The most recommended books on domestic violence

I personally love this book because I can identify with the characters, who are both flawed and genuine. All too often I’ve started reading a romance only to discover that both characters are gorgeous, billionaires, and have IQs over 180. I find such perfection uninteresting.

The two leads in To Have And To Hold, Sebastian and Rachel, are both train wrecks, although it is initially easier to see Rachel’s problems as she is currently a convict who is being released from prison. Sebastian’s behavior steps over the line. Way over the line. And the tension in most of the book will give you white knuckles. I have never forgotten these characters and their journey toward love was all the more rewarding for how hard-won it was.

Nicola Sharp-Jeff’s book makes a great contribution by linking research on economic abuse to policy and practice.

She has been able to use her research to set up an important organisation, Surviving Economic Abuse, to help raise awareness of economic abuse, influence law and policy and work with industry and government to address and prevent family violence.

I recognise the book’s value because I know how difficult it is to draw on research to suggest ways forward for policymakers and industry. This is a necessary step for all researchers if they want to prevent family violence and empower women.    

Laura McClusky’s investigation of conjugal abuse among a Mayan community in Belize is one of the most ethnographically compelling books I have read on lived experiences of domestic violence.

McClusky was motivated to write this book because most domestic violence research had been clinical or sociological and had focused solely on the experience of violence, often approaching the phenomenon in a “peopleless manner.”

Refreshingly, McClusky decided to focus on the emotions, desires, motivations, and personal experiences of living women more holistically, thus overcoming tendencies to reduce women to the experience of violence and granting them the recognition as agents of actions that they deserve.  

Jan Pahl’s work opened the ‘black box’ of the household for me, to examine how men and women in intimate relationships managed and controlled their money across cultures.

She set up a typology of separate, joint, and independent money management and control that became my starting point for researching money and families also cultures. Her work also started me thinking of the gender of money, that is how men and women use, think, and own money differently, particularly when spending on children and the home.  

John Van Dreal is a school psychologist with decades of experience developing the Salem-Keizer model of violence prevention in schools.

In addition to providing comprehensive threat assessment guidelines, the book also discusses other safety issues including dating violence, workplace violence, domestic violence, and stalking. Whereas some works related to school safety focus solely on students as potential perpetrators, this book also discusses dangers posed by adults. 

The brilliance of Hustle is the way it juxtaposes the everyday addict's life. Sure, there's the big crime and action, bad guys, car chases. Again, that part fiction. But Hustle lives and breathes in between. In the minutia. Of the doldrums of, as Lou Reed once so eloquently sang, waiting for the man. It's the quiet moments and small conversations between Big Rich and Donny, where we see their humanity. As warped and twisted as the world may be around them, they never lose that appeal: being victims of the human condition. And like I said, living this life with Tom (the drug part), I can honestly say it was those little conversations that give you something to laugh about and a little hope to hold onto. 

As a sociologist, I've always been captivated by stories that challenge societal norms and offer fresh perspectives on life.

Mad Honey by Jodi Picoult and Jennifer Finney Boylan is one such book that has left a lasting impression on me. What sets it apart is its inclusive portrayal of LGBT characters, navigating their lives and dilemmas with sensitivity and authenticity.

As an educator, I was particularly moved by the ethical dilemmas presented in the storyline. They reminded me of many classroom discussions with my students, exploring complex social issues and seeking ways to navigate them ethically. The storytelling prowess and the nuanced social commentary made Mad Honey a standout read for me last year.

Highly recommended for anyone who appreciates a thought-provoking, inclusive narrative.

I’ve never been to Wyoming, the setting of this book, and if I’ve read a book set in Wyoming, I can’t remember, but I won’t soon forget this story.

The landscape of Wyoming and all its flora and especially its fauna (hello, title!) are deeply ingrained in this moving and unique story where a little bit of magic (weirdness? nature? something wonderful, that’s for sure) adds a soulful twist to a story dealing with harsh realities.

Because of my past trauma as a domestic violence survivor, I love books where the characters change and become better versions of themselves.

In this book, each character went from being either: isolated, selfish, or anxious—to becoming: part of a community, a person who cares about others, or a person who sees their own value and worth. Watching strangers who are only focusing on themselves become a community that loves and cares for each other was very healing for me.

For a long time, I assumed that I would find these three novellas about churchmen and parishioners in the English countryside of the late 18th and early 19th centuries sleepy and dull. They’re anything but. Eliot depicts the presence of alcoholism, spousal abuse, loneliness, and life-damaging gossip in her fictional communities. But her signature empathy and wit, already on display in this early work, make it invigorating, not a downer.