Books like Captain Corelli's Mandolin — picked by fans

“I ask for freedom for my book.” This was the plea the Ukrainian-Jewish writer and war correspondent Vassily Grossman sent to Premier Nikita Khrushchev after the manuscript of his novel, Life and Fate, was confiscated by the KGB.

Set during the Battle of Stalingrad, Life and Fate (in the tradition of Tolstoy) follows an enormous cast of soldiers, scientists, prisoners, bureaucrats, mothers, and children whose lives intersect as Grossman moves seamlessly from freezing trenches and shattered apartment blocks to extermination camps, interrogation rooms, and laboratories haunted by political fear.

What made the book unforgivable to Soviet censors was Grossman’s daring choice to portray Stalinism and Nazism not as ideological opposites, but as terrifying reflections of one another. Both are regimes built upon fear, conformity, and the crushing of individual freedom. Few books convey so powerfully both the scale of historical horror and the stubborn endurance of human dignity.

Life… show more.

I could not put down this book; it was so good.

I read it late at night, I read it on the metro going to work, I read it on my lunch break, I even took it to a birthday party and read it there between the toasts and the jokes.

I’ve always liked mythology, but at times it was too dry and gloomy. So I always looked for a different story about the ancient myths, and this book delivered it. I especially loved the notes at the bottom of the page, which were even funnier than the text. 

Laurent Binet’s debut novel of “metafiction” draws its title from the chilling Nazi saying, “Himmler’s brain is called Heydrich” (Himmlers Hirn heißt Heydrich), a reference to Reinhard Heydrich, an architect of the Holocaust and one of the most terrifying figures in the Third Reich.

Known as “The Blond Beast,” Heydrich governed occupied Prague through terror, executions, and mass repression. His assassination by Czech resistance fighters in 1942 forms the heart of the novel.

Binet approaches this story in an entirely original way. Rather than hiding behind an omniscient narrator, he constantly steps into the narrative himself, revealing his anxieties, obsessions, research struggles, and doubts about how we write historical fiction. The result is a daring blend of thriller, memoir, history, and philosophical inquiry. The novel is gripping, unsettling, and fiercely intelligent, not only exploring the past but also how we write about it.

My current can’t-put-this-down read, The Island of Missing Trees is set between present-day London and Cyprus in the 1970s during the break-out of the civil war on the island.

It’s a family drama told in third person but interspersed between chapters following the lives of Ada and her star-crossed parents, a Greek man and a Turkish woman, there are whole sections of this book told from the perspective of a fig tree.

I particularly enjoy all of these sections because I never thought I might find myself one day sympathising/empathising with a tree and yet somehow, Shafak is really able to make me feel for that lonely fig tree whose comments on the world and human nature are so profound and thought provoking, they’ve invaded even my dreams. 

The Colossus of Maroussi is a book all wanderers and visitors of Greece should dip into at least once.

It’s a travelogue that drips with humour from the brilliant Henry Miller. It is a collection of fantastic prose inspired by the islands and mainland that Miller visited in the early 20th Century. It offers great wit and wisdom as well as cultural insights that still feel incredibly relevant to Greece today, despite the book being published in the 1940s.

When I think of great travel literature, this book is a classic. It speaks on the Greek people - their strength, stoicism, and humour - and chronicles a time in Greece before mass tourism descended and changed the islands forever.

This book is pure poetry to me. It follows the lives of three sisters on the precipice of adulthood during 1930s Greece.

I love that when it was published in the 1940s here in Greece, it was seen as a scandalous piece of literature. I can see why - Liberaki writes fervently and openly about the trials and tribulations of female teenhood, detailing gossip, romance, and even the loss of virginity with such poise and vim that it is still relevant and relatable to women today.

It was the kind of book that my own Greek Yiayia (grandmother) was absolutely not allowed to get her hands on. This book, for me, has it all. It’s bucolic, romantic, and oozes beautiful imagery of the hot, dry summers in Athens and the surrounding countryside. A perfect character study.

Few novels examine the resistance of ordinary, unarmed civilians against occupation. Robert Crichton’s The Secret of Santa Vittoria is one of those books.

After the fall of Mussolini in July 1943, German troops occupy the (fictional) village of Santa Vittoria, distinguished only for its wine. The Germans are there to steal it. In the face of losing their wine, their livelihood, and their dignity, the villagers—usually fractious and commonplace—discover unity and extraordinary courage to resist. Hiding the wine, they confront the Germans with a stalwart moral courage.

Crichton’s novel explores both the humor and horror of life at war and the potential of the human spirit. The result is both deeply entertaining and emotionally stirring. Its celebrated film adaptation starring Anthony Quinn helped preserve the story’s legacy, but the novel itself remains one of the great overlooked treasures of wartime fiction.

Set in a world of “faded women” and “ragged boys” where “the price of human flesh was slumping from day to day,” Curzio Malaparte’s The Skin is a fictionalized autobiographical account of life in Southern Italy under the occupation of American forces.

An unforgettable read due to its relentless moral ambiguity, Malaparte refuses to portray anyone as innocent. Occupiers and occupied, victors and defeated, are all trapped within a world where traditional ideas of honor and civilization have disintegrated. His famous dedication to the “brave, good, and humble” American soldiers “who died in vain in the cause of European freedom” drips with ambiguity. Is he conveying sincere gratitude, bitter irony, or both simultaneously? The novel never provides easy answers.

At times grotesque, even hallucinatory, The Skin contains scenes so strange and horrifying they linger long after reading: banquets amid starvation, children transformed into commodities, entire social classes reduced to scavenging… show more.

For me, the standout history of the Battle of Crete to this day remains this book, first published back in 1966. Stewart was able to bring his own experience of the war to bear–he had served as a medical officer with a British unit and witnessed with his own eyes the spectacular airborne German invasion.

This is not, however, a first-hand battle account but rather the beautifully crafted result of six years of research drawing on voluminous first-hand accounts, archival sources, and histories. I am drawn to the compelling descriptions of battle while also appreciating the skill with which the author places the Battle of Crete in its wider political and strategic context. 

I found this book fascinating for its fresh take on WWII: the experiences of a senior Greek police official amidst a web of spies leading to the Nazi occupation. I was enthralled; the characters and historical detail were exquisite. The struggle of a man against overwhelming evil while risking everything was inspiring.

This book stood out as my favorite from Furst’s Night Soldiers series because of its emotional impact. I was inspired to further research this theater of the war.