In Mother of Rome, Bear brings to life the story of Rhea Silvia, the princess, priestess, mother and out-and-out rebel of Alba Longa. Rhea’s dazzling disobedience is supported by a cast of complex and vivid characters from the foundation myth of Rome, whose perspectives sometimes narrate the story; her fiercely loyal cousin Antho finds her place in the palace, her scheming uncle Numitor single-mindedly chases power at any cost, her father Amulius flounders in the face of grief, and Faustulus shows an uncommon kindness when Rhea and her boys need it most.

Alongside the mortal characters of Mother of Rome, Bear’s writing is infused with interactions with the gods, both old and new. Rhea’s brief affair with Mars – an act of sexual assault here reframed as one of rebellion – is countered by her long-standing friendship with Tiberinus, the god of the river Tiber. The inclusion of Tiberinus, as well as evocative descriptions of the hills, lakes, and forests of Alba Longa, gives this book a distinctively Italian flavour. Furthermore, Bear’s engagement with the history of Alba Longa and the cultural legacy of its own founder Ascanius, son of Aeneas, makes clear the dual nature of the foundation stories of Rome. In an age of surging interest in mythological retellings, it is unusual to read an exclusively Roman story, but Bear conjures life amongst the seven hills of Rome dramatically and decidedly.

Behind much of Bear’s writing is the theme of parenthood. She exposes the flawed efforts of parents who play it by the book as well as the faults of even the most beloved of parents. Bear demonstrates that parents are just people – they have histories of their own, they make mistakes, and they cannot safeguard their children forever. Bear weaves into the theme of parenthood the threads of politics as a corrupting force, human willingness to turn against the defenceless, and the insatiable greed of those in power. These issues feel as pertinent now as ever, arguably more so. Indeed, the well-known, eventual outcome of Romulus and Remus’ victory over Amulius casts a pall over the ending and Rhea’s admirable attempts to raise her sons to be good men.

Despite the familiarity of this story to many Classicists, there are still surprises to be found in this book (although I will not give away the details). As well as reading for pleasure, this book would be useful in UK schools, particularly to those interested in reading beyond the Foundation Stories module in GCSE Classical Cvilisation’s Myth and Religion paper, or for those grappling with the setting of the Aeneid in A-Level Classical Civilisation. If you enjoy mythological fiction, particularly with portrayals of strong female characters, rebellion, and a hint of the supernatural, Bear’s book is well worth a read.