attolia (2000), The King of Attolia (2006), A Conspiracy of Kings (2010)
The other problem with putting together this list is that it made me realize I want to edit an anthology of short fiction set in the classical world—I know the reprints I would want to ask for; I would want to hold a reading period for new material—and even if I knew a publisher to pitch it to, this is not a project for which I have time right now.
And I still don't really have any stories where the Carthaginians come off positively. Cato the Censor and the Aeneid cast a long shadow. Does anyone know any?

no subject
no subject
Thank you! That sounds fascinating; I'll look for it.
She deals with Carthage by transposing it to Egypt, which actually makes a lot of sense in context, but the essential answer to your question is Carthago delenda est.
Yeah. Even Mary Gentle's fifteenth-century Carthaginians are Visigothic settlers who worship a heretical form of Christ. I thought this was the coolest thing on the planet when I read Ash: A Secret History (2000) for the first time in college; Carthage Ascendant was my favorite of the four American-edition books. Probably it still is, and as an alt-historical conceit, Visgothic Carthage is still really cool. But I have slightly more reservations about it these days.
no subject
The books are still really cool, though.
no subject
Oh, yeah. I love Florian. And I love Ash, which is very rare for me: I am almost never as interested in protagonists as I am in supporting characters. And the depth of the worldbuilding, and the way the initially artificial and potentially superfluous frame-story wraps around to become the other end of the narrative's time, and much of Gentle's language, even if it's a much less ornately written book than her previous novels. I love the entire religion of the Green Christ and the Mithraic echoes, which were there at exactly the right time in my life for me to feel delighted and deeply satisfied that someone else thought that mystery religions were too good to be lost to history as we know it. I do not regret loving that story. I just regret that she wrote the Carthaginians in some of the ways she did, because I can see they were such a irresistible alt-historical id-hook, but there are problems.
no subject
no subject
Yes! It starts as historical fiction, becomes historical fantasy, becomes alternate history, ends as hard science fiction. I really can't think of another novel that shifts through genres to that extent without becoming a radically different story, which Ash really doesn't: it's still comes down to a bunch of fifteenth-century mercenaries at the end, not spaceflight. I wish I liked anything she had written since half as well. At least I will always have Rats and Gargoyles and her short fiction to return to.
The books are great; the Carthaginians are really problematic; neither of those things cancels out the other.
Yep.
no subject
This is not set in classical times at all, but have you read Kate Elliott's Cold Magic? (Followed by Cold Fire and Cold Steel, and now a completed trilogy as such.) It's set in an alternate... uh... early 19th century, more or less, in that that's the general tech level and women wear bulky dresses and there's a Napoleon analogue, but saying that implies a much closer analogy than the book actually has. The alternate history goes way back to Hannibal winning and Carthage staying a viable empire for much, much longer; there's an ice age still ongoing; the Mali Empire is a strong and privileged cultural force in Europe, although the empire itself fell to plague; etc, etc. Our heroine is part of an old Carthaginian trading house in alt-Britain. (Also there are intelligent dinosaur lawyers. Yes. The author designed the world with her adult kids, as I understand it, though she didn't co-write it with anyone, and there's a certain kitchen sink approach.) It doesn't really deal with Carthage qua Carthage, but still fascinating.
no subject
No! I have heard of the series, but only so as to recognize the title; I did not know, for example, that there were intelligent dinosaur lawyers. How does that work with the rest of the alternate history?
Our heroine is part of an old Carthaginian trading house in alt-Britain.
Cool. What's the religion like?
no subject
Keep in mind that it's been a while since I read them and I haven't read the third (though I intend to): as I recall, it's not explained in great detail, although possibly I've just forgotten. It may be explained more in the third book? They're called trolls, but they're sentient troodon descendents (with feathers). (There's also magic and a world of spirits, and some creatures and people who come from there; it's just that the trolls are not among those people.)
What's the religion like?
Polytheistic. There's no Christianity analogue that I recall; if there is one it's not dominant, at any rate. Presumably there's Judaism, but I don't remember if there are any Jewish characters onscreen. (In the second book a lot of the action shifts over to the Caribbean, where the Taino are a dominant culture in the areas the action takes place.) Our heroine is religious in the sense that it's culturally important to her and she prays to Blessed Tanit fairly often. My memory is that, while she does believe, religion is a background she takes for granted rather than a primary focus of her attention. In terms of ritual, I don't remember in enough detail to be sure of answering. The Carthaginian/Phoenician ethnic group she's part of is definitely not the dominant cultural force, but is a relatively numerous minority. (IIRC, the dominant ethnic groups in Britain are Celtic and Mali.)
no subject
no subject
[thinking out loud] I don't know whether I'd even say it's worth reading the Aeneid--there's a lot about the ending that's interesting for scholars of Roman history, but the best book of the whole poem is Book 2, when Aeneas tells Dido the story of the fall of Troy, and you can get a pretty good digest of the problem of the ending by reading the chapter on the book in David Denby's book on the Columbia great books course. Virgil subjugating his art to destiny, and Aeneas along with it, in the latter half of the poem is much less interesting than the Homeric epics, imo. I'm also not wild about the Fitzgerald translation; I would definitely recommend Fagles.
no subject
I've been told by more than one person that there's no really good English translation of the Aeneid (although that makes me wonder now, is there a good one in French? French would be easy enough for me to pick up again). Unfortunately, first-year Latin doesn't get me very far and I'm too stupid now to attempt to learn more of it.
no subject
I have no idea about translations of the Aeneid in French, but I think you should ask! That's a really clever idea. (And then let me know.)
no subject
I think it is always worth reading the Aeneid, if nothing else because I always prefer reading a source myself to relying on someone else's summary of it, but I have the advantage of Latin, which is necessary in my case because I don't like any of the available translations. I'm most familiar with Fitzgerald because we were given him in high school to supplement the books we didn't read in translation, but I prefer his Iliad and his Odyssey. There's a relatively recent plain-spoken Aeneid by Sarah Ruden which is much more faithful than any of the usual suspects, but it needs to be combined with a more poetic translation: it strips out a lot of the weirdness of the words. I know you did not love Lavinia, but I was oddly sorry Le Guin never attempted at least a partial translation of the Aeneid as well as a retelling. She seemed to be a tonal match for it, which almost no one is.
no subject
Which is why I agree with you about the lack of good English translations, with the exception of Fagles because I haven't read that one yet. (I used to get into arguments with people in my department about Fitzgerald because they liked him for being literal and I thought it was a bad choice as a translation, which is illustrative.) I think Fagles is better at sounding literary and comprehensible as far as the Homeric epics go, though I only read the Iliad in the original. What I should really probably do is read the Fagles version with LeGuin's interpretation in mind, because I agree with you that she clearly gets Vergil really well.
no subject
Nice! What were the other empires?
(I used to get into arguments with people in my department about Fitzgerald because they liked him for being literal and I thought it was a bad choice as a translation, which is illustrative.)
. . . Fitzgerald is not literal. You can't use him as any kind of guide to the original grammar. You can't even sometimes use him as a guide to the original image; he elaborates. His lines always run over.
I think Fagles is better at sounding literary and comprehensible as far as the Homeric epics go, though I only read the Iliad in the original.
Usually I tell people to read Lattimore and Fitzgerald together: Lattimore is faithful and archaic, Fitzgerald is vivid and imagistic; if you read them by turns, you can approximate the dimensions of Homeric Greek. I've bounced off every one of Fagles' translations that I've tried, which I am faintly sorry about, but neither his Iliad nor his Odyssey nor his Aeneid works for me. It may be that I don't like his English, which just puts the kibosh on everything.
What I should really probably do is read the Fagles version with LeGuin's interpretation in mind, because I agree with you that she clearly gets Vergil really well.
I like that plan. Let me know how it works out!
no subject
It is on my used-book-hunt list now.