Fans pick 100 books like A Terrible Splendor

Dolores Haze is an oft-misrepresented character. I dislike the way Lolita is usually portrayed in a coquettish manner. I find Lolita to be one of the most tragic heroines in classic literature. This child is a manipulated and abused victim of a perverted narrator. Her mother is deeply complicated, too.

I love the complexity of all the characters and how their story arc evolves as the power dynamic shifts. It’s entertaining but also brings up disgust and concern for the heroine. I find myself rooting for her and hating the slimy narrator while at the same time appreciating Nabakov’s ability to build such fleshed-out characters and give us such a window into their minds.

I loved this book because of how raw and vulnerable Agassi was in sharing his insecurities and adversities during his time as a tennis pro. As a tennis pro myself, I completely related to Agassi sharing his experiences as a competitor and the internal challenges he faced mentally and emotionally.

There’s no doubt that sports have countless common threads that help us to succeed in life. When competing in tennis, you’re out there by yourself, alone with only your thoughts. Therefore, controlling your mindset and constantly striving for superior excellence is vital in giving yourself the chance for peak performance.

I also liked how he found fulfillment through personal growth and maturity in overcoming adversities which ultimately led him to have a deep love and appreciation of tennis, and finding the love of his life in marrying Steffi Graf.

This beautiful book is the catalogue of an art exhibition devoted to paintings and photographs that capture the world of tennis, demonstrating the close link between art and the sport. Indeed, many enthusiasts see tennis as an art in its own right and this book should convince any waverers. The gorgeous coloured and black and white illustrations range from late Victorian genre scenes of tennis as a social event including champagne, strawberries, and flirtation, on through the androgynous twenties and thirties and its development into the modern power game. Accompanying essays trace the game’s wider cultural influence. Here you will find above all the languor and elegance of social tennis and especially the centrality of women to it, from ladies playing in bustles and high heels to the Williams sisters in skin-tight miniskirts.

Finally, this is one for the fans, who are so important in sport. The blurb tells us, "For much of the past decade, William Skidelsky has not been able to stop thinking about Roger Federer, the greatest and most graceful player of all time. It’s a devotion that has been all-consuming." An obsession it certainly is and Skidellsky looks at it from all angles: his own emotional problems, the way the game of tennis has developed (not always for the better), and what Federer signifies as a sports and cultural icon. Why fans cared so passionately about Federer and more than about any other player tells us much about our culture of spectacle and consumption and our longing in a secular and cynical world for heroes to capture our imagination and to inspire.

The Irish writer Colm Toíbín is one of our greatest novelists.

The Magician, a fictional biography of the German writer Thomas Mann, is a madcap family epic. So immediate are Toíbín’s portraits of Mann, his wife, and his children that one thinks one knows them. But Toíbín also offers a brilliant portrait of Mann as a writer.

We get inside his mind as he writes about his unfulfilled erotic desires. But perhaps what is most compelling for me is Toíbín’s portrait of Germany in the 1930s. Mann fled Germany for Switzerland in 1933 when Hitler became Chancellor, and eventually moved to the U.S. He was one of the few ex-pat German writers to speak publicly against the Nazis.

What is most impressive is how Toíbín examines, through Mann, what made Germany susceptible to Nazism. I have not read it more subtly and more compellingly explained.  

Fadeout is the first book in Hansen’s Dave Brandstetter mysteries. The protagonist, an openly gay insurance investigator in 1970s California, is convinced that a man who has been reported dead is actually still alive, and he must hurry to find him. Another classic in the gay mystery canon, Fadeout is vividly noir, grittily honest, and rejects cliches and stereotypes in a way that is still shocking over fifty years later.

This was the first book by Alexis Hall I’ve read, and I fell in love with his writing. It’s witty and charming and perhaps a bit ridiculous at times. But that’s what makes it charming. Luc’s job is in danger unless he begins to get his life together. What job? He works for a nonprofit charity whose goal is to save the dung beetle—Coleoptera Research or Protection Project, or CRAPP. The solution? A fake boyfriend.

I love the large supporting cast this book has, each quirky enough to get their own story one day. Hall is a master of comedic writing, but more than that, I love that he can also write poignant moments. This book is one of my all-time favorites.

My first sexual experience after I moved to London in 1957 was with a slightly older man I met at one of the parties I got invited to after my book was published. When we got to his flat I knew enough to take my clothes off and lie down on the bed, but what was I supposed to do then? Clueless, I lay there like a stick of celery. “You’re not gay,” he kept repeating. “Yes I am,” I kept repeating, but didn’t know how to prove it.

Too many years later, in 1966, The Song of the Loon filled in the blanks of how gay men actually had sex. It’s very well-written explicit erotica, a backwoods fantasy about impossibly handsome masculine men living far from those city gays corrupted by shame and disappointment. Song is no quick potboiler. It’s a gay author’s well-realized attempt to bring to life… show more.

I'm a political junkie. And if you want Veep in book form, this is for you. Are Thom and Clay likable? Eventually, yes! Is the premise completely nuts? Totally, and I love it.

I am a huge sucker for enemies-to-lovers. And pining. And the public lens being trained on our MCs. And this one has it all. The banter, the chemistry, everything you want in a romance, plus the absurd US political system is like a cherry on top. 

This rare Black queer romance novel is a heartfelt exploration of friendship and second chances.

It doesn’t shy away from the complexities of maintaining relationships in the midst of grief, addressing head on one of the most difficult and underexplored aspects of loss. It’s a reminder that our past shapes us, but our present can redefine us, through the refreshing lens of Black queer characters just trying to figure out their lives.