Odyssey Audiobook – Mythos, Book 4

I first pressed play on Stephen Fry’s “Odyssey” one gray, rain-dappled morning in Portland while making my favorite pour-over coffee—a fittingly epic ritual for a book that transforms ancient legend into something that feels fresh and vital. I’ll admit: Greek myths have never been at the top of my reading list since high school forced Homer on us, but Fry immediately made me feel like I was listening to an old friend gossiping about the most dramatic road trip ever attempted.

“Odyssey” is the fourth entry in Fry’s Greek Myths series, yet it stands perfectly on its own. Fry’s signature wit shines from the very first minutes: his narration is so alive with playful energy, every god and monster given a distinct personality (Poseidon gets a thunderous growl; Odysseus himself sounds slyly self-satisfied). It doesn’t take long before you realize this isn’t just another retelling—Fry invites us into an intimate fireside chat where he both reveres and teases these larger-than-life stories.

For me, what made this audiobook special wasn’t just its humor or clever asides (though those abound), but how deeply relatable Odysseus’s struggles became through Fry’s voice. The longing for home after years away reminded me of times when life felt uncertain or overwhelming—the ache to get back to loved ones resonates across millennia. The moments when Odysseus falters or makes questionable choices struck a chord too; we’re all capable of both bravery and blunders.

One thing I loved was how approachable—and frankly bingeable—Fry makes the material. He doesn’t shy away from pointing out how ridiculous or problematic some elements are (“Didn’t anyone learn about boundaries in ancient Greece?” he jokes at one point). At the same time, his clear affection for these tales infuses them with warmth rather than cynicism. There were scenes—like facing down Scylla and Charybdis—that had me gripping my mug tight, completely immersed as if I’d never heard any version before.

That said, there are definitely repetitive beats (if you took a sip every time someone called Odysseus ‘wily’, you’d be tipsy by chapter three!). Some adventures drag while others feel rushed—which perhaps reflects oral storytelling tradition more than modern pacing preferences. And it would have been nice if Fry interrogated the story’s treatment of women beyond simply presenting them as written; even delivered with irony, Penelope’s passive patience versus Circe and Calypso’s manipulations start feeling stale under today’s lens.

Despite these flaws, Fry absolutely nails what matters most: joyfully bringing myth to life. His performance is magnetic—there’s genuine delight whenever he voices devious gods or belligerent monsters—and it often feels like he can barely keep from laughing along with us. The finale (Odysseus returning to Ithaca incognito) plays out like vintage action cinema—with suspenseful pauses and triumphant crescendos you can practically see on screen.

As someone who grew up intimidated by “The Odyssey,” hearing it reimagined by Stephen Fry was not only educational but surprisingly moving—and yes, fun! This isn’t just for classics buffs; it’s perfect for anyone curious about why these tales still echo today…or anyone looking for ten hours of smart escapism that leaves you marveling at our shared humanity across ages.

If your only exposure to Greek myths was zoning out during English class, give this audiobook a chance—you might find yourself hooked like I did. But fair warning: once you finish “Odyssey,” you’ll probably want to queue up all of Fry’s mythology books!