100 books like Purple Hibiscus

Having lived in poverty and forced to grow up fast due to the hardship of life, what makes this book tragic is that when Darling the child protagonist arrives in the US, the land she dreamed of, she misses ‘home’ and her dreams don’t come true. Recommended for the author's narrative verve and its general overview of Zimbabwe through the lens of the less privileged. The lesson for me was that material comfort does not guarantee happiness. 

I found myself involved with the characters and came to care for them. Moreover, I was struck by the author's desire to inspire readers to encourage discussion of Afghanistan and so keep the nation in the wider public consciousness.

The book certainly did that for me and is unforgettable, even though I read it over 20 years ago! It brought me alive and helped me understand issues facing those in Afghanistan and in my own community of Sindhis from my country of origin, Pakistan (formerly British India when my family had to flee following the partition of British India in 1947).

I think Atticus Finch represents the best qualities in a father and a man. If he is idealized, as many have said, it is an ideal all fathers can aspire to.

I first read this in high school, and I’m not sure I was mature enough to appreciate it. Later, it was a selection in the book discussion group I was in, where we focused less on the characters and more on the themes. When I read it a third time on my own, as an adult and father, I came to appreciate how Atticus Finch models the behavior he wants to see in the world, and that, I think, is the most effective form of fathering.

Salinger broke a lot of unspoken rules of fiction-writing–and thus life–with Catcher. It was emotionally cauterizing for me as a teenager while incessantly trying, and failing, at learning rules adults apparently didn’t want us to know.

I’m certain many of my contemporaries identified with Holden Caulfield’s stream-of-consciousness introspection as deeply as I did. And when I think back about it, I find myself once again in the grip of how it was: ferreting out how life works but getting no guidance from parents, teachers, or bosses, only the terror of making mistake after mistake until the world didn’t make sense any longer. Just as had happened to Holden, but at last, I understood I was not alone in my confusion.

I read this book in high school and it messed. Me. Up. So much so that I remember it in vivid detail to this day and credit it with my desire to write dysfunctional family fiction.

I’d be hard-pressed in real life (thank God) to find a family suffering from issues ranging from incestuous relationships through moral superiority and unforgiving rigidity up to greed and murder… all of which feels like the tip of the iceberg.

Reading the tale of a family who has gone so far off the rails will, if nothing else, make you appreciate the mundane problems your own family has. And isn’t that why we read this genre?

The experience in this book of orphaned siblings living in the streets of Lusaka is harrowing. The children’s narration of their experience is told in a matter-of-fact way which makes it more poignant because they have accepted their fate. A recommended read for anyone who likes stories about the dark side of growing up and feels like a good cry. This is because although Chimuka the protagonist is fictional; they are thousands of real Chimuka’s growing up on the streets. 

Paddy Clarke’s 10-year-old voice is compelling and funny.

He lives in Dublin, Ireland in the 1960s, and the way he tells his story is breathless, fast-paced, and naïve: a child’s mind, puzzled at life’s complexities. I wanted to have him round for tea and reassure him.

His narration is full of left turns and right turns and about turns as we follow – or try to follow - his train of thought. He doesn’t understand many of the things that happen at school, at home, and with the friends with whom he roams town, playing war games and making nuisances of themselves.

But, as his family begins to fracture, we weep for him.  

I read this book years ago but it’s always stayed with me.

The teenage protagonist, 13-year-old Jason from Worcestershire, England, has a stammer: a speech difficulty that haunts him and has him performing all kinds of manoeuvers to avoid saying certain sounds in class. This would only add embarrassment onto all the other embarrassments he feels as a boy going through puberty.

He calls his stammer ‘Hangman’. As well as this daily struggle, he realises his parents are arguing, and he gets bullied at school.

As a reader, I was touched by his resilience and doggedness. David Mitchell has admitted that the book is semi-autobiographical and this adds another layer of poignancy. 

The transatlantic slave trade was, historically, the most organized and sophisticated system of dependence, but it was not the only form of enslavement. In Africa, prior to it, and even proceeding it, were systems of bondage. This is the heart of Emecheta’s novel: set in the early 20th century, it tells the story of a young Igbo woman who loses her parents and is then sold into slavery. As characteristic of Emecheta, it is beautifully written and developed in characterization. Specifically, what I love about this novel is its perspective on the African female in situations that are physical, psychological, and cultural enslavement. 

This story, set in Nigeria, is a commentary on social economics and gender without sounding like one.

Fourteen-year-old Adunni wants an education to actualize her voice and make a difference but is seen as a commodity by her father and sold to be an old man's third wife. When tragedy hits her new household, she is backhandedly sold as a domestic servant.

I immediately fell in love with Adunni, savoring her simple but insightful descriptions. I identified with the grief she felt for her mother. Though heartbreaking at times, her determination was inspirational and encouraging as I continue on my own grief journey. She never loses hope and fights for what she wants for herself.

I felt the urge to applaud when I finished reading this book.