84 books like A Test of Wills

The author held me spellbound as she skilfully unpacked the remarkable story of Louis Zamperini, who survived a plane crash at sea only to be taken prisoner by the Japanese.

Zamperini’s life leapt from the page and swept me along a chilling pathway that bore witness to his physical and inner strength. Hillenbrand held me riveted to the last page of this remarkable true story.

I’ve pressed copies of Pat Barker’s trilogy into the hands of more friends than I can count!

Set during the First World War, the books didn’t transport me to the battlefields of France as I’d expected, but onto a hospital ward for shell shock victims and into the fictionalized life of an amazing therapist who dedicated himself to their humane treatment.

I’d done a lot of research on the subject for a documentary film and knew about the extreme, sometimes horrific treatment these men received. So I was blown away to learn that there was at least one doctor who treated them compassionately, encouraging them to heal their psychic wounds by speaking about what they’d witnessed.

Everything about these novels – the crushing psychological impact of war on the minds of men and the healing power of remembering – inspired me to explore similar themes in my own fiction.

When I first read this book, I was somewhat mystified by what the fuss was all about. All I could see was a story of a group of dissolute and disillusioned expats living a pointless life of pettiness and drinking. However, as I separately learned more about Hemingway and his writing style, I was drawn back to the book, and on subsequent readings, I was able to discern more in the characters and the plot than was apparent in my first reading.

The protagonist Jake Barnes, impotent because his penis appears to have been shot off as a result of a wound in World War I, is further emotionally damaged, possibly with PTSD from his war experiences and with a cynicism and sadness that engage the reader’s attention. 

There is a refreshing versatility to the stories in this collection, which touch upon everything from soldiers on the front lines in Iraq, readjustment to the American home front, and a civilian foreign service officer getting stymied at every attempt at humanitarian aid. There is humor, irony, and gutting realism on every page, and the many perspectives offer the insights you hope for in a National Book Award-winning piece of fiction. 

There’s a reason this book is called Slippery Creatures (aside from all the Shakespeare references), and it’s not because of straightforward, upright, just-a-bit-stroppy ex-soldier Will Darling.

Having accidentally inherited a highly sought-after secret along with his uncle’s bookstore, he’s practically surrounded by slippery creatures, not least of whom is Kim, a helpful aristocrat with unclear intentions, a shady past, a delightful fiancée, and an awful lot of baggage.

I became so invested in their relationship that I actually looked into whether Will would be eligible to be drafted in WWII. And no matter how often I re-read it, I laugh whenever I get to certain little jokes or witty exchanges. It’s funny, clever, touching, and so engaging.

Chris, a shell-shocked soldier who suffers from amnesia, returns from the front expecting life to be as he remembered. But he’s lost fifteen years of his memory and doesn’t recognise his wife Kitty, is horrified by how his cousin Jenny has aged, and longs only for Margaret, the girl he loved all those years ago. Despairing for his sanity, Kitty and Jenny summon Margaret, sure he’ll come to his senses when he sees her, only to find that he still adores her, dowdy, careworn, and poor as she is. The war is only glancingly mentioned here but its loss and damage aches between the lines. Told by Jenny, who loves Chris but starts to see Kitty in a new light, the dreadful snobbishness of the times is laid clear. The Return of the Soldier is a brief novel, romantic and witty, moving and bitter – I devoured it in one… show more.

I reread this book once a decade, and each time, I get more out of it. It follows a man named Larry Darrell who searches for a deeper meaning to life—spiritual enlightenment.

It’s a wonderful book, and I am sure it has inspired others to look a little deeper into what they hold important. I empathized with Larry’s disenchantment with the “good” life, and I felt, at times, I could glimpse his elusive goal within Larry's story.

The fact that it entailed giving up all possessions and hitting the road seemed perfect to me.

This book is one of my favorite novels, featuring unforgettable descriptive passages. Its plot is simple, focused on the experiences of an art conservator traumatized by his experiences in World War I. During his brief stay in the Yorkshire village of Oxgodby, an ancient church is both his workplace and home.

The building becomes a potent, if mute, character in the story. The evocations of rural life are beautiful, though I was captivated by the gradual uncovering of the medieval fresco depicting the Last Judgement. These slow revelations seem to mirror the central character’s search for meaning as he rebuilds his own life. I have returned to this moving, poetic work again and again.

Daniel is a survivor of the First World War who mourns the death of his best friend Frederic and is haunted by disturbing visions of him and flashes of battle. Returning to Cornwall, Daniel’s mother has died so he moves in with Mary, an old woman. He also reconnects with Felicia, Frederic’s sister who is still living in the large family house Daniel visited as a child. The atmosphere of the book is vivid, oppressive, and conveys the horrors of war in a human, sympathetic context. Passages from the book remain vivid in my mind several years after reading it and the whole story has a filmic quality and beautiful Cornish landscapes

The aftermath of the Great War for wounded and shattered soldiers is carefully examined in this comparative study of two belligerent nations. The great paradox recorded here is how British veterans struggled on the margins of their society, denied legal rights and employment support, while, through state programs, German disabled veterans were more likely reintegrated into their economy. “Disabled veterans,” Cohen concludes in this fascinating study, “were the Great War’s conspicuous legacy.” Tragically, the same might be said of subsequent major armed conflicts. What I got from this book is the absolute importance of decisions following the Great War in shaping the indifference and support toward veterans over the twentieth century and into the twenty-first.