100 Books Like Zorba the Greek

I thought it was great to have Circe herself narrate her love affair with Odysseus.

The first half of the novel interestingly shares her tribulations growing up as a child in a family of gods. I found that this establishes a theme of immortality vs. mortality that the book explores in profound ways. Especially fascinating was Circe’s personal story of her love affair with Odysseus.

I was surprised and delighted that Miller included the resulting child, Telegonus, who is not in Homer but is in ancient myth. Even more surprising to me was Circe falling in love with Telemachus, Odysseus’ son by Penelope (also not in Homer!). This relationship allows the novel to end on a positive note as Circe learns to live like a mortal in her new life with Telemachus.

Ever since reading this book, I *can’t* think of the original version of the Iliad without referencing his haunting retelling from Patroclus’ perspective. Miller did such an incredible job putting me in the story and making the characters so real that I actively missed them when I put the book down.

It doesn’t hurt that it has some of the most beautiful poetic language I’ve encountered in story form. Helen is more of a background character playing her classic role, but I was still fascinated because Miller plays on the demigod aspect of both Helen and Achilles in a way that makes them steal any scene they’re in. There’s a quiet power to them that transcends the page.    

This is one of the most powerful religious books I’ve ever read. It’s difficult work, and it took me a couple of days to understand the concept. Buber articulates that you can deal with people either as things or as souls. Many of us unconsciously place people in relation to ourselves as an “it.” But if you see past what a person appears to be, your relation to them becomes “I-Thou” rather than “I-it.”

I read it in my early 20s and am still impacted by how it teaches us to treat people as their inner selves. 

This has to be one of–if not the–greatest single book I’ve ever read about war in the ancient world. I read the first ten pages, and I was interested; then I read the next forty, and I was utterly hooked. As a description of an elite military force holding out against overwhelming odds it fascinated me, but as a human story of the way Spartan society worked to produce those warriors, imbued with heroism, honour and humour in equal amounts I was simply blown away.

It’s fair to say that this book has been my greatest influence all the way through my writing career. I dare anyone with an interest in the genre to read this and then deny that they were informed, entertained, and (perhaps darkly) amused by the story and its payoff. This is God-tier writing, plain and simple, and, not for no reason, the closest thing the… show more.

I liked the concept of man being small and adrift in the darkness of the wide world. This book taught me to see through politics, grandstanding, and the grandiose nonsense of man. Swift is my kind of guy, brutally satirical and profound. This book is really not for children. We see Gulliver travel on many adventures and experience Swift's disappointment as he engages different cultures, small and large, rational and irrational. 

His adventures demolish Gulliver’s sense of humanity to the point that when he is about to be rescued, at first, he rejects the offer like a misanthrope before finally climbing aboard. Swift is very dark here. Why would anyone want to return to the same old life after having their eyes opened?

For many Greeks and Greek-Americans, Eleni is a literary north star, especially in the world of non-fiction. On one hand, it’s an urgent and imperative testimony to a brutal and tragic event that the world and history at large have over-looked and forgotten, and on the other, and a more personal level, it’s a poignant and devastatingly powerful testament of a son’s love for his mother. Revenge and forgiveness are constantly at odds and at the forefront of this journey, which also doubles as an important and specific type of immigrant story and experience. Which one will ultimately win out: revenge or forgiveness? In the end, it’s the reader who wins, because the story of Eleni Gatzoyiannis and her son Nikolaos is timeless, unforgettable, and will leave all who read it forever changed.

People kept telling me to read it, so I finally did–just in time to include it on this list. Rotating narrators–a White missionary’s wife and four daughters from the American South–represent disparate points of view concerning their family’s move to the Belgian Congo in 1959.

One thing I loved is the attention to historical detail and Kingsolver’s ability to include multiple, complex subplots to better frame the colonial history of this particular time/place and to better demonstrate the insidious ongoing brutality of colonization in terms of inequitable global wealth.

Language and religion play a major role in the plundering resource extraction industries, as do political and military interference, apartheid, and so much more. I loved her exploration of language(s): the power held in naming and misnaming. The youngest daughter sums it up best. “My life: what I stole from history, and how I live with it.” Characters are primarily White… show more.

I enjoy the dark humor in this one—savage and satirical, targeting pomposity. Voltaire uses a series of essays to show Candide going on travels and adventures, and meeting ignorance and bliss in turn. At the end, Candide reaches the conclusion that he should just “tend his own garden.”

It’s an ironic anti-clerical work that strips bare the follies and foibles of mankind. I appreciate how he didn’t hesitate to deconstruct the religious conditioning of the time.

This book is personal to me. My ancestry is Hawaiian, and I have often stared at the old photographs of my Hawaiian great-grandparents, which were taken at the beginning of the 20th century, and wondered about their world.

This book begins also at the turn of the century, and as I read, I imagined that Rachel, the protagonist, might be walking down the street at the same time as Mary, my 6-foot-tall great-grandmother. Although I had often heard that there was a “leper colony”(we now refer to it as Hansen’s disease) on the island of Moloka’i, I knew almost nothing about it.

Through this book, reading the descriptions of the clothes and houses, the language and attitudes through history into the 1980s, I really felt like I was a passenger on a voyage through my grandparent’s world. 

Even though this love story is set in very tragic times–The Spanish Civil War and the troubles in Chile–we follow the journey of two refugees, Victor and Rose, whose forced marriage gradually deepens into true love.

The author, herself an immigrant in the USA, meaningfully draws out questions facing so many migrants and refugees: Where do I belong? Where are my roots? Is my heart divided, or has it grown bigger?