100 books like Arcadia

I loved this book for its humanity and compassion, as well as its consideration of the impact of war on the individual combatants and those who choose to try and heal them.

Another wartime novel, this time World War One, it is set in Craiglockhart Hospital in Edinburgh, a real place, with many real, historical characters. Its central relationship is between the poet Siegried Sassoon and his psychiatrist, W. H. R Rivers, a British neurologist who experimented with treating post-traumatic stress disorder. Sassoon’s publicly stated reservations about war echo those of Rivers, who struggles with healing patients only to send them back to the front.

It raises questions about masculinity and manliness, honour and truth, and does so without seeming doctrinaire or didactic. It shows a society, as well as individuals, traumatized by war. I will read it and the subsequent novels in the trilogy again.

How much would you be willing to give up for fame and greatness?

By 1895, Henry James had written a number of all-time classics, including Daisy Miller and The Portrait of a Lady, but had never achieved the kind of commercial or popular success he thought he deserved. So in his fifties, he started writing for the theater, hoping to break through.

The Master begins with the London opening of his play Guy Domville, which turns out to be a flop, and follows James as he comes to terms with this failure, and all the other sacrifices he has to make – in his personal and sexual life, too – in order to become the writer he wants to be. 

Daphne is a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl when her brother’s university friend (and secret lover) comes to visit, the minor poet Cecil Valance, modelled loosely on Rupert Brooke.

Daphne develops a crush and Cecil drunkenly kisses her, an event that means little in itself, except that his death in the First World War puts everything he did in his short life under the intense microscope of fame. As the novel shifts to subsequent generations, that brief visit starts to mean many different things to different people.

Hollinghurst explores the way that secrets, about love, and money, and sexuality, change shape over time. The events of our youth seem more vivid and real than anything that comes later, but that doesn’t mean we understand them better – or even that what really happened matters in comparison to how we make use of those memories. A beautiful book. 

Simone de Beauvoir met Nelson Algren in Chicago in 1947.

A couple of years later, his novel The Man with the Golden Arm won the National Book Award, and a few years after that De Beauvoir won the prestigious Prix Goncourt for her novel The Mandarins, which featured a character based on Algren. They became famous literary lovers, involved in a complicated triangle with De Beauvoir’s long-time partner Sartre.

But Cowie’s novel brings to life the ordinary intimacies and misunderstandings of their love affair – the title comes from de Beauvoir’s confusion about the time difference between Paris and Chicago. Caught up in the details of day-to-day life, people, even brilliant writers, don’t always have the time or vision to make real decisions about how they want to live, or who they want to love. It’s a brilliant book. 

Oslo is a theatrical rendering of the behind-the-scenes negotiations that led to the Oslo Accords in 1993.

This Tony-Award-winning play takes a perhaps unreasonably optimistic view of potential peace. Nor will reading (or better yet, seeing) this play satisfy a serious researcher’s desire for historic detail. But it lays out the emotional stakes with humanity and humor, not qualities one usually dares to associate with the conflict in the Middle East.

Another excellent book about plot and the importance of making sure you have a good one. The difference between a good plot and a great plot is a bestseller. If you want your story’s plot to speak of mastery, do not miss out on reading this insightful book. Add it to your personal library for good measure. It’s always a good idea to have it there, so you can reference it in the future even after finishing it.

After reading this book, I came away with a hard truth. Dreaming alone is not enough.

In this book, we see, in the most poignant, painful terms, what happens to dreams when situations do not allow them to grow and when people are not helped to plan in ways that can make dreams come true. Dreams must be “codified” to workable plans or, like raisins in the sun, they simply dry up.

Not all archival work entails Indian Jones-style quests for hidden treasures; Steggle’s book—written at a crucial point when digital databases such as Early English Books Online and Google Books were accessible but rarely utilised to their maximum capabilities—proved how much crucial knowledge is hiding in plain sight. Steggle used a variety of search strategies to solve cruxes and mysteries that have plagued theatre historians for centuries, recovering the subject matter of lost plays that scholars routinely ignored on account of their opaque titles and scant evidence.

If I asked you whether you fancied reading the entire history of British television from its beginnings on the BBC in the 1930s to its position today, you’d probably tell me to get lost.

But the evocative writing of Lez Cooke makes this a far more pleasurable experience than it otherwise ought to be. I guarantee you will be stimulated yet entertained as you are walked through the key creatives, technologies, dramas, and genres that captured the imaginations of millions of avid British telly addicts each decade. You will put down this book as an immediate expert in the field, guaranteed.

Sophocles’ play depicts Electra beautifully, from her bitter mourning for her dead father to her grim determination when she contemplates taking vengeance herself as she believes her brother Orestes is dead. The debate between Electra and her sister Chrysothemis over what they, as women, should do is a high point for me.

This edition features the Victorian translation of Jebb that matches the majesty of Sophocles’ play well and is enjoyable to read. Easterling’s introduction to the scholar’s career and approach is also fascinating.