100 books like A Defence of Nihilism

This anthology is widely acknowledged to be a classic in the field.

It was first published in 1981 at which time there were few professional philosophers who took much interest in the meaning of life.

It has since been updated by Steven Cahn so as to include essays on Buddhism and Confucianism and essays on death (and the possible tedium of immortality) by Thomas Nagel, Bernard Williams, John Martin Fischer, Samuel Scheffler, Harry G. Frankfurt, and Susan Wolf.

That the question of the meaning of life is now more widely discussed by philosophers – rather than being dismissed as a meaningless question – may in some measure be due to this anthology.

In philosophy that focuses upon the meaning of life it is not long before one comes across the name of Joshua Seachris.

He wrote the introduction to this book and each of his fellow editors introduce their respective sections.

Thaddeus Metz introduces ‘Understanding the Question of Life’s Meaning’; John Cottingham introduces ‘What Does God have to do with the meaning of life?’; Garrett Thomson introduces ‘The Loss of Meaning in a World without God’; Erik J. Wielenberg introduces ‘Finding Meaning in a World without God’; and John Martin Fischer introduces ‘The Meaning of Life and the Way Life Ends: Death Futility and Hope’. 

Each section consists of about six different essays, from authors as diverse as Bertrand Russell, C.S. Lewis, and Leo Tolstoy.

 This book provides short summaries of the views of about one hundred philosophers of the twentieth and twentieth-first centuries.

Only one earlier philosopher is included, “the most prominent pessimist of the entire western philosophical tradition,” Arthur Schopenhauer.

One of the interesting features of the book – partly because it has rarely been attempted – is a taxonomy of the different answers that have been given to the question.

The author explains the views of Schopenhauer, Kierkegaard, Herman Melville, Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, Nietzsche, William James, Proust, Wittgenstein, and Camus. 

He reminds us that: “What we find in these writers’ work is not abstract theories: we find actual people, breathing, vulnerable individuals who when they reflect on life and death also reflect on their own living and dying.”

The book ends not with a grand conclusion but with a joke which, given that life is sometimes viewed as an ‘awful joke’, may be quite appropriate.

I’ll leave it to you to decide whether the joke is good or bad.

Nausea does not rely on the extreme or outlandish scenarios of science fiction to explore philosophical themes. Rather, this novel is about a person’s growing malaise over his conscious relationship to objects, people, and ultimately himself. It reaches into some very fundamental aspects of our relationship to the world, and asks you to look at the mere structure of existence after all particularities (names, shapes, colors, history, etc.) are wiped away, and then asks you how you feel about it. Through an existentialist lens, it also explores certain political questions. And for those more technically interested in philosophy, the novel does a better job of showing existentialism’s relationship to phenomenology than many academic papers. 

Released in the early ‘90s, Frisk was adapted into a film in the mid-90s by Todd Verow. Both received mixed reviews due its transgressive content about madness and bizarre sexual aesthetic. Frisk leaves little to the imagination as the narrator explores taboo photography and sexual deviance while traveling through Holland. Critics and fans found this breakthrough novel deeply polarizing because it involves a gay character obsessed with annihilation. Nevertheless, the overall theme is about victimization, and a culture obsessed with objectification. Despite the novel’s punk prose and hypnotic pacing, there’s something to be said when humanity has a tendency to destroy what society deems perfect. Cooper definitely explores how human desire can become just as fanatical as a religious zealot. A must read for fans of cinematic gore.

Nietzsche was the master diagnostician of the challenge of living in a secular world, once God was dead. The Birth of Tragedy develops a powerful theory of culture, its necessity for human wellbeing, and how it works.

The basic assumption is that human life is lived on the surface, driven by a substratum of demonic instincts, nightmare fears, and a barbaric will to lust and sadism. Culture’s task is to transform these unconscious drives into harmonious and beautiful images that capture the mind and give an orderly direction to how humans conduct their lives.

But for culture to have that commanding power it needs to be founded on a fixed and primordial sacred site. Without that, the modern problems rise: nihilism, rancour, and depression.

Simenon is a master storyteller and father of the noir genre. He quit school as a teenager and never attended a writing program. Dirty Snow is filled with psychological insight and hard facts about life. The main character, Frank Friedmaier, is a brawny young man who lives in his mother’s brothel in France under German occupation. A horrible crime, along with heinous acts, are committed because he cares about nothing and does things without reason. His life is deprived of a father and that void quickly becomes occupied by whores that facilitate a man without optimism. Simenon vividly takes us on a trip into the mind of a creature that can be uncomfortable for a lot of people. This is yet another dark classic about an anti-hero challenged by the notion that he is a man like any other.

I speak Russian and spent several years working in the former USSR on cultural exchange exhibitions. I majored in Russian Language and Literature at Brown and have a Master’s in those subjects, also from Brown, and I love Turgenev even more than I love his great contemporaries, Tolstoy and Dostoevsky.

In this short novel, Turgenev speaks to political differences across generations, something pertinent to the American political scene now and to the tension between activism and domestic life. 

As a novelist, I’m also blown away by his ability to put so much into a very short piece of fiction. It’s helpful, but not essential, to have a bit of knowledge about pre-Revolutionary Russia, but like his masterful Sportsman’s Sketches, he is a genius at bringing characters, both real and imagined, to life.

Is there a madder moment of madness in all of literature than that of The Driver’s Seat’s protagonist Lise?

A firecracker of a novel (most editions come in under one hundred pages of breakneck-speed story), and yet a whole firework display of literary techniques (most startlingly a third chapter opening prolepsis – flashforward – to the suicidally-invited murder of Lise). It’s the technique itself that is the star. Is this satire, parody, comedy? Can comedy be so dark?

Spark noted both that this book was an existential ‘whydunnit?’ without feeling the need to provide us with anything so simplistic as a ‘why’, and also that it was her favourite of all her novels. There is no reason on Earth why it shouldn’t also be one of your favourites.