I finally finished Steven Pressfield's Gates Of Fire. I say finally because I would read some and put it down for a while before taking it up again. In the last few years I have not managed to read very many books which is in stark contrast to most of the years prior; I was always a voracious reader. There are a number of reasons for this behavior on my part, none of which are part of this post. So why did I put this critically acclaimed book down repeatedly? I struggled with that question as well.
You may wish to read a nicely written, spot on review of the book here at TheSilverKey.
I agree that the book is well written, the material appears well researched, and the picture painted is one of grim reality of extraordinary men. I should have been a target audience for this book. I am interested in history, battles and adventure stories. I do not easily find fault with this book, however it never grabbed me. I suppose it is that simple. I was not on the edge of my seat wondering how it would end; we all know how one of the most famous historical battles of all times ends. Perhaps more importantly I could not identify with any of the characters. Yes, they are human enough but somehow they were foreign to me. Without a connection to one or more of the characters it was easy to put the book down, and once down it was not calling to me.
You may have a different experience, and judging by others reviews of this book I am likely in the minority.