I have vivid memories of many books from my childhood, but the one I remember most fondly is D’Aulaire’s Book of Greek Myths. I imagine what first drew me to it were the illustrations: joyful swaths of color pencil bringing gods and fauns and nymphs to vivid life. Soon enough, however, I was pulled into the stories of the characters who danced across the pages: the puckish Hermes with his vagabond charm, the gentle Melampus conversing with snakes, the tragic Orpheus lamenting in the wood.

Each tale was more wonderful than the one before, telling of men covered in eyes, beautiful women turned to trees, and ridiculously foolish kings. And the gods; the Greek gods, who, in all of their nobility, foolishness, fickleness, wrath, and (ironic but intensely characteristic) humanity, shine as some of the brightest treasures in the human storytelling tradition. With enthusiasm and skill, Ingri d’Aulaire and Edgar Parin d’Aulaire do them the highest justice.

The final, glorious chapter is titled “Everything Must Come to an End”. Against a backdrop of crumbling temples and brilliant stars, the d’Aulaires tell of the closing of the gods’ golden age. Full of wonder at the stories and sorrow at their fading, these last few pages will always stand out in my mind as writing of the highest caliber and deepest feeling.

I wish every child could have a chance to read this book. It is fascinating, entertaining, beautiful, and the stories and ideals found in its pages offer ample succor for the daunting task of growing up.

Recommended for readers nine and up.