The most recommended books about Barcelona

My wife introduced me to this gripping crime thriller. Set during a roasting summer within a rural southern Italian community, the tale is told through the eyes of a child.

Part of a little gang of faithless so-called friends, and surrounded by untrustworthy adults, the young hero is the only sympathetic character in the story. But what a story! Ammaniti brilliantly evokes a sense of place and time, and the sheer desperation of the poor.

I guess I’s not a coincidence that this series of fiction books are written by the same writers as the previous one, since both of them have the same high quality in their content and are grammatically so well focused. 

The protagonist is Lola Lago, a detective who will solve a case per book.

The books range from level A1 to level B1 and come with an audiobook. The length of the stores is perfect (45-60 pages) and the format light enough to feel that you can do it. Every one of them is well focused on its level, and you can find, at the end, lovely explanation notes and light and fun comprehension exercises.

I loved the slow, almost glacial pace of this hostage thriller set in an isolated farmhouse in rural France. Over the course of the single day of a surprise birthday party, it gradually generates an almost unbearable, edge-of-your-seat intensity as it builds towards a final, nightmarish climax.

I really enjoyed the literary narrative style, which cleverly guides the reader through the inner thoughts of each protagonist, seamlessly shifting points of view within single paragraphs without us even noticing. We are never too sure why the events in the book are taking place (who are these intruders, why have they singled out this small family?) until the eventual revelations of past lives and secrets bring everything into focus.

A big shout-out to the translator of this book–a masterful job!

I came to the book almost a year late, which is astonishing, as I am a great fan of Enriquez’s short fiction. The short stories in this collection met my expectations, combining gothic (or, shall we say, neo-gothic) elements with a vivid ramble through Buenos Aires, where the stories are based.

Enriquez is a master of the arts of the short story, and the hearts of human beings. These unsettling narratives of witchcraft, revenge, disappearances, and madness seem to be so far from our ordinary middle-class existence, and yet, they tell you more about our lives than the usual fiction of jam on bread. 

The book title Love Virtually instantly reminds me of the rom-com book that I wrote. The vibe of the book and when I read the synopsis are kinda similar to the world that happened in my book. It’s all about writing to a stranger and falling in love. I like it. Love Virtually is an example of a simple love story. This kinda fresh and unique story idea is still rare out there. 😊

Tormented Voices often brings me close to tears. Although based on records from 800 years ago, it feels very immediate in its account of the lordly oppression that often blighted peasants’ lives.

The records detail villagers’ complaints against knights who had violently forced them to hand over grain, money, or animals. The villagers say that heads were broken, a woman’s nose cut off, houses made uninhabitable, and so on. The villagers employed scribes to write out these complaints to send to their Count-King in Barcelona, but we don’t know if he even replied, let alone if anything was ever done.

By restoring the peasants’ voices, the book does what it can to right the wrongs done to them so long ago. 

Long before Squid Game popularized the “Game” subgenre, Richard Laymon wrote a wildly fun tale of a young woman running around town completing bizarre requests for money. As the payouts increase, so too does the ridiculousness of each request. Laymon is a guilty pleasure and one of my favorite authors, and In the Dark is one of his best.

Death in Spring is a tiny book containing a bigger, more intricate world than many a doorstopper, for all that the whole story set in a small, nameless hamlet.

Life there too is made of strange, violent rituals, only not the ones we know. We follow a boy growing up and learning them, and being scarred by these mysteries—what do they fill the mouths of the dead with, before they are killed and put into a tree forever? (It’s cement.)

Rodoreda wrote in Catalan, and Tennent’s translation is fluid and beautiful.

Perfection is a rare thing; if you want to see what that looks like, here you go.   

I love the idea that books have souls, and I adore this quotation from Zafon’s classic novel: “Every book, every volume you see here, has a soul. The soul of the person who wrote it and of those who read it and lived and dreamed with it.”

I was thrilled to find this novel after I’d written my book because it shows that there are others who sense the soulful quality of old books. I also love it because it is written by a Spanish novelist, and it is in the Spanish-speaking world that we find the true literary origins of my most-loved genre of writing – magical realism.

I’ve read the first sentence of The Angel’s Game over and over, never tiring of the simple wisdom—and truth—of protagonist David Martin’s words: “A writer never forgets the first time he accepted a few coins or a word of praise in exchange for a story…” And for the rest of the novel, I’m caught in the web of an author whose prose is as pleasurable to read as the story itself. The Angel’s Game is an example of visionary/metaphysical fiction, a little-known genre under the umbrella of speculative fiction containing paranormal and/or supernatural elements that don’t exist in the real world. Carlos Ruiz Zafon, however, makes the unreal seem real and the impossible seem possible, a sign of a truly gifted writer.