The most recommended metamorphosis books

I chose this memoir because it tells the compelling story of Germans and Austrians who joined the British forces to strike back against Nazi Germany—a story that is missing from most histories. First, they had to undergo many metamorphoses—a main theme of this memoir. Peter Masters—originally a member of a respectable Jewish family in Vienna—escapes to Britain and is a refugee from Nazi oppression, but in 1940 the British government identify him as an enemy alien and intern him. For his fourth metamorphosis he becomes a soldier in the British army, but the British government bans Austrians and Germans from bearing arms. After this ban is lifted there is a final metamorphosis when he joins a British commando unit. He writes, "The antithesis of 'lambs to the slaughter,' we fought and many of us died... Those who died preferred their fate to being gassed and cremated by the Nazi brute."

Like the last book, I read this one after seeing the movie. I've never been a big King fan, but this one is a winner. Spoiler alert: it's about a time-traveling fungus. (That never made it into the movie.) For that reason alone, I think this is a sci-fi worth reading. Plus, there's the element of horror present in most of King's work.

The characters are very cool, distinct, and real. However, there isn't much character growth throughout the book. In this case, that's perfectly fine. I didn't need Henry to go through some psycho-social metamorphosis. Seems like today, everyone looks for a protagonist that has to change over time. Just give this one a read.

Assassin Calypso was my favourite side character throughout the series, and in Black Heart, we finally get to meet her properly.

As part of her metamorphosis, she has to learn to trust others, which is perhaps her biggest challenge of all. There’s as much romance as suspense in this book, and former CIA agent Ian Black makes a worthy hero as he teams up with Calypso to right past wrongs. 

I discovered the Drakon series when wandering the stacks at my local library many years ago. Nearly twenty years later, I’m still thinking about these books.

Set in eighteenth-century England, this book is a romance between a thief and an earl—who are also dragons. How fun is that? This series feeds into my love of high-stakes historical romance and magical creatures.

I devoured the story of Kit’s chase of the elusive thief Clarissa, who is destined to steal his heart just as he is destined to capture hers. They are the ultimate enemies-to-lovers trope that I love to read and reread.

This book offers a response to a deep longing to be in the world with childlike curiosity. It encourages our direct perception of life through the energetic heart field. Although it is meant as a knowledgeable guide for listening to and communicating with plants, it elicits a poignant call during a time of profound alienation. Encouraging the letting go of top-down linear thinking, Buhner offers a step-by-step somatic path for decolonizing the soul. I discovered by exchanging the word “psoas” for “plant” the book easily becomes a personal guide for increasing our core awareness as it inspires opening the heart by rooting into a reciprocal relationship with the living Earth. To me, re-wilding my relationship with the deepest aspects of self is vitally personal and imperative if all life is to truly flourish. 

Not strictly a book about talking animals, in that the animal that talks is actually a human when the story begins. Lewis and Wren are going about their unassuming married life when Lewis is told by a doctor that he has one year until he turns into a great white shark.

A wacky premise that delivers so much more than expected, this beautiful, tender fable about love and mortality is packed with lovesick ocean creatures and mothers masquerading as Komodo dragons.

This is a wonderful book. The iconic song of the blackbird takes the author into a series of exciting reflections that complicate a whole range of concepts often applied to birds, such as dance, space, and territory. I was repeatedly struck by her insights into the lives of birds.

I am amazed by the way she brings bird biographies into focus. At a time when birds (and other animals) are still often seen either as empty categories or simply good to think with, such a perspective feels like a fresh wind. As Despret observes, bird songs are in the process of vanishing. I am inclined to think of her powerful book, with its metaphoric uses of the song of the blackbird, as echoes from Rachel Carson’s warnings in Silent Spring.

Claire is an irreverent delight in person, but you won’t see much of that persona in her stories – this book is heavy with gooey and bizarre body horror that always has a deeply personal context for her characters.

She’s admitted that writing is a vehicle for talking about her epilepsy, but you don’t need to share that with her to relate to the strange changes that take place on her pages.

This is just her first collection, an opening salvo across the bow of Australian horror, so it will be interesting indeed to see how her work evolves and metamorphosises over time – to meet the creature that crawls, slime-slicked and hungry, from the casing of her next books.

Locos is charming and cruel, tragic and hilarious, ambiguous yet direct, and written with clear, poetic prose. The experimental style on display never overwhelms the narrative. Despite the fact that Alfau directly declares the fictive nature of his characters, he made me care about them. The book contains a series of interconnected short stories with characters reappearing throughout and even when they are not featured, a brief mention may act as a dramatic revelation that changes significantly what you read before. And further, some of the characters seem to metamorphosize and serve different roles in subsequent stories.

The entirety manages to hold together as more of a novel than a collection partly thanks to the overlapping characters, partly through the consistent tone and style, and partly because Alfau is always in the background or making appearances as "the author." Some of the stories are quite hilarious, while some are devastating.… show more.

MCCarter’s translation is the one I would recommend to anyone encountering Ovid for the first time. It is clear and readable and conveys the colour and excitement in the original.