The best books with heroes you love to hate

I’m a sucker for a creepy carnival and an acerbic necromancer that doesn’t care much for the value of human life.

Cabal, the titular character, is a wonderful blend of calculating, witty, and merciless. It doesn’t matter if it’s a simple salesman or The Devil himself, Cabal addresses every situation like he’s slightly annoyed at being involved in anything that isn’t his necromantic process.

Throw in the fact that this adventure sees Cabal running a dark traveling carnival to capture souls, and I was hooked. While the humor is dry, I still found myself chuckling all the way through this dark tale. Cabal’s flaws make him a stunning, human character.

Yes, he does things that would make him a villain in any story other than his own, but the whole time, I was still rooting for him to figure out the right thing.

My second love in literature is unreliable narrators, and from word one, it’s clear the protagonist in John Dies at the End is the worst offender.

There are few likable characters to be found in this book, and none of them are the protagonist. I fell in love with the main character’s sarcastic and often salacious take on monsters, zombies, and everything in between. Every scene feels like a joke to the narrator despite the death and carnage that seems to follow in his wake.

More than any of that, this book felt completely unique. I’ve never read anything quite like it. The words crack like a whip, there’s no slowing down, and even as I re-read lines, I felt like I was starting to lose my mind along with the protagonist. That’s a powerful tale.

Here is yet another book where at first it seems as though there are no heroes.

Abercrombie writes a masterful world filled with magic, politics, swordfights, and bleak attitudes. One of the main POV characters is a torturer—I mean a full-on break your toes and laugh about it torturer—but even still, I found myself wanting more of his story. He’s certainly not a hero, but he was at one point, and that’s even more intriguing.

The characters drive this fantasy series, but the world is also a gorgeous setting that Abercrombie clearly spent many long nights thinking through. Every detail feels like it matters, and throughout this trilogy, the smallest specks of plot come back to matter.

On top of it all, I loved the audiobook narrator and his particular performances for each character brought the world to life.

Stephen King’s Dark Tower series might be uneven at the end, but the beginning is masterful.

Roland, a dusty old cowboy on the edge of reality, is the prototypical antihero. He doesn’t care much for other people, he’s got a dark past, and I wanted to follow every dusty step of his journey. The broken pieces of Roland are what make The Dark Tower series unique—that and some astral plane travelling shenanigans. With each dark deed or questionable decision, I wanted to know more about Roland and what led him to that point.

It’s difficult to stay grounded in a world with interdimensional travel and monsters, but I always felt like I had one foot planted in humanity through Roland.

I’m going to end on a happy note with Going Postal. This book is part of Terry Pratchett’s expansive Discworld series, but can be read standalone and actually served as my entry point.

Moist Von Lipwig (gross name to read, but appropriate) is a con man that tries so hard to do the wrong thing, and yet inevitably ends up an accidental hero. Pratchett twists common tropes by making the main character the hero to everyone but himself. Moist sees himself as being purely self-serving, which makes it that much more delightful when he ends up helping others. 

Pratchett’s humor and biting wit about the ails of modern society are on full display and had me laughing aloud through much of this story. It’s endearing, upbeat, and filled to the brim with sarcastic charm. In other words, my kind of book.