89 books like The Sorrows of Young Werther

Madame Bovary is the story of a woman who endlessly struggles to escape the banalities of her provincial life.

This novel makes you feel like you’re in the head of its main characters: first Charles Bovary, then Emma, his second wife and the novel’s eponymous hero. It is so realistic that upon its release, the author was taken to court for public offense against morality.

Still very modern, Emma’s drama is, to me, the discrepancy between illusions and reality. Her quest for happiness outside of her own condition and her inability to be satisfied with what she has are themes that, I believe, still resonate today.

It may seem odd to include a novel in a feature about swear words but Lawrence’s famous/notorious book Includes several taboo terms. True, these relate to sex rather than swearing but there is considerable overlap between the two. This is the long-banned account of the affair between Constance Chatterley, a lady, and Mellors, the gamekeeper on her husband’s estate. Lawrence knew it would not be published openly in Britain in his lifetime. The watershed Old Bailey case in 1960 cleared the book of obscenity and (depending on your point of view) opened the floodgates of filth or ushered us towards the sunlit uplands of the permissive society.

Rarely have I opted to read a book twice, but the love story between Catherine and Heathcliff is so well written and so emotionally charged it drew me in and made me forget I was alone and single. Of course, I had to re-read it.

The first time I read this book was in school, but later, when I dreamed of having a true love, or learning about true love, this book seemed to be the case study of the type of love I was searching for. I knew in my heart, that someday, something similar could possibly be mine.

Steppenwolf is part funhouse reverie and part rumination on class division and loneliness, and it’s steeped in Hesse’s fascination with the sublime.

It’s not necessarily a fun read—at times, it’s downright frustrating—but it has the cajones to be frustrating, and that’s fine by me. Hesse employs a version of Jungian analysis in this book, and I enjoy the multiple "selves" that the protagonist Harry Haller (a substitute for Herman Hesse himself?) inhabits.

Louisa Clark is a lively heroine in the most somber, complicated circumstances, which elevates this book from a normal rom-com to something tender and profound. JoJo Moyes has done a fantastic job combining humor and sadness in this tale of love and hope.

The book deals with the perplexing debate around assisted suicide through the characters, and as a reader accustomed to upbeat endings, I couldn’t see how this would end well. And I’m glad it didn’t. Sometimes, we need a bittersweet blow to the stomach and a good old cry.

Best known for its famous quote “To be or not to be.” Shakespeare’s masterpiece Hamlet revolves around the struggles of life.

I find this piece inspiring —not because of the question of suicidal ideation but—because of how it is written. Shakespeare manages to put an entire existential crisis into such a concise statement. I wish I could write quotes like that. Also, Shakespeare’s 5 act structure, although from theatre, builds the backbone of my books.

The language is witty, stating so much in between the lines. What I find most inspiring about it as an author, though, is that Shakespeare managed to appeal to a broad mass by providing entertainment to the simpler folks while addressing sensitive political topics and philosophical questions for the intellectuals.

This book by my author friend Marlene puts together the shards of colourful glass to reveal the beautiful mosaic of Tess, a self-made but shattered woman feeling closer to a stranger than to herself, recounting stories about Native Americans, Africans, and the farm life of the poor early settlers in Canada.

I like this book because it addresses multiple personality disorders. I think while it is easy for most to relate to physical illness, it can be tough to relate to mental illness. Speaking from experience, someone said uncomprehendingly after a suicide, “But she was intelligent,” as if mental disablement and mental illness were the same thing. We can also catch a cold without being physically disabled.

Sometimes you need a good read to curl up with on a rainy day, one that’s a bit melancholic yet romantic at the same time. I know I do, and The Lost Melody checked both those boxes. My heart ached for heroine Vivienne Mourdant, for have we not all struggled with reality now and then? And who wouldn’t if trapped within an insane asylum? This one kept me guessing until the very end as to how poor Vivienne would ever escape in one piece. 

Definitely more Jane Eyre than Jane Austen.

Lessing was the rare woman among Britain’s pack of Angry Young Men in the late Fifties and early Sixties, and, among her primary targets, was Hollywood’s sometimes thin, hyper-sentimental, maudlin version of love.

The centerpiece of this collection is the gut-punching title story, all about an aging theater actor who tries and fails to rekindle an old flame and then ends up with a brash actress half his age.

His new lady’s view of romance is contemporary—which is to say, ice cold. After sleeping with him, she says, “You know what, George? You’ve just got into the habit of loving. You just want something in your arms, that’s all. What do you do when you’re alone? Wrap yourself in a pillow?”  

Clare Darcy’s books were published in the 1970s, and she was billed as the “best Regency novelist since Georgette Heyer,” which was probably an accurate statement at the time–and might still be. I do enjoy her funny, witty Regency novels, and this one, with its ensemble cast of unique characters, is a particular favorite.