This piece of historical fiction drew me in in the first paragraph. After finishing it, I wanted to read it over immediately. It has moments of mysticism interspersed with true friendships based on respect and mutual calling.

As a self professed classics nerd, I couldn't wait to get my hands on Black Ships when I read about it in Entertainment Weekly.

Black Ships is Jo Graham's version of the events of the Aeneid-Aeneas' escape, travels, and subsequent founding of a new city. Our protagonist is Gull, a lowborn acolyte who ascends her mistress' place as Pythia, an oracle of the Lady of the Dead. Gull meets Aeneas and realizes that fate has bound him for a great destiny. She travels with the Trojans, er, Wilusans (Trojans in Hittite) in search of a new home. Their travels take them all over the Mediterranean-from an island of the dead to Byblos to Egypt (where they stay awhile) to the caves of Mt. Vesuvius-and finally into the Underworld itself.

This piece of historical fantasy was an enjoyable read, although a little slow at times. It was difficult for me to read at first because I have such set thoughts on Aeneas' character and how it "should" be but I got over it fairly quickly. I just enjoyed it for what it was-a historical fantasy/romance. I especially enjoyed the disillusioned antics of Egyptian princess Dido, *ahem* I mean, Basetamon.

As the bedraggled group travels from place to place, they are pursued by Neoptolemus (his entrance into a fallen Troy and subsequent murder of King Priam is one of the most haunting scenes of the Aeneid). Unfortunately, Neoptolemus is never more than a vague threat in the distance (literally, they see his sails a couple times), and I would have liked a little more conflict there. The scenery and historical details are thorough, and Graham's writing style is exquisite- it's beautifully simple and yet still so compelling and vivid.

I am looking forward to the Hand of Isis, which is another historical fantasy set during the reign of Cleopatra, the last Ptolemy! It features Charmian, Cleopatra's handmaiden (Get it? Hand of Isis? ) and half sister. I am really curious as to how Graham will portray Cleopatra (I would assume she features prominently in the book, maybe not).

Will Cleopatra be portrayed as a dark, Egyptian sorceress (thanks to Octavian's propaganda) or will she be as she was- a daughter of Ptolemy XII, of Macedonian (not Egyptian!) descent, the first Ptolemy who bothered learning Egyptian mores, language, and who was believed to be the incarnation of Isis.

The daughter of a slave taken from fallen Troy, Gull is an oracle, the voice for the Lady of the Dead. When nine black ships appear, captained by Aeneas, the last Trojan prince, Gull joins her mother's people on their flight from Greek enemies and their attempt to find a new land to call home. Black Ships follows the journey of the Aeneid, but revised: with careful historical revisions, a cast of incredibly real characters, and skillfully interwoven religion, it is the personal story about the founding of an empire. There are a few little quibbles--who am I kidding? This novel is brilliantly conceived and executed, bringing history to life with the utmost care and skill. Black Ships is a stunning debut novel, and it deserves an unqualified recommendation.

Not unlike Mary Renault's novels or Marion Zimmer Bradley's The Mists of Avalon, Graham's Black Ships takes a part historical, part mythological, part religious story--here, Virgil's Aeneid--and brings it to life via realistic characters, historical integration, and religious overtones. Gull, the protagonist and narrator, becomes close adviser to Aeneas and fast friends with one of the ships's captains, and these relationships and characters--as well as the dozens of others that populate the book--feel real, pulling the story to a local level where every character has meaning. Gull joins Aeneas's fleeing fleet of ships as they journey across the Mediterranean sea, looking for safety and for a place to call home, and here the journey in the Aeneid is revised--ahistorical Dido, for example, is replaced by an Egyptian princess. These changes create a story which is all the more meaningful and impressive for its realistic rendering. Gull is also an oracle for the Lady of the Dead, bringing faith and gods to the story--and Graham handles both with aplomb, creating a divinity with real impact but realistic presence and a religion that feels authentic. Local and universal, personal and divine, Graham reaches to both ends of the spectrum. The book is historical fiction, but with careful research, skillful integration, and the author's palpable love for her story and setting, Black Ships feels wholly real.

The book isn't perfect, but the imperfections are no detraction. The climax and conclusion moves at a faster pace than the rest of the book, stripping away desirable detail. Graham's writing style is more than competent but neither is it exceptional, which renders it almost invisible--I remember characters, plot, scenes, but little about the writing style. A longer author's note or more exposition may help explain the historical setting--which was never confusing but made me wish I knew more about this era. While there are such quibbles and faults, they mean next to nothing. It may not be perfect, but the imperfections don't distract. Black Ships is a triumph--intelligently conceived, brilliantly executed, and a true delight to read. Nothing should deter the interested reader from picking up this book. Captivating and impressive, it is a realistic, human story set on a history-altering stage. It is an astounding debut novel, and I look forward to more from Graham. All told, Black Ships is amazing, and I recommend it to all readers. Renault or Bradley fans will find a literary cousin in Graham. Greco-Roman enthusiasts should love it, and even if you're unfamiliar with or uninterested in this time period you may find that at Graham's hands it comes alive.

It doesn't matter if you pick up the book thinking it's about Troy, NY--read the book. The first chapter pulls you into a long-ago world where gods had a real, day-by-day impact on the affairs of men and a young girl grows from a victim of history to a maker of history. The level of suspense carried through the book is amazing and the writing is superb. All this, and it fits into the narrative of Virgil's Aeneid extremely well. (OK, one shift of location from Carthage to Egypt, but it makes sense historically.) Gull is an intelligent, sympathetic voice and a great viewpoint for the action of the book. You can make up your own mind as to whether the voices and visions are real or imagined.

There's nothing I love so much as sinking into a big fat book that combines the sweep of history with a dash of magic. This book is an adaptation of the Aeneid, from the point of view of the Sybil who, in the poem, guides Aeneas through the underworld.

She's a lot more fleshed out here. Her name is Gull, later known as Linnea and as Pythia, and jumps off the page from the very beginning of chapter one with a self-introduction that reminded me a bit of Phedre's at the beginning of Kushiel's Dart. The wording and the voice are different, but it's the same sort of introduction: This is me. This is who I am. Take me or leave me--and if you take me, I've got a damn good story to tell you.

Gull is the daughter of a Trojan slave. When she is crippled in an accident, her mother realizes she'll be seen as a useless mouth to King Nestor. She takes the girl to be apprenticed to Pythia, an oracle and priestess of Persephone, the Lady of the Dead. In time Gull succeeds to the role of Pythia herself, and it seems that she will spend the rest of her life prophesying from her remote cave. Fate, however, has other plans.

Aeneas and his ragged band of refugees from Troy arrive to raid Nestor's palace, and Gull's life is forever changed.

(Oh, I should explain that Graham posits two separate Trojan Wars in this tale. Gull's mother was abducted in the first; Aeneas fled the city in the second.)

The novel follows Aeneas, Gull, and Aeneas's courageous and sexy captain, Xandros, as they search for a place to call home.

To me, one of the major themes of Black Ships is being human in a world that calls for larger-than-life gods and heroes. You see it with Gull, who operates within a strict set of rules as a priestess, and then throughout the story breaks most of them when the will of the Goddess or the needs of her people demand flexibility. You see it with Neas, whose father is constantly exhorting him to act in a more regal fashion. One of my favorite bits is when Gull is examining the cave near Vesuvius that she will use for the ritual of descent into the underworld, musing about how much work it will take to prepare it--and yet, though she works hard to ready the cave, when the ritual occurs it is governed by forces beyond her human control. I liked the contrast between the human and divine here.

The other major theme is love, and how these three flawed and scarred people find it with each other. I love that you can't clearly say "this character is gay, that one is straight." What it really comes down to is that these three people have a bond that transcends all categories. They're just...well, when reading this book I just can't imagine any of them without the other two.

Beautiful book, and I loved every minute of it. I just wish it had been longer. ;)

(And, y'know, I really ought to go read the Aeneid. I never did read the whole thing, though I was supposed to for class once, and Jo has made me more intrigued by it.)

I really wanted to love Black Ships because I have advanced degrees in Philosophy with specializations in Ancient Greek Philosophy. I was one of the only undergraduates in my class to really enjoy reading Homer's Odyssey and Iliad and later Virgil's Aeneid. I found the Trojan War fascinating both historically in terms of its epic battles and strong characters, and philosophically in how it has been utilized to create certain thoughts and images in our collective consciousness (like Nietzsche's controversial discussions of the overman archetype in terms of the heroes Agamemnon and Achilles).

Black Ships author Jo Graham has also been interested in this period since high school. She decided to retell the story from the standpoint of a woman, Gull, daughter of a slave and ultimately Pythia, oracle of the Mistress of Death. Gull is born in Greece to a Trojan slave working the flax fields. She has an accident early on that cripples her foot, thus making her incapable of working the fields. To save Gull, her mother drops her to the Oracle of Sybil (Death), where Pythia promises to take care of the young, lame girl.

Soon Gull shows a connection to the spirit and begins receiving messages through dreams and thoughts, and Pythia begins grooming Gull to replace her as the Oracle. One day Gull/Pythia has a dream of black sailed ships coming to Greece, full of Trojans (Wilusans) coming to rescue their kin and reclaim what they lost. Sure enough, the ships come with Aeneas at the helm.

Gull/Pythia leaves with them to begin an adventure that takes them through Egypt (Virgil's use of Carthage fell flat as Carthage did not yet exist), the Island of the Dead, and other well-known islands such as Scylla and Byblos. They meet new people, fall in and out of love, build temples for the Oracle, and even take the storied ferryboat to visit the land of Death to meet the Lady herself.

While Black Ships is classified as fantasy, it's really more historical romance. At times it is a veritable soap opera of relationships, as we try to follow who loves whom, who fathered whose children, what couples were separated in the war and reunited, and who Gull/Pythia will sleep with next (oracles cannot marry, but can have sex and bear children).

I highly recommend this book to romance fans who also enjoy a good dose of well-researched historical narrative in their reading. However, if you are looking for a fast moving, historical fantasy novel, this book will not fill the bill.

How often do we really come across the kind of novel that demands marathon reading sessions, that urge us to set aside our regular daily routine? Yet such books as these are why we read fiction, why we search through pleasant, entertaining reads for just such gems. I was delighted to find Black Ships. I could feel the heft of solid research backing a compelling plot based on The Aeneid as told through the eyes of a woman who was Aeneas' sybil. The characters are well developed and intriguing. This felt like the Bronze Age as it may have seemed to those who lived in it, and not like some imaginary costume drama. I thoroughly enjoy it and look forward to future books from this author.

One of the difficulties I had with ancient history in high school was that I couldn't hold each of the cultures and civilizations we studied in context with one another; how they interacted and fit together in the causal stream of then until now. As a consequence, history was my least favorite subject and I didn't learn as much as I should have. Jo Graham, on the other hand, was reading Virgil--IN LATIN--when she was in high school, and she has been able to convert that youthful enthusiasm into an enjoyable novel of The Aeneid.

Historians probably wince at the historical novel, but I find these vehicles to be a valuable resource if the author doesn't play too loosely with the facts or if the author is clear about what has been amended. Jo Graham seems to have remained true to the historical record, and she states plainly those changes she made for continuity or dramatic purposes. So, for the non-historian, "Black Ships" will help tie together the aftermath of the Trojan War with the Greece, Egypt, and proto Rome of the time.

The story follows a young girl into womanhood, constrained by the traditions and belief systems of the time, as her life proceeds through the convulsions of the Mediterranean world of about 1200 BCE. "Black Ships" is essentially a love story set against this tableau, but Graham has been able to steer her novel away from the flowery historical romance by keeping her characters well grounded in the action of the time. Her love story never takes precedent over events, and so the book reads as something a bit more substantial. It has an authentic feel similar to Steven Pressfield's novels, or perhaps even Jean Auel's first two novels. What it lacks is a certain grittiness that must have been present in an era when 40 years made someone an old person. Beyond this, the narrative flows smoothly and satisfyingly, building from page to page, leaving the reader wanting to learn more of that history--and perhaps that is the best endorsement of all.

Bizarrely, "Black Ships" is categorized as fantasy and sits on bookstore shelves in the science-fiction section. It is neither fantasy nor science-fiction.

Few things are more fun than a book that gives you a better read than you expected. Black Ships has a promising but not particularly unique premise: It's an epic, the Aeneid, told from the viewpoint of an important character other than the hero. I expected an enjoyable read but little more. I soon realized, though, that Black Ships is not only entertaining but thoroughly engrossing.

The story is told by Gull, or as she is known variously throughout the book, Linnea, Pythia (the voice of the Lady of the Dead), and Sybil. When little more than a teen, she become a trusted adviser to Neas, or Aeneas as he is more formally known, and guides him and his band of refugees from Troy around the Mediterranean to the eventual founding of Rome. As an oracle, she provides words of wisdom when necessary--sometimes her own, sometimes those of the goddess she serves.

Along the way, Gull grows into a woman, and it is her personal narrative that separates the story from a standard sword-and-sorcery fantasy. She has doubts, not of her religion, but in herself and her ability to provide the guidance her people seek. She often doubts her own motivations, too, questioning whether she is choosing the right thing for the wrong reason or vice versa, a moral quandary that she's not always able to answer, even with the help of the gods.

Watching her fall in love, struggle with the need to sacrifice her own desires for the good of the people, and deal with tragic losses both personal and communal make the book worth reading.

On top of it all is a well-paced plot full of battles where most of the blood is spilled off-stage, palace intrigues, violent storms at sea, and an enemy who shows up at the worst possible times hell-bent on destroying the Trojans. The novel is full of fascinating period detail and history--some real and some well-imagined. Jo Graham has a nice touch with the frequent passages of mysticism, which are usually pertinent to the story and carry just the right amount of solemnity without becoming portentous.

Black Ships is something you don't find often--a page-turner with refinement.

A well constructed opening to this novel of Trojan refugees draws the reader in quickly and never disappoints. This is a wonderfully crafted story which takes place at the end of the age of heroes and the beginning of the story of Rome. Almost hidden behind marvelous storytelling is an excellent conflation of the mythic and heroic tales of the ancient Greek world, and the historic and archeological records related to ancient Greece, the Middle East, ancient Egypt, and pre-Roman Italy.

This is one of those novels whose three dimensional characters grow on the reader to the point that finishing the book is like watching old friends disappearing around the bend. Though Black Ships tells of the many adventures these refugees encounter in their wanderings, real excitement comes from watching as the main characters struggle to find their path - sometimes relying on faith in the whispers of gods; sometimes by trusting their own judgement.

Jo Graham tells the story through a significant female character, and the feminine experience is a major theme of the book. However, she has avoided one of my frequent complaints about novels that strive to give a 'new' point of view. She has done a fine job of "fleshing out" both male and female characters, and giving some of the male characters 'real' lives that are not always told only as they impact the main character/narrator/

This is a great read for anyone who enjoys a well crafted adventure story, but, for those with an interest in the history and mythology of the ancient Mediteranean, this is a real treasure.

Black Ships is a portrait of late Bronze Age heroism, the Aeneid retold at the most intimate level, a chronicle of epic events as witnessed by soldiers, seers and kings. Aeneas steps from the page a living man; the oracle Gull, Graham's protagonist, narrates with a woman's voice and a sibyl's wisdom. The book's language is deceptively simple, evoking a depth of descriptive resonance and emotion that owes a great deal to the author's knowledge of history, recorded legend, and of love.

Ultimately, that is what Black Ships celebrates, for me - love, and the faith and strength required to choose it in the face of desperation, loss, and hatred. Love as a force in the universe. Graham's characters are men and women who accept life's pain and the sacrifices it demands, without abandoning hope and compassion. This is also the story of the shades of gray that lie between, the complexity of our choices, of lives twisted by darkness and the bitter toll that takes on us all.

Gull is born a slave in the Greek city of Pylos, to a daughter of fallen Wilusa, the ancient city we know as Troy. She is given to the Lady of the Dead as an avatar, a visionary and a priestess - she dreams the past, the future, and of the black ships that are her destiny. Aeneas leads the remnants of Troy's great fleet on a voyage to rescue their women and children from enslavement in Pylos, and Gull joins them in their search for sanctuary, a place of peace and renewed hope. As Pythia, the sibyl who stands apart, she cannot marry, but she does love - Aeneas himself, and Xandros, his steadfast captain. She bears children, shares her life with a good man while guiding a reluctant king.

Gull's story is mythic, and very human; as Aeneas' oracle, she leads a king and her lost people into their future - they claim a new world, and sow the seeds of the Roman Empire. As a woman, she loves and grieves, fierce and compassionate and strong. At the heart of her journey is the gradual fusion of her faith and her humanity, and that is the magic of this book, the rich spell Graham weaves from a woman's voice and the tenacity of the human spirit.

Egypt, drowned cities, earthquakes, a Pharaoh's mad daughter, a City of Pirates and the haunted caves of Mount Vesuvius - this book is adventure and passion and tragedy spun from words that craft a rich and complex world, dangerous and vibrant and alive. You will lose yourself in its pages, taste the dust of Memphis, feel the winds that sing to the Isle of the Dead, breathe the green scent of Latium beneath an ancient summer sun. Aeneas, Gull, and Xandros will live in your heart long after you read the final page.

Gull and her People have haunted me since I read the book's first paragraph. Beneath the surface of recorded history's beginnings, Graham has painted a numinous world of half-remembered lives, built on a mythology of life and death that is both terrible and joyous.

"Twice we cross the River," I said. "When we die, we cross this river, which is the Styx. And when we are born, we cross the other river, which is Lethe."

"Memory," Neas said.

"For memory is sweet and full of delight, and if we do not leave it we cannot live, " I said.

"Memory is bitter," Xandros said. "And if we carried it we would be mad."

"That too."

It's a story of the Aeneid, narrated by a priestess of the Lady of the Dead. It's a woman's story, and a mystical journey. The quiet narrative paints ink sketches that catch you and come to you again in dreams, months later. Each character, even most briefly glimpsed, is a full and vivid creature. And did I mention it's all historically accurate Age of Bronze Greece?

You can't nail this book down as just historical, fantasy, roadtrip (seatrip?), literary. It's all of these. And it'll haunt you, but it's a beneficial spirit.

Following a chariot accident that left her crippled, Gull is sent to the temple of the Lady of the Dead. However, almost immediately upon entering this holy place, Gull displays an ability to foretell the future starting with a vision of BLACK SHIPS leaving behind a burning city. The newest Oracle realizes that she has seen the Trojan Prince-warrior Aeneas lead his people by sea from the destruction of their city Wilusa (Troy).

The lame Gull leaves the sanctuary of the temple of the Lady of the Dead to find Aeneas and tell him what she has seen. She explains her vision to him and he believes her. Feeling responsible to his people yet before seeing her helpless and hopeless, he teams up with the Oracle with renewed vigor seeking the few who survived the ordeal of the burning of Wilusa. They hope to find others who escaped and dream of establishing a new home city. Combining Virgil's epic poem The Aeneid with accepted historical facts, Jo Graham provides an exciting epic tale of what happened to the surviving Trojans. The story line is fast-paced and filled with action starting with the vision and never slowing down as the Oracle and the warrior seek their people and a home for those who still live.

Harriet Klausner

Some stories stick with you: the themes and ideas behind them are so compelling that they change the way you look at your own world, the characters are so rich and real that they linger in your head after you close the book - you can imagine their lives going on without you. Black Ships is one of those books.

Black Ships is a retelling of the Aeneid, the story of Aeneas, the last prince of Troy, and his search to find a home for the survivors of the Trojan war (it's also the origin story of the Roman empire). Like the Iliad and the Odyssey, the Aeneid is very much a story of men doing manly things - having adventures, fighting battles, and encountering bewitching women who attempt to lure them away from their destiny.

Graham's novel takes those events and gives them a different spin. The narrator of Black Ships is a woman, an oracle and a priestess of the Lady of the Dead (Persephone, in her role as Hades' wife) and the story is as much about the relationships and the domestic details as it is about the epic events described the Aeneid. Gull's role as priestess gives her a unique and liminal position - she acts as Aeneas' close adviser and thus gets to participate in events that the other women are excluded from, but as a woman, she also gives us a perspective on the ordinary women's lives and concerns.

This shift in perspective is indicative of Graham's more personal and historical approach to the mythical source material. The characters are more fully fleshed out, their emotional lives more richly detailed than in the original. Graham has also re-interpreted some of the events to bring them more closely in accordance with the historical record while maintaining their thematic and narrative significance.

Graham's approach creates a sense of immediacy and engagement with the characters while never ignoring the larger, epic aspects of the story. She also deals respectfully with the spiritual component which is so critical to the Greek and Roman myths; the passages in which the characters deal with the gods are some of the most effective and awe-inspiring in the book. There are also tantalizing hints of a larger story in which the characters are connected across time and space, that they have been together in previous lives and will be together again.

I was fortunate enough to get, through a mutual friend, an advance copy of Jo Graham's Black Ships. It hit the bookstores last week, and it's a ripping good read.

The book tells the story of Gull, daughter of a slave taken from Troy by victorious Achaeans and raised as an oracle of the Lady of the Dead. A vision allows Gull to recognize Prince Aeneas when he comes to rescue Trojan slaves from their captivity, and she joins them and guides their journey around the Mediterranean to their new homeland, the future site of Rome.

The novel is set in the waning days of the Age of Bronze, as the civilizations of the region reel, nations collapsing or being overwhelmed by the onslaught of displaced raiders. It's a detailed, moving retelling of Virgil's Aeneid, chock-full of tasty little historical tidbits that root it firmly in a period of history that is not known in detail.

The books I truly love are wildly different from one another; everything from ancient epics to contemporary romance novels, stories of wars or journeys or love or everything in between. Cathy Cash Spellman's Paint the Wind is one of my beloveds, the American west, a young woman named Fancy who loves more than once, and becomes something different than she was. Compare that to something like the Odyssey - old Greek men cavorting about the Mediterranean. So why do I cry when Fancy's great love dies of a gunshot wound to the thigh, and when Odysseus's faithful dog Argos lays down his head and shuts his eyes for the last time? What is it about stories that move us to tears, how do they do it? How does one create such compelling new worlds, or old ones, worlds rich with ships and vineyards groves of olives trees?

One olive tree - or word - at a time, as Jo Graham's narrator, Gull, finally learns.

As Gull, also addressed as Pythia, Sybil, or simply Lady, travels in search of a new land, she wonders constantly: why? She sees her world - the mysterious crisis of 1200 B.C. - crumbling around her, the great cities gone, the old ways changing. She wants to help, and she tries, through her office as the servant of the Lady of the Dead, or through her own wisdom and gut. She questions and prompts, she seeks and mends and encourages. She closes the eyes of the dying and gives them peace. She knows it is beyond her power to resurrect the dead.

That, however, is exactly what Black Ships does, as a novel; it brings a long-dead past to life. Jo Graham breathes life into Aeneas, or Neas, to everyone who knows him personally, of course. He is the king he was born to be, and yet endlessly human, and in need of guidance, of strength, and even a little luck. He is the man who everyone loves, and yet he does not prevent anyone from loving someone else; consider one of the captains who follows him faithfully across the world, Xandros, who is hunky and always-honorable, except when he's part of a sneaky plot as a means to an end (pirate) .

(And why does that name give me delightful chills? Because it begins with an X? Because it's so thoroughly ancient? Because it sounds a little like "Vandross"? )

Xandros is lively, too, all too human, and we forgive him his weakness for young temple attendants (when we know Gull watches him longingly from the shadows) because we understand he's lost far too much to love easily.

But even more remarkable than the characters who spring fully-formed from the pages, is the world they inhabit. The reader accompanies Gull on her travels, across a restless and often destructive sea, to the cities of the ancient world, and even to Egypt. One of the most beautiful parts of the Aeneid is Book Four, where Aeneas joins Dido at a banquet in Carthage and she falls in love with his stories. We're at that banquet, too, except it's in Memphis, where we find a much less anachronistic Dido than Virgil's, by the name of Princess Basetamon. Under the watchful eyes of her pet cheetah, she is savvy to the ways of war, wise enough to rule under her brother Ramses III, yet still loves and goes mad over Aeneas, or perhaps it is that Aeneas has stirred the madness that was already in her. And there is gold. Hieroglyphics. Ibises. The Nile. Nubian archers. Lots and lots of beans. We're really in Africa, and no one can leave until Graham says so.

Our sea-weary travelers finally come to Latium, as we knew they would, and they find a rich land strangely empty, strong in spirit, with an aging king who truly cares for his people. Like Tolkien's Rohan, it is a place in need of a warrior, in need of an heir. There are touches of humor here, too, as there are throughout. As the barbaric Rutini shake their spears and stamp their dirty feet outside the presumedly weak Latins' walls, the newly-arrived Aeneas and his men, freshly armed with shiny swords and military drilling techniques nicked from the Nubians in Egypt, emerge in ordered regiments from the palace gate to line up in companies, shields in line. "The Rutoli checked," Graham writes. "Whatever they had expected of Latium, this was not it."

Notwithstanding the book's moments of amusing levity and tingling suspense, the conclusion moved me to tears, which is no easy feat. A handful of books and films have accomplished that, ones with the ability to create entire worlds and encompass me inside of them. I was sorry to leave the sea-faring adventures, the beauty of the Mediterranean landscape, the simple honesty of Graham's characters. However much of the book is imagined, there is quite a bit of truth. The book - and the incomparably talented Jo Graham - deserve the best of luck, for as Aeneas says, "Truth needs twice as much luck as falsehood."

There are so many things that make this book more than an adventure or a love story. More striking than the scholarly attention to historical detail is the eternal connection between life and death, the balance of danger and safety; the sweeping sense that love isn't perfect, it never is, and to go fearfully onward in the face of a crumbling world is not to die, but to truly live.

Erotic and beautiful, this is a book I highly recommend to you all. I was absolutely riveted by the story and sat reading entirely too late, night after night, until I finished it. I was swept into the author's world - one I discovered was so much richer and wonderfully complicated than I'd understood before I began reading. And the characters! Ms Graham has created complex people faced with difficult choices as they fought, loved, mourned and cared for each other in the face of the chaotic storms that wracked their world. I came to care for these people so much that I regretted leaving them at the end of the book.

A lot can go wrong in a work of historical fiction, all the more when it's based on a semi-mythological historical record. Since the story has already been plotted out in its entirety the author doesn't have to engage as deeply with her characters as if she'd invented them from nothing, with the result that many such endeavors simply go through the motions instead of truly telling a story. Similarly, the mythological origins of the work can tempt an author to rely on fantastic deus ex machina in lieu of moving the plot forward in a more considered, believable fashion.

Jo Graham's Black Ships retells the Aeneid from the point of view of Gull, a young Trojan captive of the Greek city of Pylos, while avoiding all of the pitfalls mentioned above. Graham is obviously not only a fan of Virgil's work, but of archeological research into the era in which it's set as well, and Black Ships seamlessly blends the mythological with the factual, making the epic poetry of the original work in modern English prose. By rooting her epic in the larger historical context of its time period, Graham adds valuable context and urgency to her narrative while avoiding having to put long expository passages into the mouths of her characters. While the underpinnings of Black Ships are reminiscent of similar novels that blend history with myth and fantasy, Graham approaches her story in a unique way that neither relies too heavily on the fantastic nor the scientific to explain its pivotal aspects. Indeed, her deft handling of historically troubling aspects of the Aeneid such as Aeneas' sojourn in Carthage and the rape of the Sabine women combine fact and spirituality in a way that often makes sense of the original while not sacrificing the otherworldly.

Similarly, Graham earns major kudos for returning the real world to the high adventure of the Aeneid. After all, heroic doings come with painful consequences that aren't as glamorous as the epics makes them seem. The characters of the Aeneid/Black Ships are young. They struggle with love, sexuality, and confusion over competing desires and loyalties; hunger, sickness, and physical insecurity, and their daring deeds are more frequently precipitated by necessity than the desire for valor. Yet although Graham definitely means to impress this point on her readers, she keeps it subtle and believable to the personalities and motivations of her characters. Furthermore, her handling of many aspects that trip up YA and adult authors alike (How do I make romance sensual without being overly crass or precious? How do I handle depictions of violence that stress its horrors without being too graphic?) is quite skillful.

Although I imagined that I would enjoy Black Ships, I wasn't sure if it could compare to old favorites like Megan Whalen Turner's Attolia series or Marion Zimmer Bradley's The Mists of Avalon. Surprisingly, it does--not by slavishly emulating them, but by telling its own story. I cared deeply for all the characters and miss them now that the last page has been turned.