When I was a kid, I sometimes say on the floor in the front room of our basement reading stories from a colorful, 10-volume set of Junior Classics that my parents kept on a bookshelf there. Eventually, my attention wandered upward, to books crammed onto some higher shelves -- many of them, I later learned, had been my father's books when he was in high school and college. I read some of them years later, when I was in high school -- books such as Brave New World, 1984 and Catcher in the Rye, as well as more modern classics such as The Boys from Brazil and a James Bond novel or two -- but in those younger days, my eye was drawn to a well-worn copy of Edith Hamilton's Mythology.

I read it. I read it again. By the time I graduated from high school, I lost track of how many times I'd turned those pages.

It began a lifelong love for mythology. At first, I was an avid reader just of the classical myths of Greece and Rome, devouring books by Homer, Ovid and Virgil, Bulfinch and more, when other kids my age were still reading about the Bobbsey Twins.

But I kept returning to Edith Hamilton. At some point, Dad told me to keep his copy. I don't know how many times I read it until, sadly, it was lost in a flood in my own basement, so many years after I first discovered it in my parents'. Eventually I bought myself a new copy, a reprint from 2011. (The book, first published in 1942, has been reprinted many different times, with many different covers; Dad's copy, published sometime in the 1950s, had my favorite cover art -- Perseus, holding aloft Medusa's head -- of the all the various editions.)

Eventually, my interest in the vain and lustful gods of Olympus waned somewhat in comparison to Hamilton's final section, a very brief collection of chapters devoted to Norse mythology that ignited my imagination even more. I have read many, far more complete volumes of Norse mythology since, but I never forgot the book that started it all.

In fact, it spurred a larger interest in world mythologies, leading me to explore the legends from other European regions -- the Celtic nations in particular became a favorite -- and the rest of the world.

And I owe it all to a well-read book that I found on my father's shelf. I can't thank Edith Hamilton -- and, of course, Dad -- enough! And, paging through it now, I am reminded how well written Mythology is. The tales are written in engaging prose, and each story is thorough without being too complex or bogged down in unnecessary detail.

At the start of each chapter, Hamilton briefly describes the sources she used for each story. For example, she begins the chapter on the Athenian hero Theseus with a short description of the various works that involve him, then adds: "I have followed Apollodorus on the whole, but I have added from Euripides the stories of the appeal of Adrastus, the madness of Hercules, and the fate of Hippolytus; from Sophocles his kindness to Oedipus; from Plutarch the story of his death, to which Apollodorus gives only a sentence." The chapter on Jason's quest for the Golden Fleece, she says, is drawn largely from Apollonius of Rhodes, with some elements taken from Pindar and, again, Euripides.

Just in case you wanted to know.

Anyone who has never dabbled in classical mythology can read this book and come away with a fairly comprehensive knowledge of the subject. Or, if it's been a while, and maybe you don't feel inclined to tackle Ovid or Homer, this works as a more than adequate refresher course. Either way, it's a very pleasant collection of these timeless legends.

(If I have one quibble, it's the title Hamilton chose for her book. Mythology is a broad concept, encompassing the beliefs and stories from all cultures on the Earth. A book focused almost entirely on just one pantheon should have gotten a more focused title. Greek & Roman Mythology, or Classical Mythology. Heck, Fun with Zeus & Hera would have worked!)