The best books that feature unlikely friendships

I read this book years ago and it has never left me, perhaps because I recognize pieces of myself in Amir’s immigrant experience. 

But what makes the book unforgettable for me is the bond between two young boys. The connection between them is spontaneously formed, built on the innocence of childhood, and crosses social, ethnic, and class divides. This makes the story all the more bittersweet when the beauty of their early world dissolves into the tangled path that follows.

Yet the boys’ friendship echoes the truth of friendships everywhere: messy, loyal, painful, and sometimes, if we’re lucky, redeemed by love.

The book was gifted to me when my mother was diagnosed with ALS.

I’ve never forgotten the terror of trying to understand a cruel illness that came out of nowhere. Medical websites provided only cold facts: she had eighteen months to live. But Mitch Albom’s memoir about Morrie, his old professor, gently helped me absorb the reality of the disease.

What begins as a teacher-student relationship evolves into a friendship where the roles reverse. As the mentor’s health declines, Mitch becomes the one offering strength. Yet, even in his diminished state, Morrie continues to offer Mitch wisdom. Ultimately, both teacher and student end up receiving what they need most.

I think of this book as a dear friend who helped me during a difficult time.

Having grown up in South Africa, a former British colony, I've always had a soft spot for the British. Tea and scones, understated manners, and insistence on proper etiquette are all familiar.

So when Major Pettigrew appears in the opening pages, I recognized his quintessential Englishness immediately. His dazed grief after his wife’s death makes him all the more endearing. And when this very proper widower finds himself attracted to Mrs. Ali, the Pakistani shopkeeper in the English village, I was completely hooked.

Their relationship is an unlikely friendship that blossoms into love, and I was captivated by how he navigates the pull between his heart and the expectations and social codes of his world.

As the Brits might say, a thoroughly delightful read.

They say you should never judge a book by its cover, but when I saw this one, it was love at first sight: the blue waters, the orange octopus, and the little pink fish swimming along the yellow-sprayed page edges.

However, the story matches the promise of the cover. The friendship between a widow working the night shift at the aquarium and an incredibly smart octopus reminded me that connection can be found in the most unlikely places.

Van Pelt’s genius is how she uses the scientifically proven fact that octopuses are bright. In the story, Marcellus, the octopus, sees patterns, secrets, and emotional undercurrents the humans overlook. The octopus chapters work like a lens that reveals what people hide from themselves. It’s just brilliant.

What struck me most about this story was the sheer drama and miracle of its opening scene.

A nineteen-year-old boy stands on a bridge in the pouring rain, ready to end his life. An old woman's voice cuts through the storm and saves him. That moment stunned me.

The idea that someone living inside the fog of dementia could pierce through a young man's darkness felt like a small miracle. And as the two fall into a strange, tender daily rhythm, each giving the other exactly what they lack, their unlikely friendship becomes even more extraordinary.

It moved me because it shows how grace can arrive from the most unexpected places and how two broken lives can heal each other.