92 Books Like A Summer Bird-cage

I find midcentury fashion memoirs inspiring because they’re filled with stories of strong, self-realized women who really managed to have it all. This one by Bettina Ballard, French editor for American Vogue in prewar Paris, goes one better because it also offers heartbreaking commentary on the war.

Alongside observations about great designers like Chanel and Dior, Ballard writes stirringly of the tragic, gruesome fates that befell many in her world and the courageous way some resisted the Germans to save their art form, couture. Vogue tries to bring her back to New York, but she swiftly returns to Europe as a Red Cross volunteer—albeit one who sneaks non-regulation eveningwear into her trunk. When she finally goes home to marry (for the second time), she mentions it in an aside.  

I read this 1963 novel in college, adored it, and have re-read it many times since.

The book opens in 1933, as a group of eight women are graduating from Vassar during the Great Depression, and one announces her engagement. From there, the book functions almost like a work of journalism, following their lives until they gather again for the bride’s funeral in 1940, just as America is on the verge of war. In between, their stories demonstrate the different possibilities for women during a time of enormous social change (the period parallels the Makioka Sisters).

McCarthy’s writing has great range: while describing some figures, she’s biting and acerbic; with others, she’s empathetic, and they all seem very real, even today. I’m still looking for a love story like Polly’s.

I read this book in college and still recall it vividly.

A family seeks to marry off its daughters in prewar Japan, but while the world around them is evolving, they cling to tradition, insisting that the betrothals and marriages must happen in order. The youngest has a suitor and is eager to move forward with her life, but the first in line isn’t interested in being matched or hurried, which provokes a cascade of crises. Although the goal is finally achieved, there’s no sense of triumph.

Even in translation, the story is rich, complex, and naturalistic, and the characters seem so real that I once dreamed about encountering them on the street.

I fell in love with designer Vicky Tiel’s 2011 memoir because of what I’ll call its “sex-positive” rompiness, which reads like a Swinging Sixties female version of Henry Fielding’s Tom Jones. (I stumbled upon it during research because it includes some of my characters, primarily Mia Fonssagrives, daughter of supermodel Lisa Fonssagrives and stepdaughter of Irving Penn.) 

In the book, Tiel, who made her name designing catsuits, hotpants, and miniskirts, explains how she and Mia went from being design students in New York to “It” fashion designers in Paris pretty much overnight. They have many adventures, bed many men, and pick up practical life advice from models and movie stars like Elizabeth Taylor while growing up. It’s a total period piece but also, it hasn’t aged. With pictures and recipes!  

Painfully and beautifully relatable.

All My Puny Sorrows had a profound effect on me as I was wrestling with the loss of someone I loved fiercely and who wished to die. And while this story examines the intricacies of a tragic family dynamic, it’s also very funny—a contrasting combination I adore. 

Laughing in the face of heartbreak is my favorite strategy for healing, and this book delivers both.

I’m going to start off by saying that this novel in verse had me in tears. Often. Camino and Yahaira live very different lives except for one thing: they share a father who dies in a tragic accident. What follows is an exploration of and window into grief from two very different perspectives, a reckoning with the truth, and a path forward for both girls that allows them to move forward with a sense of hope.

While reading it, I sometimes felt as if I was probing a wound, which I mean in the best way possible. It felt cathartic in a way I hadn’t expected when I began the book. 

Jane Austin is a classical writer of romance and a perfect combination of well-written English. The love Mr Darcy had for Elizabeth was explained with passion through the English language. 

It addressed issues within that time, and the beauty of a girl, as well as the strength of a man, was portrayed well. Jane Austin has other books, but my favorite was this one. 

“Long ago Virginia decreed, in the way that Virginia decrees, that I was the painter and she the writer.” Vanessa and Her Sister is a portrait of two extraordinary and unconventional women, Virginia Woolf and her sister, Vanessa Bell. The story is told in the form of a diary kept by Vanessa, beginning at the turn of the 20th century with the formation of the Bloomsbury Group in London. Priya Parmar has created a sympathetic yet honest portrayal of Virginia Woolf, her genius and her often precarious mental state, and the impact it had on her family—in particular Vanessa, who was an important and steadying influence for her sister and a talented artist in her own right.

This is a children's book – the story of the three Fossil children, their peculiar upbringing, and the ups and downs of their lives at stage school – but it is a wonderful read at any age. Brilliantly infused with the texture of daily life in 1930s London, it creates a really specific and compelling atmosphere. The food they ate, the cost of clothes, transport, the make-up of their household, even the quality of the air they breathed, is all described, as part of a warm and engrossing tale. Nothing I've read quite transports you to that time in the way that this does. 

Flynn Berry’s first thriller opens with a stunningly rendered scene in which the protagonist, Nora, discovers the body of her sister, Rachel, who has been murdered.

Throughout the novel, Berry captures Nora’s shock, grief, and sense of mission—to find out who killed her beloved sister—in precise but poetic language. I witnessed the horror visually and felt Nora’s emotions without any extra flourishes or sentimental language.