100 books like Literature or Life

This novel left me feeling both teary-eyed and ennobled. Superficially, it is about two French sisters living through the Nazi occupation of France during World War II. At its root, however, Hannah deconstructs the essence of survival.

I loved how her characters frame the book’s cosmic questions: What would you do to survive? What compromises would you make? Is it better to fight back aggressively or resist passively? The sisters are of different temperaments and personalities. Each answers these questions differently, painfully. I found myself haunted by these themes long after I put The Nightingale back on the shelf. You will, too.

If I didn’t know this was a true story, I would have dismissed Unbroken as some overblown Rambo novel. But it is true, and enthralling, and that’s what kept me turning pages.

Louis Zamperini, a 1936 American Olympian turned World War II Air Corp navigator, was shot down and captured by the Japanese. Because of his fame, Japanese guards singled him out for especially harsh treatment. Zamperini’s torment made me angry; his tenacity made me proud. Post-war trauma drove him to the bottle, as with so many veterans. That he overcame spiraling alcoholism through his renewed Christian faith makes for an inspiring story and gives fresh meaning to the very word “survivor.”

I first read Slaughterhouse-Five as a callow college student, concluding with the certainty of youth that this was a brilliant but weird amalgam of dark humor and sci-fi wrapped inside an autobiographical anti-war screed. However, my real ‘duh’ moment came after rereading the book decades later.

The opening line, “Listen: Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time” – tells you everything you need to know: It’s about PTSD, written from the inside looking out. Like Billy Pilgrim, I could see myself time-jumping and being abducted by aliens to escape the trauma of war. Interestingly, the term “PTSD,” the acronym for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, had not entered our lexicon when Vonnegut wrote Slaughterhouse Five in the 1960s. Poignant and personal, it's still a brilliant amalgam of dark humor and sci-fi. 

An indelible scene: Several Auschwitz prisoners clear rubble from a dark, bombed-out basement. It’s a blisteringly hot August 1944. There is no drinkable water, none. While “hunger exhausts, thirst enrages.” Primo Levi spots a section of broken pipe against a far wall with a spigot near the floor. It holds perhaps a quart of water. He can easily drink it all himself. Or should he share with his best mate? Or with the entire work crew? (Read the book to find out.)

No one writes of the dilemmas of survival more cogently than Primo Levi. A chemist by training, Levi melds a scientist’s precision with spare, insightful writing to show how the prisoner pecking order in Auschwitz meant the difference between death and survival, between the drowned and the saved. 

During August 1944, Joe Mower’s P-38 was shot down, and Nazi forces sent him to Buchenwald—the infamous work camp where tens of thousands died of cruelty, medical experiments, and starvation. It’s a story of survival in the worst of situations.

I like this book because it shows in an exciting and engaging way, that a war is not over, just because it is declared to be over. For many survivors, such as Ruth Mendenberg, it is the beginning of a new war in which they fight to re-establish their identity and their right to a place to call home once again.

Block 46 features themes that are close to my heart, along with two strong, determined female leads and a thought-provoking plot.

A true-crime writer and criminal profiler join forces to investigate two murders that may be linked to Buchenwald concentration camp – an example of journalists not always investigating on their own.

I don’t usually read Holocaust fiction (only the true survivor stories), but Johana Gustawson has taken one of the darkest times in human history and woven it seamlessly and sensitively into a contemporary serial-killer crime novel.

Block 46 is well-researched, very dark, and very twisty, featuring a strong mix of past and present, and the descriptions of the concentration camp are harrowing and realistically portrayed.

Back in the late ‘80s, I was at a small gathering of daughters of Holocaust survivors and next to me sat Elizabeth Rosner. As we each said something about our family’s history, Liz read a poem about her survivor father that vibrated with such resonance with me, and I knew I was in the presence of a gifted writer. Rosner went on to publish poetry and novels, and in this work of non-fiction that is lyrically and evocatively written, she confronts personal history and its aftermath while also exploring similar legacies of descendants of other atrocities that have left their multigenerational impact. Her “Alphabet of Inadequate Language” is alone worth the price of admission.

First published in 1952, this remains an epic tale of an SOE secret agent in France – Squadron Leader Forest Frederick Edward Yeo-Thomas. Yeo-Thomas had worked in France before the war and spoke fluent French. When World War Two broke out, he joined the RAF and was later recruited by SOE. He parachuted a number of times into France to help establish the resistance there and was eventually captured, imprisoned, and brutally tortured. Miraculously, he escaped from Buchenwald Concentration Camp and found his way back into Allied hands. He survived the war.

Multi-layered portrayals, and an absorbing, beautifully penned story shine through Sharon Maas’s The Soldier’s Girl, a novel at once heartbreaking and inspiring.

The protagonist, Sibyl Lake, works as a spy for the French Resistance in the Nazi-annexed region of Alsace. Two men vie for her affection: Jacques, her childhood sweetheart, now a Resistance fighter, and Wolfgang, a German officer and the target of her espionage mission.

Sibyl’s courage, identity, and very soul are forced to the brink as she fights for her beloved land, clutched in Germany’s oppressive control. Maas’s unforgettable characters reveal their humanity – through love and loss – and will abide in the reader’s heart long after the final page.