Fans pick 100 books like And in the Vienna Woods the Trees Remain

The first of Moberg’s 4-volume saga of Swedish immigrants, this book is so thoroughly researched that he invented a term, calling them “documentary novels.” The family in the story are farmers from a poor, remote parish in Sweden whose lives are constricted by both the church and the state. This reflects the painful realities of Europe in 1850, where almost everyone was poor, rural, oppressed, and completely unprepared for the journey ahead of them. Whether you read Moberg’s Emigrant Novels for the intense personal drama or for more understanding of why people leave their homelands, you will find these stories deeply emotional and insightful.

This is an unusual crime story set in Copenhagen, Denmark. It caused a sensation when it was published in 1992. The main character Smilla Jaspersen is a half Inuit scientist from Greenland, lonely and homesick in the big city. The death of an Inuit boy pulls her into a complex web of crime exposing Denmark’s complicated relationship with its protectorate Greenland. The title refers to the Inuit people’s understanding of their wintry habitat, and is a reminder of the threat to traditional lifestyles of many indigenous people. A thriller, but so much more. 

This little book is a gem that I just read for the first time recently. It’s the kind of book I would read with a pencil nearby for there are gems here, of descriptive prowess and of wisdom. It is the story of a grandmother and her young granddaughter alone on a remote Finnish island spending the summer at their little cottage as they always do. The days are long, sleepy, and lush with swims in the sea, berry collecting, and conversations between an inquisitive seven-year-old and her grandmother. The grandmother has a way of guiding the child in and out of life’s daily progress that is soft and wry. But odd and intrusive things happen as well. The landscape begins to change. The rocky island has boundaries, the sea makes itself known. You could read this book to a seven-year-old, or read it to yourself, and when you are… show more.

I have a lot of respect for an animal that is so mysterious and remains so despite years of research and curiosity, and I really appreciate this in-depth commitment to showcasing an animal most people get the heeby jeebies about.

The interweaving of personal narrative and deep dives into the realm of eels was a nice combination, catching a glimpse into how one’s early relationship to specific parts of their surrounding natural world can influence so much beyond that.

I’m a big fan of cheerleading for the underdogs of the animal kingdom, the ones we think are scary or ugly or gross—they’re usually fascinating and not well understood, and when it comes to eels, I recommend pushing aside any ick factor and delving into the mysteries they’ve been keeping for millennia. 

Kingsley’s The New Odyssey is a journalistic account of what became known during the 2015-2016 period as “Europe’s Refugee Crisis.” It brings a human face to the million or so refugees— a significant number of whom were from Syria, Afghanistan, and Iraq— who sought asylum in Europe by way of various irregular Mediterranean routes. By embedding himself with the refugees at the center of his book, Kingsley gives an intimate portrait of the reasons Europe became a destination for these refugees and of the violence and hardships they are subjected to at the hands of an unwelcoming Europe. The New Odyssey also provides an in-depth and nuanced portrait of the smugglers who, while by no means idealized in the book, are an easy scapegoat in European attempts to deflect responsibility for the suffering and death of migrants taking the irregular Mediterranean routes. Kingsley’s narrative balances a broad overview of the… show more.

This is one of my all-time favorite children’s WW2 books set on America’s home front. The year is 1944, and Lily is off to spend another magical summer in Rockaway. The beach and the boardwalk, the swimming and fishing, and her friend Margaret are waiting. But the summer soon begins to fall apart. Margaret and her family are leaving for a town in Michigan where her father has a job in a wartime factory. And her own father reveals that he is about to work as an engineer for the army somewhere in Europe.

Loneliness sets in until Lily meets an orphaned boy named Albert, a Hungarian refugee who is spending the summer with relatives. Albert’s parents have been taken by the Nazis, and his sister, Ruth, is left behind in France. Lily and Albert have much to learn from each other, and much to share. This book tells a… show more.

Ruta Sepetys writes historical fiction like no one else. All her books are wonderful, however, this one is my favorite. Not only does she write about a little-known event in history, she does it masterfully with short chapters told from four distinct points of view, doling out backstory as if it is a treat rather than something a reader must endure. Yes, the story is fascinating, but it is her craft that makes me reread it with a highlighter in hand. 

Although I love all her novels, this one is the easiest to love and recommend (and it is beautifully translated).

Anna Seghers hated the idea of “art & politics,” as though they were separable entities to be glued together. Seghers—Jewish, Communist, especially the latter—wrote this book quite literally on the run from the Nazis, in cafés in France, on ships in the Atlantic, and in Mexico, where she lived in exile during the war. But you would never know it; it is as fluidly written as anything she ever wrote. In general, Seghers thrived in high tension situations.

It is a detective story, love story, wartime journalism, yet very little happens. Kafka’s Castle minus the parables and mysticism. It is also one of the deepest reflections on the nature of writing and narrative I know. 

During WW2 members of the Resistance guided Allied service personnel -- and others, including compromised agents, resisters, and Jews -- escaping from occupied France along what were known as escape or evasion lines, the majority leading over the Pyrenees to safety. In this book, BBC broadcaster Edward Stourton walks one of those ‘cruel crossings’, the Chemin de la Liberté, while at the same time telling the stories of those escaping and the courageous men and women who helped them, drawing on interviews with some of the last remaining survivors. It makes for compelling reading.

“I must be good; I must be good.” Willie Beech’s mother drummed the mantra into him when he left home as an evacuee. My heart went out to the boy from the first page, where it is clear he had been maltreated, neglected, and indoctrinated with a cruel sense of godliness in the guise of caring.

His curmudgeonly evacuation host, Tom Oakley, is the kind of person whose stern manner I would have feared as a child but who hides a kind heart and a strong sense of fair play. This story is one of my all-time favorites.