Fans pick 100 books like White Houses

Fun Home is Alison Bechdel’s most famous work (and it is phenomenal), but this one captured my heart. While the former focuses on her father, here Bechdel turns her focus on her relationship with her mother, weaving in a lot of psychoanalysis and modernist literature.

Bechdel’s characteristic intricacy and attention to detail are on full display, and the frequent inclusion of dreams and their interpretation (a particular interest of mine) make the whole book feel almost surreal yet completely grounded.

I love all of Sarah Waters’ works, but Fingersmith ranks among my most obsessively adored books of all time. I find it a near-perfect interweaving of meticulously researched historical fiction—penned with Dickensian flair and grace—and compulsively page-turning thriller, marked by brilliant and utterly unforeseeable plot twists that will leave you slack-jawed.

It somehow manages to be wickedly funny, poignantly tragic, powerfully feminist, and gratifyingly steamy all at once. I also loved the Korean film adaptation of it, The Handmaiden, which not only embraces Fingersmith’s anti-patriarchal themes but ingeniously weaves anti-colonialist elements into the by setting it in Japan-occupied Korea in the 1930s.  

Spears’ compelling tale of Jodie Taylor—a lesbian coming of age in the American South of the 1950s and 1960s—smoothly draws readers into that overall time and place through details of setting (a “Pepto-Bismol pink trailer raised on cinder blocks”), behavior (a girl gleefully pouring salted peanuts into an RC Cola) and history (the Birmingham Church bombing) before plunging us into the far-less-familiar inner world of mid-century Southern lesbians. We gain privileged entrée into wildly rollicking bars and snugly welcoming kitchens; witness acts of treachery and acts of fierce loyalty; come to know women of tough skins and tender hearts. “It takes living queer to understand who we are,” one character confidently asserts. But through this adeptly crafted book, Spears opens up that understanding to us all.    

Flora Calhoun—sixteen-year-old, self-appointed sleuth—is hot on the trail of a series of brutal attacks on young women. Ostracized by the in-crowd at her school for her unruly tongue (and for the secrets she uncovers about everyone)—reprimanded by those who love her for putting herself (and them) in constant danger—she ploughs determinedly ahead into increasingly dark and perilous territory. You’re Next is a quintessential YA book—full of the angst, the parental problems, and the acute social commentary of its snarky young protagonist. But does it dwell on the fact that Flora is bisexual? Not for a moment. It seems that in the world of contemporary YA literature we have finally reached the point at which that aspect of Flora’s life is no biggie. Amen.

This depicts the intimacy between Eleanor and Lorena Hickok, a reporter for the Associated Press, that existed at the time Eleanor first moved into the White House in spite of vast differences between the social backgrounds of the two women. Describes Hickok's influence on Eleanor's contacts with other women reporters as well as Hickok's undercover reports on poverty-stricken areas for the Roosevelt administration that prompted Eleanor to personally undertake relief efforts in West Virginia.

This heart-warming picture book celebrates the real-life friendship of two great women, reminding us that greatness doesn’t happen in a vacuum. And their adventure, while unprecedented in history, feels very relatable since it’s essentially a sleepover. At the White House! (With the bonus of the freedom of flying and driving.) The illustrations, while reflecting the time in history, also feel timeless.

ER's many accomplishments perhaps overshadow the importance of her as a political force after the death of Franklin.  I like this book because it spells out what an important role she played in the Truman administration, in particular, and during the Eisenhower years in keeping alive the beacon of liberalism in the Democratic Party.

Elliott Roosevelt, Franklin and Eleanor's third-born, must have read his older brother's book and thought, "That’s not all!"

Always sensitive to his surroundings, Elliott knew things were not right between his parents. He felt the turbulence of Eleanor's "Griselda" moods, recounting an incident that drove her to fire all of their servants after mounting distrust. Where older brother James would write of catching fish with their father on a boat trip, Elliott divulged the sting of witnessing Missy LeHand on his father's lap during that same trip. Elliott also mentioned household staff members including Frances and Millie, who come to the forefront in my own novel.

It presents Eleanor as a passionate woman who drew initial strength from feminist networks as she emerged from a bigoted aristocratic background marked by her unhappy orphaned upbringing and her subordinate role as a wife and mother. First (and the best) of Cook's three volumes of biography on Eleanor, it paints an absorbing picture of the way Eleanor shed Victorian prejudice to become an advocate for social justice.

We take Social Security, Unemployment Insurance, and the Minimum Wage for granted; we also take for granted the presence of women in cabinet positions and as heads of regulatory agencies (especially since the Obama and Biden administrations). But in the 1930s, when The Depression began (and lasted for nearly a decade), none of this was present or common. A whole raft of ideas we call “The New Deal” and ascribe, rightly, to FDR’s astute leadership had, in fact, a moving force behind them, and that force was Frances Perkins, a workers’ rights advocate who served as US Secretary of Labor, 1933-1945. The first woman to serve in a presidential cabinet. Thus, a strong parallel to Eleanor Roosevelt, First Lady. And, therefore, a good book for broader context on the life and work of Mrs. Roosevelt.