The most recommended books about Mennonites

I was blown away by this book when I first read it, and it may be one of the best books I’ve ever read.

I laughed out loud at the wisecracking wit while tears actually dropped into my lap at the aching sadness as I read of the struggles of Yolande to stop her famous pianist sister Elfride from committing suicide and as she mines their strict Memonite past (including their father’s own suicide) for reasons for Elfride’s depression.

I kept gulping out hilarious bits to my partner while wiping my eyes and blowing my nose. I found it hard to put down to go and eat. When I finished it, I didn’t feel I’d read it; I felt I’d had a whole experience, and I set about recommending it to my reading group and all my friends.

This is a novel of violence and misogyny, but it is also strangely uplifting and inspirational.

A group of women brought up in a cult discover a horrifying secret about the men in their lives that leaves them with two choices: go or stay. Their dilemma is complicated by their extreme isolation; none of them can read or write and they speak a language distinct to their religious sect. It is told from the POV of a recently returned outcast whose presence is a mystery until the last page. 

I’ve read this book several times and I don’t believe I ever manage to get through it without shedding a few tears. Have tissues handy. A Mennonite family living in Ukraine in the 1920s has their village destroyed by Russian soldiers. The central character, ten-year-old Peter Neufeld, makes a decision to help his older brother Otto escape after he’s participated in counter-attacks, going against the family’s adherence to passive resistance. The Neufelds decide to leave a land of oppression and move to Canada where they will make an effort to assimilate rather than live apart as they have in Ukraine. It’s a journey filled with challenges and heartbreak, but always with the strength of love of family and humanity as a sustaining factor.

Fred was a pilot. He also was an avid ufologist. In October 1978, on a short flight in a private plane from Melbourne to King Island in Australia, Fred has a conversation with air traffic control and claims to see a large aircraft — a UFO — flying around him… until it vanishes. 

That is Fred’s last conversation with anyone as both he and his plane disappear, never to be found. Was it an alien craft? Pilot error? Weather phenomenon?

There are no answers in Krasnostein’s chapters about Fred. But the story and her lyrical writing left me thinking about the nature of belief, the fascination we have with UFOs, and why we want our alien encounters to be real. Why do we want to believe?

As a novelist, I am impatient with books that follow familiar tropes or well-worn storylines.

This book takes a familiar premise – the Western story of a son whose father is murdered by a badman – and turns it on his head, for Euly Kreider, the wronged son, is a Mennonite pacifist who immediately rules out revenge. So where will this Western go?

Every chapter holds a surprise. As the title implies, this book loosely uses the Odyssey as a template for its deep dive into the history of the Oklahoma Land Rush.

Full confession here. I’m not a big romance reader and so I’m baffled by why Mennonite/Amish mystery romances are such a huge genre. Maybe it’s the perceived simplicity and innocence of the sect? Maybe they take people back to a time they never experienced themselves? That’s why I found Weaver-Zercher’s book helpful in clarifying why so many people love these books. Her writing is witty and engaging and kept me reading even though the subject itself is on the academic side. If you do want to explore the genre, the best source for a recommendation is the podcast Just Plain Wrong where three Mennonite librarians irreverently dissect Mennonite romances on a weekly basis.

I first read this book about Mennonites in western Canada during WWII while I was in college. Wiebe had the audacity to pull back the curtain and expose the very human inconsistencies between what we Mennonites believe and how we sometimes behave, particularly around pacifism, racism, and money. Mennonites pride (uh oh) ourselves on living our theology, so the book created quite a stir in the Mennonite world because Wiebe took some shine off the denomination. That very act raised important theological questions for me, ones that I’ll always grapple with in one form or another.

I like to think Wiebe would approve that I, too, have pulled back the curtain with Never Enough Flamingos.

If you’ve browsed my list this far, maybe you’re curious enough to peek into Mennonite theology, which truly is upside-down from the world we live in. Even though I’d been Mennonite all my life, this book, which I read decades ago, explained what radical Christian discipleship meant in a way I’d never fully understood. All those things that make the theology challenging—choosing pacifism, taking care of the least in society, living humbly instead of seeking power, turning the other cheek, forgiving when it’s easier to seek revenge—are also what make it transformative. If only living it were that easy.

Sometimes, research turns up unexpected and inconvenient truths. When Paraguayan anthropologist Canova researched Native voting patterns in Western Paraguay during the last several decades of the nation’s democratic opening, she found that Ayoreo women, from the latest Indigenous nation to be forced off their land, commonly exchanged sex for money or material goods with the local Mennonite setters. 

Economic and mission frontiers in the Chaco have changed gender roles, sexual practices, and frontier economies. While I learned about these practices back in 2002 during a trip to the Chaco, this brave exposé of frontier exploitation and changing cultures finally documents and brings to light new understandings of Indigenous agency amidst settler colonialism on internal Latin American frontiers. 

The collective memory of Mennonites during the Holocaust has long been mythologized or has remained unexamined. A recent renewal of interest from both the Mennonite community itself and scholars of the Holocaust has led to a number of conferences and publications. This collection of essays showcases the latest scholarship and paints a complex portrait of Mennonites in both western and eastern Europe during the Holocaust. The book highlights the many roles that Mennonites played, largely due to their proximity to the events of the Holocaust, including as neighbors, killers, enablers, witnesses, and rescuers. The contributors discuss Mennonite identity, theology, agency, and collective memory, all situating their stories in local, national, and European geopolitical contexts.