72 books like Confessions

I find this far and away the most readable and compelling account of what neuroscience has to say about the changes meditation can bring about in brain function and morphology. I love that it’s so well written and organized in a way my layperson’s non-scientist brain can happily track. So, this is the go-to handbook for a scientific take on Buddhist practice.

It presents all the juiciest material this meditator would like to know while succinctly summarizing the parts that might go over my head. A perfect introduction—and more than introduction. It comes with a feeling of deeply compassionate understanding of human nature, probably from Hanson’s years in practice and clinical psychology. 

Ah, it's still the best book on awakening! Despite its sublime title, this book is actually mostly about the ecstasy, with its multiple instances of “awakening porn”—alluring accounts of how someone, seemingly out of nowhere, while quietly washing the dishes or watering the garden, suddenly underwent a radical shift in perception and experience that opened up a whole new world.

Often, they say they don’t know how to speak of it, yet somehow do, in ways that send ripples and goosebumps through the body and skin of this reader. Handled with the deep kindness of Kornfield’s wise heart, they are never repetitive, always fresh, and collectively steer us through the author’s extensive commentary to understand what it would mean not just to awaken but to live an ever-deepening path of awakening.

This book changed my life. It showed me it was possible, and OK, to be a literary-minded youth and still embark on a spiritual journey that could lead who knew where. I have read it numerous times and am still caught every time by the gorgeous, clear, poetic writing and the spell-binding storytelling. I love the author’s reckoning with the hidden wisdom of his childhood in India and how far from that he strayed during his youth in England but then managed to reengage with it at a very deep level.

That opened up a profound journey into spirituality for him, recounted and observed by an acute literary sensibility and deep, informed intelligence. What it did for him, his book did for me, too. (The fact that Harvey later disavowed the guru he followed only intensifies the beauty of this critical phase of his journey.)

I go back to this again and again. Morinaga’s hilarious and frank take on his blundering attempts to stumble into Zen is irresistible.

The way he tracks his own arrogance, stubbornness, and misunderstandings as he tries to stand up to his austere master, by turns humiliated and scolded, then drinking up any faint praise, and just occasionally starting to open to the down-to-earth, kind but stern guidance his teacher is actually offering—all make for a book I love again and again, and don’t want to put down any time I pick it up. (I use it in Zen teaching frequently.)  And how he finally enters a deep, enlightened friendship with his master still moves me every time. It’s a timeless gem for me.

For most of us, the greatest enemy isn’t from without, but from within. This is true today and was just as true nearly two millennia ago when Saint Augustine of Hippo wrote his Confessions, the first autobiography. His struggles with sin and vice should be relatable to us all, especially his difficulty in abandoning his worldly desires. Would most of us be so brave as to abandon our wants for something far greater?

Like for Aristotle, this is no easy read, but Augustine must be credited with planting in the clearest and most dramatic way the central doubt: cannot we want and do something merely for the sake of the evil or wrong we would commit?

His story of the pear theft is bound to leave an impression on anyone, regardless of one’s religious background. Later Christian philosophers will try to get around Augustine’s doubts, with more or less success.

This is not only a beautifully written book, it is an important one. Why? Because it poses challenging questions about the promise of post-independence freedom for Algerian women through a collection of short stories written between 1959 and 1978. First published in French in 1980, the writing style is at once innovative, lyrical, and unsettling as Assia Djebar explores the condition of Algerian women across the pre-colonial, colonial and immediate post-colonial periods. The inspiration for the book is Eugène Delacroix’s 1834 painting of women in an Algerian harem because, as Djebar explains in the post-face, this picture leads her straight to the conundrum of 1970s Algeria: “What would Delacroix see if he entered into contemporary Algerian apartments?” And for her the depressing conclusion is that he would still find women locked up and shut away just as in the 1830s. One of the most significant voices to emerge from Algeria,… show more.

In this book, Werenfels explains how elite dynamics and tactics work in the Algerian political system and how they have led to the lack of significant political change since the country returned to the democratic process in 1995. Werenfels analyses the coping mechanisms of the highly opaque authoritarian elite in a shifting local and global environment building on evidence from extensive research. This book planted the seed of an idea for what the topic of my own book would be and how I wanted to structure it. 

Latefa Guemar’s powerful research on the Algerian Diaspora from a woman’s perspective shows to the world the terrible experiences of violence against women in the Algerian Black Decade of the 1990s.

This harrowing conflict forced women into exile via a broken European asylum system that failed, and still fails, women in so many ways.  Her work on diasporic networks of women’s groups and associations, inspired work we recently did together during Covid on Algeria diaspora activism.

The book’s beautiful and mesmerizing front cover, designed by one of our students, Ikram, was part of our arts-based training on Imagining the Future. I still get shivers when I see this.

Isabelle Eberhardt was born in 1877. She was “a crossdresser and sensualist, an experienced drug taker and a transgressor of boundaries”. Born in Switzerland, she crossed the Sahara Desert on horseback dressed as a male marabout, driven by a hunger for nomadic adventures, and for love. Isabelle’s evocative diaries are intense, beautifully written, self-centred and dramatic, occasionally very funny. She fell madly in love with the Sahara, was accused of being a spy, married a young Algerian soldier, and drowned in a desert flash flood at the age of 27. This book is about a short life that burned radiantly and the desiccated landscape that mirrored her intensity.