The best novels with badass women heroes who don’t start out that way

What makes a woman a hero? Irish writer John Boyne’s narrator was a last choice for me—the daughter of a top-ranking Nazi war criminal who carries the burden of her past at 90. But I came to love the voice of this narrator, her brutal honesty with herself and her circumstances, and her growing awareness of her culpability, even as a child, for what happened.

Boyne elegantly explores the question of whether terrible acts by fathers make their children responsible or if children are inherently innocent. The story’s ending was a complete surprise, bringing this character to hero status in my eyes, as she chooses honor above safety. 

A young woman begins to steal; she has no other way to support her starving and ill mother. When she’s caught, she’s given the fairytale choice of either jail time or service to a mastermind criminal. I’m a big fan of complex morality in a story, and I loved this twisted scenario—who is justified to commit a crime? How can a woman survive in a life of lies? And how can she eventually break free in a very unexpected way?

Because of the unexpected ways she responds to these three dilemmas, she became heroic in my eyes, and I cheered her on at the surprise ending. The author expertly layered the different timelines in this character’s life, never losing me in the transitions, which was an additional delight.

After some challenges with reading the dialect, I became so intrigued by this heart-wrenching story of two teenage girls, one Trinidadian and one African-American, who come together unexpectedly in cold Minneapolis. I loved learning about their cultures, and I loved how they grew close despite their differences and supported each other through the crises of lost family and childhood cancer.

The language and pace beguiled me as a reader. The girls' viewpoints of their past and present worlds were engaging. I felt the heroism in each of them, one facing death, one trying to reunite with her family.

Olive is not a likable character, yet so many readers related to her in the first book, as I did. Strout took a completely different approach in this sequel, which appealed to me even more. We see the larger community in Olive’s life, looking at her through her interactions with friends, neighbors, and a lover who becomes her second husband.

Strout weaves present and past using these different perspectives, showing the rare kindnesses that Olive allows herself. By the end, she was a hero to me because of her changes as a person—the increased compassion tempered her frankness.  A brilliant and realistic exploration of aging, illness, and death.  

In this story, we’re in Georgia, deep in its geology, which for me wouldn’t be a draw for a novel, but Eager presents this landscape through the unforgettable character of Doreen, who struggles with poverty, her role as a woman in Southern culture, her inadequacies as a parent yet emerges as a real hero in her own life and others. 

What I took away was a new view on female pride, a woman’s honor, and what limits an aware person puts on her self-sacrifice. The characters are not all that likable, with the exception of Doreen, yet I was completely engaged in the story. The way the author weaves in the geology, what remains in the earth’s memory, and what remains in human memory was brilliant.