Fans pick 100 books like The Ladykillers

This book also operates as both a primary source as well as a scholarly work, essentially updating Boorstin. Postman’s classic book wrestles with the paradox presented by George Orwell and Aldous Huxley: Huxley, rather than Orwell, anticipated the future, as one does not need to outlaw certain books if one does not care to read—as one revels in the pleasures of “pseudo-events.”

Read in light—or glare—of the more recent smartphone revolution, Postman’s book becomes even more relevant to contemporary discussions about information, knowledge, and overload.

This book was introduced on the first day of art school. Then, it was reintroduced and repeated by each professor for the duration of my education. As such, it's fair to say that it's an enduring force within academic circles. 

The book touches on major points essential for any informed artist and the need for modern artists to subvert our viewers' hidden biases. It eloquently teaches artists to dive beneath the surface of a work to understand the unseen, the context, and the subtext. Ways of Seeing skillfully inspires a new lens through which to view the world and urges its readers to peel back the layers of meaning from even the most minimal artworks.

For me and so many other artists, this book was an awakening and is one that I turn back to often and am doomed to cite for eternity. It's a transformative journey that challenges and… show more.

I read this classic, published in 1957 when I was in high school. It was perhaps the first critique of advertising, and I found it fascinating.

Packard identified eight “compelling needs” that advertisers promise products will fulfill. Years later, I recognized how some of these needs were used to sell addictive products.

Although he didn’t address the objectification of women, he opened my eyes to the manipulative power of advertisers and the subconscious meaning of ads.  

Williamson was one of the first people (after me) to critique advertising from a feminist point of view. I could have chosen her earlier book, Decoding Advertisements: Ideology and Meaning in Advertising, which also had a big influence on me, but this one is less academic and more readable.

Her discussion of how advertising channels people’s desire for progressive change into a need for products was one of the themes of my doctoral dissertation (written before this book). There are many gems, such as the fact that the ideal body type for women in ads has sometimes been that of a teenage boy!  

What holds together this freewheeling part-memoir, part-meditation, part-history, part-cultural study, wafting across five continents, is the bad, seductive smell of tobacco. 

What it feels like to desire it, to inhale it, to crave it, to miss it. What smoking signifies. At sixteen it was Jean-Paul Belmondo in Breathless and Len Deighton's nameless spy in The Ipcress File who chain-smoked Gauloises blues. 

At sixty it was the withdrawal I felt when I reluctantly "gave up" not just the risky kicks but parts of a past and a self too, accepting that I was getting too old to party. I love this book because I am a smoker who no longer smokes.  

I love this book because I knew Lesley. But most of all, I love this book for Lesley's writing.    

Starks presents us with a marvelous story of the tortured relationship between Soviet society and smoking. On the one hand, Soviet leadership was generally opposed to smoking – both for health and cultural reasons. On the other hand, smoking became associated with both masculinity and the Revolution. Like many a smoker, Soviet society just couldn’t quit, even as the effects of smoking became more and more apparent.

What I love about this book is how Starks takes something omnipresent and disposable – the cigarette – and tells the story of the Soviet Century through it, touching on such a breadth of topics as gender, labor, political, medical, economic, and cultural history. This is a book you just can’t quit.

This book not only helped me successfully become a non-smoker again, it also helped many friends and family do the same. I am proud to be a non-smoker now for 8+ years. Without this book, I am certain I would still be a smoker, addicted to nicotine thinking I could never end the cycle of cigarettes I was putting into my body. This book freed me from that prison.

As cliché as it sounds, I truly did laugh and cry my way through this excellent book of essays by actress and comedian Casey Wilson. Wilson is an excellent storyteller and someone who is just profoundly, naturally funny. But she does not shy away from some heartbreaking and emotionally raw material too, which, quite frankly, is my jam. I did that thing where you get both the book and the audiobook, so when you are walking the dog you can still be reading. I highly recommend following suit because Wilson is such a  delight to listen to. I may have had to pull my car over while listening one day because it was not safe to drive whilst weeping uncontrollably.  

Where the Girls Are is about a particular generation of women growing up in post War America, and the impact popular media had on their lives, both for good and for bad. It weaves wonderfully smart, often funny, always engagingly written discussions of pop music, movies, and television shows with Douglas’s own experiences at the time. It’s unabashedly feminist—but it isn’t a speech or a political manifesto. It’s an exploration of the push-pull of growing up female at a transitional time, a time in which attitudes toward women were changing, unevenly, and how pop culture reflected the tensions of the times. This book is history, memoir, sociology, media studies, all at once – immensely informative and very entertaining.

This slim but explosively dramatic book makes everything you were ever told about the history of polar exploration seem like nothing more than random trivia. Lisa Bloom takes those stories you think you know and offers up the hidden realities of them in ways that explain the race, gender, and sexual politics of not just polar exploration but the idea of “modernity” itself as a crutch for justifying the “penetration” of people and spaces existing at the “ends of the earth.”