90 Books Like The Mark of the Damned

While I don’t think it’s possible to have one favorite novel, anytime I need to list just one on an author questionnaire, I usually pick Watership Down; it’s one of the most brilliant books I’ve ever read, and one that rewards repeated rereads.

This collection does a great job of expanding the world of that novel, giving side characters more to do and expanding the mythology that permeates the novel, while the stories are memorable in their own right. 

On my list, this is the only book of poetry, but the emotional journey its linked poems chart makes it perfect for inclusion.

Gilgamesh finds his wild friend Enkidu, loves him, loses him—and is racked by grief. The poems bear us through myriad forms of yearning for a bosom companion who will never come home—a plot of emotions, not events.

A finalist in the Grayson Books Poetry Contest in 2020, the inventively structured book features each poem in English and Spanish on facing pages.

Living has all the best ingredients for an epic slow-burn romance: a shocking first encounter, two very different heroines from completely different worlds, a beautiful friendship that unfolds with care and heartwarming tenderness, and a simmering layer of tense attraction that will keep you turning the pages as fast you can to see the burn finally burst into flames. It’s also a story that handles the topics of grief and depression with respect and a poignancy that makes this story difficult to forget. I love romances that focus on the growth of the individual characters as much as the development of their relationship with each other, and Living does a beautiful job at balancing both.

This may be considered an odd choice on the surface, given the true events of the Trojan War. This was also another I initially struggled with. Nevertheless, despite the factual elements, it’s viewed as one of the earliest epic fantasies in Western literature, along with The Odyssey, which came after.

Centered on just a few days of the ten-year siege of Troy, the lives of humans and their gods are intricately linked. It is one of the earliest examples of pathos with much sympathy actually lying with the enemies, the Trojans, a people based in Asia Minor, and their allies from all over the region. Outside the gods, it also references monsters such as Bellerophon, the Gorgon, and centaurs, with the gods often used as a plot device to refract the emotions and flaws of the characters.

The world-building is vivid and rich in dactylic hexameter, a rhythmic style.… show more.

This is a remarkable book, truly a modern epic poem. The verse is not strictly formal but somehow throughout its length Glaysher maintains interest, so that although his language can seem archaic in places, yet because the poetry is about such current issues that concern us – the fate of planet Earth and humanity more specifically – and because the linguistics are so varied and skillful, we realize that this is a poet working for deliberate effects, and not one who has only read poetry from three hundred years ago. One fabulous quality of this poem is its clarity and luminous quality. I love the fact that this poem is easy to understand and follow: it is a poet writing for people, not one trying to show off.

Sometimes one has to come clean: does nepotism rule? It’s true: Joseph Sale is my son, a successful horror and fantasy novelist. But here he has taken Edmund Spenser’s C16th masterpiece, The Faerie Queen, which was unfinished, and completed it using a different stanzaic form. I’d like to recommend The Faerie Queen itself, but it is too dense and archaic. Joseph’s sequel, by way of contrast, is modern, fast-paced, action-packed, thrilling, and imaginative in the highest order. To see what the heroic is like (and bring out the warrior in you) read Book 6 and Canto 5: the epic descent of Thoth into hell – a match for Gandalf and the Balrog in writing style and power. 

This is my favorite novel in Rieu's prose translation which has a real freshness, as if the very first book. I wanted that sense of freshness for my book, as well as the story of a man desperately trying to get home to his wife. The story takes place in the framework of Sam's 11-year-old imagination, and so carries him and his father through fantastic adventures as trying as those Odysseus faces in The Odyssey. 

Once, on a weeks-long gig far from home, I stayed in a bare attic room with no TV, no internet, not even a radio. I didn’t mind. I had this translation of the Odyssey to settle down with every evening after work. I would think about it all day long: the vivid language, the fantastical events, the struggle and suffering of the protagonist. Reading it was like going to a technicolor movie every night, except that the movie was inside my head.

Talk about an essential human story—the Odyssey is four thousand years old, but its characters have the same emotions, fears, vices, and virtues we have today. Their struggles make my heart race and my eyes tear up. My imagination goes into overdrive, and I revel in the wonder.

Though I love to read Homer’s Odyssey in the original Greek, I also appreciate translations that allow particular themes to emerge in new ways.

All translations of the ancient epic are necessarily inventive recreations of the ancient Greek Homeric story, and I like the way this translation employs a quick-paced poetic meter and updates the tale to suit modern sensibilities on uncomfortable aspects of the Odyssey (e.g., misogyny, slavery).

The introduction also provides an authoritative explanation of the Homeric Odyssey.

For fantasy, adventure, and humanity, I find no book like Homer’s Odyssey. Some prefer the Iliad, but for me, the Odyssey has greater depth, resonance, and experience of life. Most of us know about Odysseus’ wonderful adventures, but the whole second half of the epic is about his attempts to get home and, once home, to reintegrate himself into his family and society, from which he has been absent for twenty years.

I love the way the epic relates stories but also makes you think about what stories mean, why people tell them, and how to tell false ones from true. There are many fine translations of the Odyssey, including Emily Wilson’s recent one; my favorite, however, though a bit dated, remains that of Lattimore.