Fans pick 100 books like Jimbo in Purgatory

This satiric, beautifully drawn update of Gustave Flaubert’s novel Madame Bovary brings the story to the 1990s. Simmonds’ writing is witty and well-observed, with blocks of prose interspersed among the flowing panel sequences. It’s a rich, layered reading experience, deeper than those graphic novels which only emphasize the visuals. Simmonds writes as elegantly as she draws, with subtlety and style. 

There’s no shortage of worthy graphic novel adaptations of Shakespeare, but Wimberly’s is a standout. His remix of Romeo and Juliet focuses on the supporting characters and moves the setting to 1980s Brooklyn. Hip-hop and graffiti culture commingles with the swordplay. Wimberly samples Shakespeare’s text in his dialogue, and he adds dynamic page layouts, vivid character designs, and evocative colors to reinvent the tale.

This is a great introduction to the Taoist philosophy of Zhuangzi, as rendered by Taiwanese cartoonist Tsai. These short comic strips are instantly inviting, and rendered in an animated, funny style that feels effortless. Tsai emphasizes the humor and subversive qualities of the original text, but his approach is reverent, too, as he lays out Zhuangzi’s deep lessons on each page.

This hefty collection of Ray Bradbury adaptations is also a great representation of a beloved era of American comic books. These 1950’s stories were first published by EC comics in their titles Tales from the Crypt, Weird Science, and more, which featured short (6-8 page) stories illustrated by some of the best cartoonists of the day: Wallace Wood, Jack Davis, B. Krigstein, among others. Many were written by Al Feldstein, who also adapted the Bradbury fantasy and science fiction stories reprinted here. They’re well-crafted stories with ornate art; you can see the loving care invested by the creators. The comic books were originally printed in garish color (which has its charms), but the black and white reproductions in this volume show off the meticulous brushwork and unique styles of the artists. 

Despite a somewhat daunting front cover, this is a most engaging book.

It can be misleading to divorce an understanding of Greek comedy from that of tragedy. Both were performed on specific occasions and engaged their audiences through complementary approaches to dramatic performance.

Kenneth Dover, knighted in 1977 for ‘services to scholarship’, was a most inspiring of teachers and a writer on all aspects of the ancient world, never more so than this book on Aristophanes.

Here he confronts all aspects of Old Comedy from a playwright who, through a mixture of farce and fantasy, created an unparalleled portrait of daily life in ancient Athens, but whose works remained fully untranslated and unperformed in English right up to the later years of the 20th Century.

Dover shirks neither political impetus, nor the ribaldry, blatant sexism, and often wildly obscene behaviour of the characters.

‘Comedy’ is a Greek word, and there’s no better place to experience Greek humour than in Aristophanes’ plays. He never shies away from transgressive material and would probably send any twenty-first-century ‘celebrity’ straight to the libel courts—no topic or personality is off-limits, and there are 204 terms for genitalia in his surviving work, plus 190 for sex! Three fantastic plays are translated in Alan Sommerstein’s readable translation: The Acharnians, where an ordinary Athenian, Dicaeopolis (Mr. Just City), defeats the political establishment to enjoy a life of peace, food, alcohol, and sex; The Clouds, a stinging satire of philosophers and ‘modern’ education that includes a brilliant contest between Wrong and Right (spoiler alert—Wrong wins!); and Lysistrata, where the heroine puts an end to the war by organizing a sex strike, with all the hilarious consequence that entails.

The participants at a drinking party disclose their ideas about love: a doctor is a bit pompous, Aristophanes tells a wacky pseudo-myth, Socrates unveils ‘the truth about love,’ which has supposedly been revealed to him by a priestess. "Plato was mad," an eminent scholar told me once. "But he was a genius." "Maybe, but a mad genius." Well, the Platonic theory of love does seem miles from our own experience, but there are extraordinary insights along the way—into the creative impulse, sexuality, and human psychology. It may have influenced Freud. It is also a literary treat, with details that you would expect more in a novel than a work of philosophy. And after Socrates seems to have wrapped things up, Alcibiades crashes in tipsy …

Harrison Burns is haunted by the twenty-year-old unsolved murder of teenager Winifred Utley. His firsthand knowledge of what happened the night of Winifred’s death would, if revealed, ruin Constant Bradley, his boarding school friend whose prominent family would do anything to keep their dark secrets hidden. What Burns does with his well-guarded information is the catalyst for a story inspired by a real-life politically powerful family and their close ties to a true 1975 murder.

I judge the richness of a novel by asking two questions: Will I remember this story for years to come, and will I read other books written by this author? A Season in Purgatory gets a thumbs-up on both counts. Thirty years after my first read, this novel still sits on my bookshelf.  

This book was an interesting challenge to my personal view of what happens right after death. It was really amazing the way the author wove Biblical characters into a story populated with modern and historical people, many of whom had forgotten who they really are. 

While The Blue Tower did not change my mind about whether or not purgatory is real, it was a fun, clean, ride with a strong theme of redemption.

Long after I began studying Italian, I resisted reading Italy’s greatest poet. His classic book seemed too daunting, too distant, too dull. Then, an Italian teacher gave me the first adaptation of the La Divina Commedia that she had read as a girl: a vintage Italian Walt Disney comic book featuring Mickey Mouse (Topolino in Italian) as Dante with Minnie Mouse as his adored Beatrice.   

I was so intrigued that I bought an English translation of the Divine Comedy—several, although I’m partial to John Ciardi’s. My unanticipated reaction: Wow! Like modern readers ensnared by the wizardly world of Harry Potter, I skidded into a fully imagined alternate world. An action-packed, high-adrenalin, breath-taking, rip-roaring yarn leaped off the pages into vivid, writhing, pulsating life. If you love action-packed tales and also seek insights into the Italian soul, read The Inferno. Purgatorio and Paradiso are optional.