34 books like Little Big Man

Los Angeles’s Bunker Hill was once a beautiful residential area of Victorian homes of wealthy Angelenos.

In the early 1960s, most of the homes had fallen into disrepair and were being demolished (LA isn’t renowned for his love of history). Leo Politi, prolific artist and writer, documented the area in words and pictures so people could still see what it looked like.

I’m a native of the LA area (Pasadena, to be precise) and a historian at heart. I love this book and Leo Politi, whom I met several times when I worked in the Pasadena Public Library. The almost vertical funicular railroad, Angels Flight, connects Bunker Hill to downtown LA. It also features in some of my books.

The president of the Angels Flight Society said they relied heavily on Mr. Politi’s Bunker Hill when they were refurbishing the railroad. You can still ride on Angels Flight today! Pay… show more.

This book made me fall in love with the mystery genre.

It’s set on an unnamed Canadian island after WWII, and features two children, Barnaby and Christie, who at first hate each other, and then become pals and schemers in the murder of Barnaby’s uncle before the uncle can kill Barnaby in order to gain Barnaby’s inheritance.

Enhanced by wonderful characters, including an RCMP sergeant (the only survivor of all the islanders’ sons who fought in WWII and feels guilty about it), a one-eared cougar, a vicious bull, and a village idiot, I fell in love with everything about this book.

It was published in 1963, and still holds up today in all its eccentricity, wit, and a little (or a lot of) darkness.

When I was a kid, I read a Life Magazine article about elephants. Specifically, it shared how the elephants tried to keep an old, beloved family member alive and mourned his passing. It touched my heart.

Set in French Equatorial Africa, The Roots of Heaven is about Morrel, who attempts to stop the extinction of elephants. It’s an uphill fight for Morrel and those few who work with him and is basically a metaphor for humanity’s struggle to survive.

I loved this book for a number of reasons, not the least of which was how hopeless Morrel’s task seems, and how he keeps fighting anyway. I feel hopeless and helpless much of the time as I watch humans kill not merely each other but the earth itself. The Roots of Heaven shows that light can still shine in the murk of destruction.

Training as a psychologist, I read Leon Festinger’s study “When Prophecy Fails” describing his research study infiltrating a doomsday cult whose believers expected to be rescued by flying saucers from the planet Clarion. Alison Lurie then novelised this scenario in Imaginary Friends. Here we meet a parade of oddballs: psychologists whose everyday normality is deceit, pretending to be delusional themselves, spying on other’s lives: a group of pious, well-meaning souls awaiting extra-terrestrial salvation: a cult leader who receives and relays the group’s alien guidance: the lead researcher who claims to be possessed by the spirit of “Ro of Varna”.

It’s a deft and clever satire that shows the conventions of oddness, and the oddness of conventions.

This book is a striking novella, persisting in my memory and making it ideal to squeeze into a rucksack. It’s perfect for a walking trip, whether close to home or far away, because, in many ways, you are a voyeur–an outsider–of how other people live.

The book has philosophical heft and rewards careful reading and reflection, making it a perfect accompaniment to the gentle pastime of journeying in foreign lands.

A lesser-known DeLillo book, End Zone is way up there on my list. I read this book when I first started trying to write about football. DeLillo paints a vivid picture of the locker room, the dorm room, and the crazy characters often found inside both. There are also some wild bits about nuclear threats and metaphors about football as war. Perfect for readers looking for a gridiron book with more “literary” leanings.

Angela Carter is famous for her sumptuous language, structural playfulness, genre-bending, and seductive, logic-defying plots – and if you like gorgeous lyricism, unforgettable characters, and magical realism (emphasis on the magical), you’ll fall in love with Nights at the Circus. In 1899, journalist Jack Walser meets six-foot-two circus aerialist Fevvers, “the Cockney Venus”. Raised in a brothel and a graduate of freak shows, she’s now a star of the Victorian stage – but are her wings real, as she claims? Walser becomes part of the circus in body and spirit, as, disguised as a clown, he follows Fevvers to St Petersburg and into the wilds of Siberia, where Fevvers must draw on all her cunning and strength to survive – let alone save Walser, too. 

I love any book written by Carl Hiaasen for the simple fact that he’s not boring, and of course, his writing, though somewhat politically incorrect, makes me laugh. I can forget about everything when reading one of his books.

In this novel, there’s a twist that the bad guy doesn’t think about when he pushes his wife off a cruise ship. The book is seriously hilarious. If you want to disappear into some Floridian madness, you’ll want to read this book.

A library is a treasure trove, in other words, a place where unknown gems of unestimated value can be discovered. The Los Angeles Central Library is one of the great treasure troves of the library world. If you start at “A” in the Fiction Department and keep going long enough, you might get to “W” and discover A Cool Million. Nathanael West died too young, he only wrote four slim novels. But fortunately, his absurdist satire about the ultimate schlemiel, who finds himself besieged and beset by every species of political shark, was one of them.

I miss that library. I haven’t been downtown in months. Years, even.

I read Imperium in an Afro-American Literature course in college. The instructor was excellent. I was the only non-Afro-American male in the class. I sat in the back. As soon as I finished reading Imperium I said to myself “This would make a great movie.” About ten years later I adapted the book into a screenplay. I typed it myself on my old typewriter. There was gunk on some of the keys and they needed cleaning. I realized that around Scene Five. If you ever read my old manuscript, I apologize for the first twenty pages. You can tell Sutton Griggs I’m sorry, also.