Fans pick 100 books like A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

I am on a self-discovery journey, and each day, I discover more of why I am here on earth. The books I mentioned all have themes related to the human condition. I write to express what I understand. I love writing about characters and their journeys. I love all animals, and dogs are a great comfort. I’d like to see animal abuse come to an end in my lifetime. I write about people who have fallen from great heights and how saving animals and others in need saves them. We need to love more.

I fell in love with Italy the first time I visited as a graduate student. Later, as a professor spending extended periods there with my family, I began investigating Italy’s experience of World War II. I was inspired by the diary of Iris Origo, an Anglo-American who lived in rural Tuscany. She reported of civilians bombed by Allied aircraft and strafed by machine guns from the air—even after Italy had surrendered. In my quest to understand the relations between the Allies and Italian civilians, I came upon a trove of great wartime novels, many recently back in print, and I am eager to share my enthusiasm for them.

At the close of World War II, I was born into the peace and prosperity of mid-twentieth century America, but I longed to be transported to an earlier era and a simpler time. I grew up living in an apartment building in New York City, but my spiritual home was Central Park, which served as my wilderness. Clumps of bushes were my woods. Rock outcroppings were my mountains. Books like Heidi and Little House on the Prairie captured my imagination and warmed my heart. But when my beloved father died in my eleventh year, a shadow fell that changed the emotional landscape of my life. 

Mark Rennella has given students and professionals helpful advice about writing throughout his career, most recently as a writing coach for MBA candidates at Harvard Business School. Mark earned a PhD in American history from Brandeis University and has taught literature and American history at Harvard University, the University of Miami, and the University of Tours (France). Mark's books, articles, business case studies, and collaborative writing endeavors have garnered him critical praise from historians, academicians, and business leaders alike. His concept of the “one-idea rule” was included among HBR.org’s ten favorite management tips for 2022 and was featured more recently in Forbes. He currently works as an editor for Harvard Business Publishing.

I’m a novelist, essayist, and journalist who’s written extensively about the problems and consolations of faith, about belonging in and out of faith, and about the tribes of what I think of as the In Between. When you’re in between, you’re neither in it nor out of it, whatever “it” might be for you. You bear an “infinity of traces,” as the writer Antonio Gramsci called these formative influences. My first novel looks at these influences directly, while my second one looks at them indirectly. I’m late in the game with a third novel now—a detective story that investigates a murder along with these same themes. 

As someone who grew up way too fast (don’t we all!) I was an avid reader of books about out-of-the-ordinary young people, the more eccentric or challenged the better. Every day I saw acts of violence committed in my neighborhood but I also saw how much people can help each other in times of crisis. All the books on my list speak to this contradiction in human nature. If you have already read some of them, I hope you decide to revisit a few of them as I have. Creating this list has brought many memories to life and deepened my understanding of why I became a writer. 

Let me tell you a little about myself. I was born in Dublin, and being the daughter of a diplomat afforded me to experience different cultures. Since childhood my fascination with the unknown caused me to gravitate towards stories related to hauntings. I shared this interest with my maternal grandparents, who contributed to my education by telling me ghost stories (some true whilst others are fictional). Tales of haunted castles were my favorite, which is reflected in my book. In later life, my own experiences with the paranormal cemented the notion of the unexplained and the thin veil between us and those departed.

A writer friend asked me, "If you could write about anything you wanted, what would that be?"  I thought immediately of Sicily and then of women (and men) trying to break free from cultural definitions that have historically kept us in traditional roles of housewife, cook, and mother, or breadwinner and protector. Having choice and being able to carve one's path is paramount, a deeply held value for me, both as an individual woman and as a psychotherapist. The courage of some of my clients who have dared to follow their own paths, along with my challenge to steer my own path, were also inspirations for the books I chose. 

As a troubled teen who wasn’t raised in a traditional family environment, I had always gravitated toward books with transformative characters—underdogs who were lost or lost their way by accident and on purpose.

The genre never mattered to me as much as my ability to relate to struggling protagonists who needed to escape their situation or environment, regardless of what they had to do, right or wrong. Love them or loathe them, I learned something from each of them. I hope you enjoy their journeys as much as I have.

I started my academic life with two passions: listening to those I was researching and writing in ways that were accessible to all readers. I wasn’t willing to bow down to orthodoxies that would stifle my capacity to think and to write and make my way into new and emergent ideas and practices. Questions of ethics threaded their way through it all, not the kind of rule-based nonsense of university ethics committees, but ethics that enabled me to consider how matter matters and to re-think what we are in relation to each other and to the Earth.