Books like Dante's Divine Comedy — picked by fans

Not only is Rutu Modan one of my favorite illustrators she is also an extremely talented story writer and Exit Wounds is no exception. This was also one of the first graphic novels I had ever read and was so captivating. Her unique art style and writing are truly amazing. I love her color pallet and how it really keeps you engaged from panel to panel. Without giving away spoilers this book is based on real-life events and really gives you a greater sense of life in other countries can be like for better and for worse. 

I love all of Rutu Modan’s books but this one really hit home for me.

A powerful memoir of first love and moving past religious trauma. Craig’s journey as a young evangelical who wants to be an artist was incredibly relatable to me and helped me feel brave enough to give voice to some of my own secret pains in my graphic novel.

The black and white ink work throughout the book is exquisite, and the honesty of the story is brave and moving.

This book was a hidden gem for me. I found this on a dusty shelf in an old bookstore and was instantly in love with its whimsical drawings. The simplicity of color use and a narrative are told only through its illustrations. Intended for young adult readers, however, this book really is for all dreamers of ages. 

Don't Go Where I Can't Follow is a masterpiece in my opinion. This deeply personal story is based on the author's own life and the loss of his fiancé. A look into someone else’s struggles and hardships using drawing and photographs, notes, and sketches this novel is truly a beautiful collection of their relationship together. This one really resonates with me and hurts my heart, but I love it so much and I highly recommend picking up a copy as soon as you can.  

I’ve always had a weak spot for etchings and engravings.

My mother was a woodcut artist, and I suspect that in some prior life, parallel universe, or retirement plan, I am an etcher, even though certain of the techniques baffle me. The value of the medium is both aesthetic—to pronounce exactly—but also practical—to allow for copies.

Either way, and especially in the case of Doré, the effect is to cement the image, and in this way to do a kind of terrible thing, when you think about it: to rob Dante’s image from the reader’s imagination, to define what an angel looks like, or a storm, or the contours of heaven and hell.

So should we curse an artist like Doré, for having come between us and the poem, or do we thank him, for preserving it more indelibly than the words alone ever could?

Just as Dante needed good guides on his epic journey through the afterlife, so contemporary readers typically need reliable companions on their own journeys into Dante’s poem. The best thing, I find, is to read Dante with, and alongside, his commentators. An ideal way to do this is through the invaluable online Dartmouth Dante Project and Dante Lab, which provide the entire texts of more than 75 of these commentaries in a customisable digital workspace. But if you want a book to hand, The Cambridge Companion to Dante’s ‘Commedia’ provides a really helpful overview of Dante’s masterpiece and its core narrative, linguistic, cultural, and doctrinal features, as well as useful introductions to the poem’s composition and reception. 

This book was a revelation to me in first studying Dante. Here was an author taking Dante’s questions, and his answers to those questions, seriously. A brilliant Cambridge Italianist and a Dominican priest, Kenelm Foster is passionately engaged with the theology of Dante.

In this book, he provides his celebrated account of the ‘Two Dantes,’ one overly committed to paganism, the other devoted to Christianity. He also develops his comparison between Aquinas’s theory of implicit faith (according to which pagans may be saved) and Dante’s strange invention of a section of limbo in which virtuous pagans are, it seems, eternally damned. Although I do not hold now to all of Foster’s provocative assumptions or conclusions, I still find his mode of questioning Dante, and reading Dante historically and theologically, inspirational and exhilarating.  

Some of the most original scholarship on Dante in the past fifty or so years has been historical and contextual. This research enables us to understand Dante’s texts more fully in their own immediate contexts, of course, but it also reflects the fact that many readers of Dante become increasingly interested in the wider contexts – ethical, political, philosophical, theological, economic, literary, cultural, etc. – that Dante’s own poetic masterpiece opens up. In thirty chapters, the collaborative volume Dante in Context exemplifies the best of this historical and contextual work, and provides an invaluable introduction to the world of Dante.   

After writing La Bella Lingua, I thought I had learned many of Florence’s hidden stories. Botticelli’s Secret proved me wrong. Although we‘ve never met, I think of Joseph Luzzi as a kindred soul who shares my passion for Italy's language, art, and literature. With a scholar’s depth and a writer’s deft touch, he re-creates the brilliance and complexity of the Renaissance and traces its impact through the centuries since. At the same time, Luzzi draws us into a layered mystery that crosses centuries and unfolds in ever richer, deeper dimensions. 

If you haven’t visited Florence, you’ll want to explore Botticelli’s and Dante’s hometown. If you have, you’ll want to return to deepen your appreciation of the city where artists and writers re-invented Western civilization.

This really engaging book shows how Capital, Volume 1 is implicitly modelled on Dante’s Inferno, from the way Marx stages the descent (katabasis) into the hell of the 19th-century factory to the division of the French and English translations into 33 chapters, mirroring the 33 cantos of Dante’s famous poem. Roberts almost makes you forget you’re reading political theory, an effect Marx was aiming for in trying to reach his socialist and working-class audiences.