98 Books Like The Odyssey

Sometimes, I need reminding that the greatest discoveries can be close at hand and that simply living alertly is a sublime source of joy. When I read this book, which I have done again and again, I feel my perceptions sharpen, my sense of humor renew, and my hunger, both to read and to write, begin to stir.

As youth is sometimes wasted on the young, so is this book, which is too often assigned to people who aren’t ready for it. Thoreau’s mind is like a fire I never tire of sitting beside. He’s a rebel, a curmudgeon, a jokester, a poet, and the most down-to-earth philosopher our culture has seen. And he knows that wonder is a breakfast food, which he dishes out with utter nonchalance.

This is a hero’s journey, right out of Joseph Campbell: a young man goes to sea, circumnavigates the globe, and experiences marvel after marvel of nature. What he learns on his journey matures into a kind of wisdom that transforms the world.

Darwin’s adventures keep me on the edge of my seat; his descriptions seduce me; his ideas inspire me. I want to be there with him as he recoils from the horrors of slavery in Brazil or observes the aftermath of a Chilean earthquake. And I feel I truly am with him, collecting birds and lizards on the islands of the Galapagos, as he begins to divine the answer to one of the greatest mysteries of the world.

The Snow Leopard portrays a spiritual quest as much as a physical journey.

Peter Matthiessen went to the Himalayas in search of the elusive snow leopard in 1973. He relates his personal circumstances like a sledgehammer on the book’s third page, stating in matter-of-fact terms that his wife had just died of cancer. I will never forget reading The Snow Leopard at the outset of my own journey from Stockholm to the far north of Sweden, inside the Arctic Circle, where a friend and I were set to undertake a long backpacking trip to celebrate my 40th birthday.

This remarkable book was my companion and helped me understand that the mountains are not there to be conquered. To the extent they take notice of human beings at all, they exist to help us learn and grow: to discover what Matthiessen called “the common miracles,” like the satisfaction of a day… show more.

Until reading this book (and Stone above), I had accepted that the historical version of womanhood we are given was accurate. While I had been a girl who liked to be active, ride horses, and involve myself in big questions, I believed I was a bizarre example of emerging feminism, not the inheritor of a powerful legacy.

Mayor’s book showed me that there have been women for thousands of years who owned and managed themselves. There was a historical example for me to point towards. The Amazons were real women who lived in communities that were uniquely sovereign. It made my being quake in the profundity of what it meant for a woman today to point to a woman 2000 years ago and say, “Me too” in a whole new way.

Patti Smith’s book beautifully chronicles her intense and formative friendship with the groundbreaking artist Robert Mapplethorpe as they navigated the vibrant and often gritty art scene of late 1960s and 1970s New York City.

Theirs wasn’t a fairytale romance, but a complex, evolving bond between two flawed yet undeniably brilliant creatives. Reading about their struggles, their artistic pursuits within the legendary Chelsea Hotel, and the wider New York City scene evoked a strong sense of nostalgia for me, a time and place I've always found artistically inspiring.

The exploration of their creative partnership, the push and pull between them as individuals finding their artistic voices, is something I’ve often yearned for but haven’t quite experienced in such a profound way.

When I want to be astonished by the fierce and tender realities of the natural world—which is pretty much always—I read the late poet Mary Oliver. These are immersive essays by a writer who infused the very act of observation with a sacred energy—in her own words, “attention is the beginning of devotion.”

The essays are alive with animal life and soar with Oliver’s signature, forthright voice. In one essay, she rescues an injured gull. In another, she forages the eggs of a snapping turtle for dinner. Oliver humbly witnesses and partakes of the mystery and turns companionably to her reader with stirring questions: “Do you think there is anything not attached by its unbreakable cord to everything else?”

The Metamorphoses, or Transformations, by the Roman poet Ovid is one of the most-read books of ancient literature because of its hundreds of wonderful stories as well as the charm of its witty and ironic author.

Since the stories he relates are all myths and legends, the Metamorphoses amounts to a virtual handbook of classical mythology. The theme of supernatural transformation runs through them all, portraying a world forever in flux, as someone or something is marvelously and surprisingly changed in some large or small way.

I like the vibrant new translation by Stephanie McCarter.

The ancient Greeks were not only good at making serious art such as epics and tragedies, they were also good at making fun of them in literature and art.

In the realm of art, the most abundant source of humor is painted vases, which were manufactured mostly for the use of men at symposia, or drinking parties.

Greek mythology was a favorite subject of the vase painters, and Mitchell’s richly-illustrated study of humorous vases provides a fun and unusual window into ancient burlesque treatments of Greek myths and legends.  

This book is for lovers of mythology who want the big picture. 

The Greeks descended from speakers of a now-vanished, prehistoric language known as Proto-Indo-European. Accordingly, they share a linguistic and cultural heritage with other speakers of Indo-European languages, which include speakers of Italic languages, Germanic languages, Slavic languages, Romance languages, Iranian languages, and others. 

With astonishing learning and an almost unparalleled command of ancient and modern languages, the late Martin West identifies elements that the Greeks inherited from their Indo-European ancestors and carried with them when they entered Europe, including Father Sky, Mother Earth, the Sun god and his beautiful daughter, the Thunder god, and nymphs; particular myths and legends; certain conceptions of the world, death, and fate; and much more.  

I can’t stop going back to this book, which I have read in various translations under various titles. No book I know better documents the transformation of a human being. Abandoned, shipwrecked, and enslaved, Cabeza de Baca, a conquistador in the model of Cortez, begins a barefoot trek across the American Southwest as one kind of man and ends it as the opposite of the man who started out.

His memoir has the shape and structure of an adventure novel, and, truly, this narrative is where American literature begins. He leaves me in awe of his will to survive, his capacity for adaptation, and his compassion and love for the native world that he had come to the continent’s shores to subjugate.