100 books like Nazi Literature in the Americas

All that happens throughout most of this book is that a Nigerian grad student in psychiatry nightly wanders end-to-end the streets of New York City, observing. And yet I couldn’t put this book down, riveted by this angry mind on fire and the differences in the landscape he sees from the one I thought I knew so well.

Author Teju Cole is highly visual, as one would expect from one whose other job as he wrote this was as photography editor of the New York Times Magazine. But then, as you get to the ending of his narrator’s musings, as you feel you have a handle on this plotless novel, the trap is sprung so that you cannot but reevaluate everything that has come before. This book is a stunner!

What a breathtaking scope Tokarczuk gives us! This Polish novelist was new to me when I first picked this book up, but even though she won a Nobel Prize, I think she will be new to most U.S. readers.

This book begins as a meditation on travel and human movement, moving episodically through different fictional and historical plots, investigating sexualities, artificial humans, geographies, and the human compulsion not to sit still. But this just scratches the surface, as she has a kind of Garcia Márquez touch for identifying stories where bodies (both real and fake) exert their magic, even as the stories she tells are purportedly historical.

Did an 18th-century noblewoman during wartime smuggle a jar that contained Chopin’s heart in her undergarments? Tokarczuk answers: Is this so unbelievable? 

I love experiments in the novel form, and this book by the Czech Ourednik startled me from the first words of its opening, a deadpan sentence telling us that the Americans who died at Normandy in 1944 were unusually tall. What follows is an accounting of important and trivial happenings of a hundred years of war-riddled world history in roughly the same number of pages.

Throughout, we read random details, skipping from how often people bathed to psychologists’ recommendations about venting aggression through competitive sports to the changes in human lives occasioned by contraceptives and tear-off toilet paper. Every page is always the tongue-in-cheek narration of absurdities I couldn’t help reading aloud to whoever was nearby. No book is like this one, and maybe no other so profound.

I loved the brash daring of this novel by an unknown writer of my own generation that I first read in the manuscript. I don’t believe it has yet gotten its due. Sarah Falkner has taken the near-familiar twentieth-century mise en scène of the Alfred Hitchcock-ish animal thriller movie and created characters in starlet Kitty Dawson and her son Rory who create their own inventions with this space.

Kitty founds a big cat sanctuary, and Rory trains as a lion tamer and turns this into performance art. Throughout, I felt like I was in a live-action museum of Post-War American Psycho-Cinema, powered by Falkner’s mimicry of discourses–interviews, publicity releases, film theory, and memoir–and the blend of excitement for film, language, and compassion for animals and their magnificence.

A story about a biographer who pokes into the corners of a Nobel-winning author’s salacious life to write an exposé is juicy enough, but what happens when the latter uses the opportunity to write a counter-exposé on the former? Unstructured in plot and other novel-craft, this book is laden with pithy quotes on the writing life. The biographer and his subject are libidinous, adulterous, and self-absorbed, a testament to the fact that a writer has to be appreciated separately from their work. Also on display are the strategies employed by the publishing industry to keep the reputation and marketability of a once best-selling author alive, long after their effective shelf-life. 

A true storyteller, Orwell invites us into a world of harrowing poverty in which individuals rage against a changing modern society.

An excellently crafted novel; you can almost smell and touch the grime littered throughout this novel. What struck me most was the seamless plot and intriguing characters.

Extremely well-written, fast-paced, gripping, and full of twists and turns, this is a must-read. The finale is quite unexpected. A real old-fashioned page-turner you will probably read more than once in your lifetime.

I first read Stanislaw Lem’s The Futurological Congress in a literature of science fiction course as an undergrad around 1991 and I’ve reread it a bunch of times since then. Lem’s endlessly creative wordplay and brilliant satirical style have been major influences on all of my fiction, especially the Great American series. His novel might seem less like an overt haha comedy than the others I’ve listed here, but I still laugh every time I read it. Sample sentence: “Still, the sight of a man at your side crumpling to the floor under heavy fire is not among the most pleasant, even if it is the result of a simple misunderstanding, which ends with an exchange of diplomatic notes and official apologies.”

It’s impossible to talk about action-adventure thrillers without recommending something by Graham Greene. It could have been any one of his great novels, but I’ve settled on this book as one of his shortest and most easily accessible stories.

It’s quirky without being obscure, full of atmosphere and intrigue, and wonderfully witty in its portrayal of its central characters. For sheer panache, this book is hard to beat.

Another book with an episodic structure, The Confidence-Man concerns an assorted group of Mississippi steamboat passengers whose individual hypocrisies are confronted by the mysterious character of the title.

Melville’s ship of fools features a variety of types, some of whom are caricatures of American literary figures including Emerson, Hawthorne, and Poe. The book was published in 1857 on April Fool’s Day, an irony equal to the publication of Bram Stoker’s Dracula on Valentine’s Day, and a gesture that Wiseman, himself a great ironist, surely would appreciate.

Certainly, it is no surprise that Wiseman has referred to The Confidence-Man as his favorite novel. One might even find Melville’s elaborate prose style analogous to Wiseman’s careful editing and his ability to confront spectators with their own biases and preconceptions, as the eponymous confidence-man does in the book.

In my teenage years in the 1970s, I read science fiction voraciously. I loved the ideas and imaginativeness, but it was all rather serious stuff. So, I was delighted when I discovered Robert Sheckley, a rare humorist and absurdist in a largely serious genre. 

I reckon his best novel is this one. It tells the story of a rather dull civil servant who wins the grand prize in a galactic lottery. He is whisked across space and time to Galactic Central to receive his prize: a shape-shifting, talking device/creature. Unfortunately, there is no provision for returning home, so an absurd journey begins from galactic bureaucracy to bizarre alternative Earths and homes. Maybe.

In addition to this book, I recommend diving into any of Sheckley's short story collections.