100 books like Sister Stardust

I loved this book because it vividly illustrates how place can shape great art. I was familiar with the work of Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe before reading this beautifully-written memoir, but I was unaware of how their deeply-intertwined lives—including their loft homes—influenced their photography, poetry, and music.

My favorite parts are Smith’s descriptions of renovating their shared loft across from the famous Chelsea Hotel and, later, of their work to make Mapplethorpe’s Lower Manhattan loft space habitable. These sections capture how artists found beauty in New York’s neglected industrial buildings, demonstrating how the process of renovating a home and studio can open up possibilities in one’s creative practice.

Like pretty much every Taylor Swift song, this book made me feel big emotions.

Over the course of one summer in Italy, the main character, Elio, falls in love with a visiting scholar named Oliver. It’s a gay love story filled with all the tension, heat, and anguish that accompanies first love.

It brought me back to my own experiences of falling in love for the first time when every exchange and every gesture felt latent with meaning. 

This book comes out in May, and I devoured an advance copy in two awestruck sittings.

I was completely bowled over by the gorgeously evocative, lyrically taut writing. But the characters—two sisters from working-class Nantucket who are grappling with their mother’s deportation to Brazil—felt knowable, original, and unforgettable.

The summer they spend in this book is quite literally a cruel one as they grapple with their family’s separation. Yet somehow, Burnham manages to balance the intense reality of her character’s circumstances with dream-like sentences that capture the hidden beauty woven into everyday life.

Yes, this is a book with “Christmas” in the title. Yes, it mostly takes place in the winter, not the summer. But you can practically hear the main character shouting the lyrics from Cruel Summer’s bridge, “I love you ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard,” as she attempts to cling to the chosen family that has brought her comfort over the course of her twenties.

This is a book I’d read any time of year and one that carries the huge feelings and high-stakes drama of the best Taylor Swift songs. I loved it. 

Good writers of historical fiction blend layers of fact and fantasy together into an irresistible kaleidoscope. The very best of them are time travellers. And, that’s what Jane Johnson certain is… for her magical novel, set in the days of Sultan Moulay Ismail, sucks the reader back through centuries to a time when the Barbary Coast was a wild rumpus of a place – peppered with palaces and pirates, treasure, secrets, intrigue, and danger. I love this book because it’s not a dry historical read, so much as an intricate observation on the relationship between people, both elegant and deeply touching.

Far too many foreigners, myself included, have rocked up in Morocco and set to work recording versions of traditional tales for an outside audience. Almost all of them have realized that, what they imagined would be a straightforward exercise, was a near-impossible feat. One of the few European writers who have succeeded, and succeeded exceptionally well, is BBC reporter Richard Hamilton. As I read The Last Storytellers, I marvelled at how well he succeeded where so many others failed. The reason is that Hamilton has two qualities in abundance: patience and sensitivity. Reading the stories he presents takes me to the central square in Marrakech, Jma al Fna. I can see it, feel it, smell it, and, most importantly, I can hear the storytellers there recounting tales that pre-date A Thousand and One Nights.

The books I like about certain places tend to be written by people who have not been born and raised there. It’s because the author has detachment, which makes their sense of observation all the keener. But, best books about places seem to be by authors who have some ancestral connection to that place. It’s as though they’re attached to it through their genes. Saeida Rouass, was born in London to Moroccan parents. From the very first line on the very first page of her book Assembly of the Dead, you can feel she’s not English, but rather that she’s connected by some magical alchemy to Morocco, the land of her ancestors. Rouass is a dazzling writer, one who bridges East and West in the most exceptional and unusual way.

This book is about a young mother who takes her two daughters to Marrakech, Morocco in the 1960s so she can study Sufism, which, although not technically a “cult” does seem rather cult-like when described from the point of view of a five-year-old child who is watching her mother do strange ritual spinning to try to annihilate her ego.

You might remember the 1998 movie adaptation of this book starring Kate Winslet, but I think the book is better because of its dreamy, almost other-worldly descriptions of street life in Marrakech. This gem of a book is steeped in childlike wonder and longing and it will be over far too soon.

This book haunts me in a way that almost no other published work does. It’s like one of those movies we all have on a secret list – that we adore but can’t bear to ever watch again (like the Killing Fields or Fight Club). A memoir of almost unparalleled beauty and horror, it tells the true-life tale of the daughter of General Oufkir, who was put to death for attempted regicide. Malika and her five siblings were imprisoned for fifteen years in a penal colony, from where they mounted a daring escape.

This is an exciting new book by Meredith Hindley. Instead of Humphrey Bogart and Rick’s Café, this book features interesting real people, such as the famous singer Josephine Baker, who, although not members of armed forces, still did their part to help the Allied cause. After conducting extensive research in archives and secondary sources, Hindley crafted an engaging narrative in which she connects exiles who gathered information about the Germans with the fight for control of North Africa and the Mediterranean. I recommend this book because it provides a human dimension to the story of the Battle for North Africa.