The Greek myths are always with us

Once upon a time there was a collection of stories that everybody loved. They involved brave heroes such as Perseus and Theseus defeating fearful monsters like Medusa and the Minotaur. Sometimes they used ingenious gadgets to achieve their goals, a bit like James Bond with his exploding pen. Sometimes they were helped by women who took a fancy to them.

Some, like Icarus, failed. Others succeeded but still came to a sticky end – like Oedipus, who solved the riddle of the Sphinx but also killed his dad and married his mum. The point is that these stories were so old they came from a time before writing. There was no set text, so they could be adopted and adapted and take many forms.

This was handy when Christianity came along, whose followers were keen to reinterpret the myths to make them sort of Christian. Early writers zoomed in on details of particular stories that allowed them to suggest that the heroes were really allegorical representations of Jesus Christ. The mighty Heracles descending into Hell and living to tell? Jesus, of course. The crooner Orpheus, who also went to Hell and back? Same deal. Odysseus strapped to his mast, listening to the song of the Sirens? A bit like Jesus on the Cross.

Some Greek heroes used ingenious gadgets to achieve their ends, a bit like James Bond with his exploding pen

When you’re a hammer, everything looks like a nail. This is a major theme of Richard Buxton’s bountiful, beautifully illustrated guide to eight Greek myths: Medea, Oedipus, Orpheus, Heracles, Prometheus, the Judgment of Paris, Icarus and the Amazons. Time and again, people have picked up these myths and viewed or skewed them according to their own particular interests.