Recently a friend asked me if, as a child, my favorite story in Edith Hamilton’s Mythology was Perseus vs. Medusa. “I liked the Perseus story,” I said, “But my favorite was the House of Atreus.” “That explains so much,” she said.
The House of Atreus was a spectacularly unlucky royal clan: bloodshed, murder, matricide, human sacrifice, hounding by The Furies, curses and eternal punishment. The cause of the family’s doom was their ancestor, Tantalus.
Tantalus was a favorite of the gods, but he turned against them for no particular reason. He invited them to a banquet at his palace, where he served them a meat stew made of his son Pelops. But his immortal guests knew what the dish was made of. They restored Pelops to life—a feat, as he had been chopped up and cooked—and condemned Tantalus to an eternity of torment. He was set in a pool in the underworld, in a state of perpetual hunger and thirst. Every time he stooped to have a drink of water, the water would drain away instantly. Around the pool were the low-hanging branches of trees heavily laden with fruit. Every time he reached for the fruit, the branches would move away. Tantalus was surrounded by food and drink, but he could never slake his hunger and thirst. I think the verb “to tantalize” comes from his name.
House Atreides in Frank Herbert’s science-fiction epic Dune was probably descended from the House of Atreus, hence their bad luck. The original Atreus, by the way, discovered that his brother was in love with his (Atreus’s) wife. So he had his brother’s children killed, cooked, and served to the unsuspecting brother. What a recipe to be handed down for generations.
Published in 1942, Mythology by Edith Hamilton is a retelling of myths and legends from ancient Greece, Rome, and Scandinavia. The creation myths, the heroic tales of Jason, Hercules and Theseus (the early superheroes), the Iliad, Odyssey, and Aeneid, the Norse sagas, they’re all here. These stories are not meant to convey moral lessons (The ancient gods behaved very badly, much worse than the humans) or to teach people how to live (I do know that eating people is wrong). They’re just great stories, and a solid foundation for appreciating literature. These myths were the subjects of classical art, opera, poetry, and theatre, and knowing them enriches one’s understanding of all these works. Those classical allusions in Shakespeare, James Joyce, and everyone else—they’re all here. Those women in helmets and long blonde braids in eight-hour Wagner operas—this is what they’re bellowing about. If you plan to take up reading, this is a good place to start.
From
http://jessicarulestheuniverse.com/ 
