Classicist Emily Hauser brings a historian’s touch to her debut novel, a retelling of the Trojan War. In the vein of authors like Marion Zimmer Bradley and Ursula K. Le Guin, both of whom also penned female-centric mythic adaptations, FOR THE MOST BEAUTIFUL gives this well-worn tale new life.

How? By offering up the perspectives of two lesser-known, but pivotal, characters: Briseis, a princess who nearly stopped the war, and Krisayis (better known as Chryseis), a Trojan priestess-in-waiting who’s determined to help her friends win the war --- at any cost. Both young women are interesting characters through which to filter the story. Briseis is a wonderfully tragic heroine; just when she seems to find happiness, it falls through her fingers.

"In the vein of authors like Marion Zimmer Bradley and Ursula K. Le Guin, both of whom also penned female-centric mythic adaptations, FOR THE MOST BEAUTIFUL gives this well-worn tale new life."

When her beloved husband falls victim to the deadly Achilles, she’s taken into the Greek camp; grief pervades her every action, which is all too realistic. But as much as Briseis grieves, she all too quickly --- and unrealistically --- falls head over Achilles’ heel for the man who ruined her life. Hauser spends so much time setting up Briseis’ grief that her abrupt about-face undermines her credibility as a narrator and ultimately her likability. This implausibility is compounded by the fact that, in this book, most of the Trojan War --- which stretched out over 10 years --- takes place all in one year. This rushed timeline makes the development of realistic conflict challenging.

In contrast to the more passive Briseis, whose overt resistance to the Greeks only manifests itself towards the end of the story, Krisayis is much more dynamic and likable. She’s a commoner who’s being forced to be a priestess of Apulunas --- the supposed Anatolian name for Apollo --- which is the last thing she wants, especially since she’s in love with a Trojan prince named Troilus. Hauser sets up her internal conflict beautifully. But while Briseis is earnest and intelligent, Krisayis, whose endless antics are admirable, tries too hard, à la a stereotypic Gryffindor from Harry Potter. Ultimately, it’s the quieter Briseis whose resistance is more effective and compelling.

Interspersed between Briseis’ and Krisayis’ points of view are cheery interludes from the Olympian gods, who arrange matters on earth to their great amusement. Hermes and his co-conspirator/half-brother, Apollo, are endlessly entertaining as they flit from heaven to Troy and back again, and the machinations of the divine are nothing short of brilliant. They offer a nice counterpoint to the human sufferings of our tortured heroines.