Mythos: The Greek Myths Retold

There must be a trait, possibly genetic, that endows people with the ability to memorize (and care about) the most absurd trivia: names and relationships and who-said-what-to-whom. It's probably the same trait that makes people know and care about Prophet This and Saint That and Verse Mumble in the judeochristimuslim pantheon. Thank FSM that I didn't inherit that.Mythos was fun, mostly, but sooooo mind-numbing. So many characters and stories and interweavings among them: Fry's most common phrase was “you may recall” or “as you'll no doubt remember” in reference to some name or another, always with helpful hints of when we had last seen them, which for the most part flew way over my head. Yeah, I vaguely remember some god getting angry/horny/confused and turning some other mortal into a pig/swan/heffalump, but by halfway through they all blur together and by the end I just wanted it over with. Fry writes with a joyful flippancy, occasional snark, and that kept me going; but really, the gods and demigods and pretty much almost everyone in the tales are garbage. Petty, vindictive, shallow, immature, immoral, whiny, petulant snots. (I know, I know. I've said this before, most recently in my review of [b:Circe 39800116 Circe Madeline Miller https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1523427322l/39800116.SY75.jpg 53043399]. I really should learn not to read any more about Greek gods).I mean, it was enjoyable, and Fry's retelling made me grin often, but at the end of the day I'm no different than before reading. I will not remember any of the stories, nor the difference between a Titan and a God or any of the other confusing offspring. I like to retain something from what I've read, like to grow or change or think, and I just don't see that happening as a result of this book. (Much like the perpetually sophomoric gods themselves, I suppose).