100 books like Sorcerers

A steppenwolf is a loner among the animals and Hesse projects his personal isolation and mental turmoil into this masterpiece of autofiction.

It’s timeless because anybody can relate to loneliness. And the book asks the question of how to live a fulfilling life. I personally relate to it so much, because I am familiar with both the involved emotions, as well as the aspect of drawing inspiration for my stories from my actual life experience.

It also gives me hope as a writer, because it tells me that an author does not need to please the broad masses, but can freely write what they carry inside. In the end, this make the more original pieces of art, in my opinion.

Lady Oracle was one of the novels I read in the several years after first having the vague notion that I might like to write a novel akin to Steppenwolf but that would be set in the approximate present day and have a female protagonist. As Lady Oracle’s main character is a writer who, after periodically reinventing herself, now fakes her own death, flees her intellectual, non-dancing husband, and holes up in an Italian village, I saw possible avenues for my own husband-leaving Kari. Would Kari flee to another country? Would she have secret lovers or a history of being fat? Would she, too, fake her own death? Kari ultimately didn’t follow many of Joan Foster’s paths, but she might have.

I’ve been a devotee of Robertson Davies since my early twenties, when my alternately terrifying and delightful supervisor at the Pacific Lumber Company recommended Fifth Business to me. While all of Davies’s mature novels (the Deptford trilogy and the Cornish trilogy, as well as The Cunning Man) have commonalities with my own novel in their explorations of creativity and the psyche, here I’m recommending The Lyre of Orpheus. Why? It tells the simultaneously comic and deep story of a group of foundation directors who find themselves sponsoring and even helping script an opera begun by E.T.A. Hoffmann, now to be completed by their protégé, a brilliant but obnoxious and somewhat gender-ambiguous young composer. Davies’s account of the opera’s genesis and production helped me create my characters’ own theater piece.

Pastoral is one of my favorite recent discoveries. It’s one of a quincunx of novels linked by exploration of five classic literary genres—in this case the currently unfashionable pastoral. Newly ordained priest Christopher Pennant isn’t greatly pleased that his first parish assignment is to a rural town where sheep are numerous. He assumes he’ll be a suitable shepherd to the humans, people he expects to be simple and straightforward. Of course, they aren’t. They’re not only as complex as people anywhere else, but very unexpected. Father Pennant not only finds he has a self-appointed cello-playing chef as rectory caretaker, but he witnesses three possible miracles. Or are they trickery? I love the depth and gentle humor in the priest’s attempts to understand his parishioners and himself. And nature, too.

I loved this multi-generational book about family, love, and finding yourself in the most unexpected ways.

The characters are so well-developed, and the New Jersey Shore setting is downright dreamy. Marilyn is a strong and inspiring protagonist. I couldn’t put it down, but also did not want this book to end!

I remember picking this up, not expecting much since it was marketed as a novel for adolescents, but what I found was a gripping story, very dark, about a time when there was a struggle between paganism and Christianity. It was a lot more than I’d expected, and so, like all the books on my list, it’s one I’ve returned to, to reread. It’s set in a simple village, and there’s a dark presence in the woods that surround the village, that might be a devil. The lead character is a young man trying to define the boundaries between good and evil. The writing is excellent, as is everything by Gene Wolfe, and the story is one that will stay with you. 

The cover made me buy it, and the writing made me love it. An unexpected amateur sleuth, a mere teenager trying to find his missing sister, is the crux of this story filled with captivating characters and constant go-go-go. The entire plot blew my mind with its twists and tensions and completely unexpected angles. I highly recommend this revered mystery/thriller/suspense novel set during the Age of Aquarius—1968 in Laguna Beach, California. 

I love the way this book tells so much with such economy.

Having been thrown unwillingly into a teaching position myself, I could readily identify with the young and awkward Mr. Chipping, whose unassuming nature is at odds with the authoritarian discipline expected of the Victorian schoolmaster.

But Chipping learns that authority can also be exercised through gentleness, understanding, and humour; and I have this book to credit for teaching me that lesson, too. I’m also a history buff, and this book gives an enriching overview of the massive changes that occurred during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.

The more I read of that period, the more this book resonates with me. 

This book marries two excellent elements: the campus novel and the 90s. Set on Harvard’s campus in 1995, this is an especially satisfying read for those of us who remember the rise of email, a mode of communication explored at length in the book.

Batuman captures the awkwardness of coming-of-age so precisely that you’ll either be compelled to look at your old Facebook photos or delete them entirely. Her deft depiction of growing up aside, this is also a beautiful exploration of finding intellectual and artistic community. 

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.