Fans pick 100 books like This Strange Eventful History

This charming parallel universe story is like two contemporary realistic novels in one. Fifteen-year-old Summer Everette makes a choice at the beginning of the book (no spoilers, here!) that will either take her to France or keep her in upstate New York for the summer. So why not see what would happen in both worlds?

This book has all the elements I love. A relatable protagonist, two adorable love interests, and tons of heart. Add the French countryside element and voila! Parfait!

Books and Paris, need I say more?

Based on the true story of the librarians at the American Library in Paris during World War II, The Paris Library is “an ode to the importance of libraries, books, and the human connections we find within both,” writes author Kristin Harmel.

I gravitate towards books about bookstores, their coziness, their safety. The main character, Odile, reminds the reader that we all have bravery within. I gravitate to older women in my own life, the mother-figure I never had. As a mentor in Odile’s later life, I am heartened by the intergenerational relationship she nurtures.

Domestic suspense is having a moment. These aren’t your “damsel in distress” stories where a woman waits for someone to save her. I like women who bounce back hard after a setback, and this book is exactly that.

Without spoilers, when Stella’s husband goes missing after a bombing, she can’t accept the fact she has to start over. I love the fact she wants answers, and when she doesn't get them, she strikes out on her own.

Kimberly Belle creates strong female lead characters in her books, and if you’re like me, they keep you turning the pages. Kimberly is always one of my must-buy authors—The Paris Widow is no exception.

I love stories about iconoclasts, and Joan of Arc fits that description, if anyone ever has.

The hard reality of this retelling draws me in: Joan’s a secular military leader who grew up toughened from her father’s blows rather than a pious young woman who hears voices. That skeptical take may offend some readers, but the history, politics, and personalities come vividly to life and seem real to me.

Chen’s seductive prose makes me wish I could write like her, and her novel lets me feel the tragedy and uplift of a great historical figure.

I love this book because it is raw. For those who dismiss erotic writing, because they think there are only a finite number of ways to write about sex and sexuality, I recommend this book. The raw and transformative way it writes about the attraction, longing, and pain of sex is joyous and agonising to read.

I love it because I don’t actually like either of the main characters, and liking the characters can often rescue a book from otherwise poor writing. I loved this book despite disliking the main characters. 

I’m already revealing a pattern, aren’t I? I adore books that plunge their protagonist into a new life abroad. When Stella’s estranged mother dies, Stella receives an unusual inheritance: a one-way ticket to Paris.

Alone in a foreign city, Stella falls back into her cautious, frugal ways. I can relate! However, an impulsive purchase propels her on a path to new discoveries—of Paris and herself. Stella plunges into the culinary scene. She lives as a “tumbleweed” at the famous Shakespear and Company Bookshop.

What a dream! I loved traveling along with her. 

This book is about a heroin addict. However, you don’t need to be a heroin addict to sympathize with its protagonist’s existential weariness—or ennui, as the French call it. I know I do. After exiting a rehabilitation clinic, he wanders around listlessly, visiting friends and acquaintances, trying to find a reason to go on, yet finding none.

The story may be better known for the excellent film adaptation by Louis Malle—which switches heroin for alcohol—yet the terse and evocative writing of the original novel nevertheless packs a punch. The fact that the protagonist was closely inspired by the author’s friend lends an element of authenticity to it, making his suffering all the more relevant.

Discovered and first published by W.H. Ainsworth, ‘Ouida’ – named from a childhood mispronunciation of ‘Louise’ – went on to become a prolific and bestselling novelist. Her style was melodramatic, intense, and bodice-ripping, her novels usually set against a society or military background. She wrote forty-five novels, Under Two Flags being the most successful. She remained popular until the early 1890s and, like Ainsworth, was granted a Civil List pension for her services to literature. Also like Ainsworth, she is not much read nowadays. In the novel, the profligate hero fakes his own death to avoid gambling debts and exiles himself to Algeria, joining the Chasseurs d’Afrique, the forerunner of the French Foreign Legion. A long way from the moralising tone of much Victorian fiction, ‘Ouida’ always keeps it racy and swashbuckling. 

This is a powerful memoir. First published in French in 2016, one year after Mokhtar Mokhtefi’s death, it is an eyewitness account of twentieth-century Algeria, tracing his political journey from a poor village south of Algiers, through to the French secondary education, one of the few Muslims to do so, and his eventual engagement in the FLN in 1957. Graphically portraying the anger and disaffection that drives Algerians to rebel against French rule, the book is equally unsparing about the divisions and authoritarianism which riddle the National Liberation Front and shape post-independence Algeria. Beautifully translated by his widow, the writer and anti-imperialist activist Elaine Mokhtefi. 

Fanon’s analysis of how Black people in colonized Africa and in the United States were one oppressed people was part of my political education. This book was formative to my politics, which are rooted in Fanon’s combination of Marxism and resistance to racial oppression.

Reading Fanon allowed me to accept my culture and who I was as a Black person. I started reflecting on assimilation and how we changed our hair and skin to look more acceptable to white people. He was also my friend Nate’s favorite author.

After Nate got out of prison, he became an attorney and director of prisoner legal services at the San Francisco Sheriff’s Department. There’s a memorial to him there still, in the jail lobby, and Fanon’s book is in there.