92 books like Missed Translations

Neel Patel and I grew up in similar parts of the Midwest, are around the same age, and are both Gujarati, so when I read this novel, I felt so seen. He deftly covers a young man’s journey of coming out to his traditional family, while also sharing the perspective of the mother discovering who her son really is, but this book has many more layers beyond those. The little details that Patel seamlessly weaves throughout the novel including how the family interacts with one another and how the main character’s childhood is described reminded me of my own family and upbringing. Patel is pushing the boundaries on what Indian American authors are writing, and this story was so satisfying to read. 

My husband is a native Bostonian, so when I discovered this novel takes place in the historic Back Bay neighborhood of the city, I was immediately intrigued.

The story follows Meena Dave, an orphan who has inherited an apartment from a woman she has never met. As she attempts to figure out their connection, she forms an unexpected friendship with a trio of meddling aunties who also live in the building and have been in each other’s lives since birth.

Through these women, Meena learns not just of her past, but of the importance of community, culture, and the sacrifices of sisterhood. 

I was in my forties, the first time I ever read a novel about a Gujarati American family, and this was the one. I was on a beach in Mexico, experiencing for the first time what it felt like to see my comfort foods, my family’s mannerisms, and my culture’s ideologies represented in a book. The story is told from the perspective of three generations of women in a family and it made me think about my own relationships with my mother and grandmother, and what secrets each of them may be carrying because nothing is ever as simple as it seems. 

Like me, the author is a former lawyer, so I knew I had to read her book, and it did not disappoint. Judge pushes the boundaries of what we have traditionally seen from Indian American authors and tells a complex story of how a single day can forever change one’s path. Told from multiple perspectives, her characters break stereotypes and make some questionable decisions, but beneath it all are still rooted in love and loyalty to their family. Judge gracefully tackles topics like addiction, filial piety, and divorce, subjects that are not often discussed openly in the Indian community. This one was both heart-wrenching and hopeful.

In a weaving of revelatory family secrets and cultural insights, Prachi Gupta helps us to understand not only how our personal lives are truly political, but also how politics are used as a tool to divide us.

In this beautifully crafted part memoir, part theory, part personal chronicle, we are able to see how stereotypes in the U.S. have been created to divide and conquer entire communities of marginalized folks, leaving families in shambles along the way.

A key takeaway I gathered was the anti-Black racism embedded in the model minority myth and the ways in which racism and its different iterations, in many ways, hurts both the oppressed and the people it’s positioned to privilege. 

Hard to imagine a memoir about suicide can be entertaining but, honestly, it was.

Sean Dietrich’s father shot himself when Sean was a child. The book is a roller-coaster ride of emotions Sean experiences as he comes to terms with that event. While the backdrop of the story is that sad beginning, the details of Sean’s life lived along the way are often funny.

His description of math and why he hates it is downright hilarious: “Math is one of those things the good Lord allowed on this earth to remind mankind that the devil is real,” that paragraph begins. Sean details his journey from being a high school dropout to becoming an award-winning, hugely popular author and columnist with brute honesty, a distinctly Southern perspective, and a wit that puts him right up there with Will Rogers.

From the country’s capital, the city’s journalists translated political power and social news – as well as a thriving social scene. They covered stories that were shared across the country. A mix of men and women, big names and freelancers, these journalists reveals behind-the-scenes reporting and relationships. The stories reveal how and why news is made. These watchdogs of government were often intertwined with politicians professionally and sometimes personally. This book offers a helpful understanding of Washington, D.C. journalism – and is highly entertaining.

The book takes place beginning in the 1960s – a time of economic strength and cultural change. An increasing number of young, educated women entered the workforce, yet the newspaper help wanted ads were segregated by gender and the discrimination was common. In the midst of this time, Lynn Povich was hired at Newsweek, renowned for its strong coverage of civil rights and the changing social mores. But in reality, the job was a career dead end. Women researchers only occasionally became reporters, very rarely writers, and never editors. The limitations for women journalists were obvious.

Then in March 1970, Newsweek published a cover story about the Women’s Liberation Movement called “Women in Revolt”. It was at the time that more than 40 Newsweek women charged the magazine with employment discrimination. Povich was one of the plaintiffs. In the book, Povich details the lives of several lawsuit participants. She… show more.

I promised my publisher, who edited Kapuscinski, a book as elemental, pure, and wild as Kapuscinski's seminal account of the Angolan independence struggle in 1975.

Though I’m not sure I succeeded, Breakup is that book.

I was inspired by this classic of reportage for its simple and profound observations of the city, and countryside, trying to make sense of the chaos and what Angolans, in Portuguese, called confusão.

Without Reservations gave me hope following the death of my beloved husband of 37 years. Living with his unique and nontraditional worldview, I’d grown into and inhabited a wider, less conventional way of being than my suburban middle-class upbringing had prepared me for. But once he was gone, what and who was I going to be? Steinbach’s travelogue goes to many of the places my husband and I traveled in England and Europe, and that brought reminiscences of great pleasure. But it was her inner journeying in search of her soul that gave me the courage to embark on the inner travels toward self-discovery and the independence I faced in a newly widowed existence.