Books like A Void — picked by fans

This is a complex and overwhelming book. It covers the detailed contents and history of the rooms and characters in a large apartment block in Paris. Some of the rooms and characters interact in a complex, sometimes dark way. It is a long book, but I found it enthralling all the way through. If you like a detailed, complex, baroque book where you have to read carefully and make connections, this is for you.

This book gripped me as I read it in French. While it’s a story of a lonely and despairing man coming apart at the seams and ending up killing himself, it also feels like a commentary on what was happening to France at that time in 1935. It’s a heavy, dark book, but I believe one of the greatest French novels ever written.

This is an excellent series of essays on the small things in life which please the author. Some are more obvious than others, but all are described stylishly and with typical French humour and elegance. I confess that after reading it, I did my own—inevitably inferior—version. But it was an enjoyment just going through the process.

This is Anatole France’s first novel: a curious two-part story about two “crimes”—the first not selling valuable books which were intended to pay for the dowry of his daughter/granddaughter (depending on which edition you read); the second rescuing his daughter/granddaughter from an abusive guardian. Apart from the wonderful style of writing, I found the curious detachment of the protagonist, detailed in diary form, unusual and oddly compelling.

You may know this book as The Hunchback of Notre Dame, but you probably don’t really know it. Films, most notably the Disney cartoon, have grossly distorted this novel, often having Esmeralda ride off into the sunset with Phoebus. But the novel is really a very dark, Gothic story of love and lust, and one of the first existential novels. Frollo and Quasimodo both love Esmeralda, but she loves Phoebus, and he only loves himself. In the end, everyone dies, allowing their lust to destroy their common sense. Hugo wrote it to help popularize and save Notre-Dame Cathedral from falling into further disrepair. It influenced British author William Harrison Ainsworth to write The Tower of London, thus revitalizing British Gothic in a new way just as it did French Gothic.

Imagine National Treasure set in a magical Belle Epoque Paris featuring an ensemble of endearing thieves—I absolutely inhaled this story!

Chokshi’s writing is as luxurious as velvet, and her wit shines through in the antics of her characters as they set about solving riddles and stealing a series of magical artifacts. I fell in love with Severin and the rest of his crew, and I would give anything to wander the streets of this magical setting!

Regent’s of Paris takes place in a struggling small town automobile dealership during the week preceding a Memorial Day sale.

It’s Glengarry Glen Ross without shoving the reader into a tar pit of despair. I like books that don’t make readers need a shower and antidepressants at the end, at the same time addressing uncomfortable truths. This one delivers with a measure of cynicism.

There’s cynicism in my own work too. I view a cynic as a blend of idealism and sentiment: idealistic enough to see the world as it should be and sentimental enough to recall the exact moment of his/her/their disillusionment.

This classic is not a history book as such, but as a single source, it provides great insight into nineteenth-century park-making and context. It uses the Parisian situation as a pretext to recommend improvements to park provision in other cities, and I love it because the author is so direct and critical, not only with respect to the situation in the French capital but also elsewhere. He is an enlightened observer of fashion and governance.

Terse criticism is provided where required, and which I Iike, and sensible, practical recommendations that are intended to improve the situation in England and often still resonate today. I also like the horticultural detail provided and the sensuous lithographs of plans and views, and I adore the cover of the original edition, which I treasure. 

I bought an English version of this French novel about Paris while actually in that city as a starving backpacker, and have forever associated the wacky joyfulness of the book with the pleasures of that trip. Originally written in a high-energy, idiomatic, slangy, bawdy version of French that scandalized many conservative readers, the plot involves a young country girl named Zazie, obsessed with the Parisian subway system called the Metro, though she’s never seen it. Finally allowed to visit her uncle in the city, she is outraged to find the Metro closed, its workers on strike. She runs away, roaming the crowded city streets, her hilarious extended tantrum not only upsetting her befuddled uncle’s safe and settled lifestyle, but also spreading a generalized craziness throughout Paris. 

That Night in Paris is the second book in Sandy Barker’s Holiday Romance Series, which is packed with beautifully described holiday destinations and the will-they-won’t-they moments we romance readers love. In That Night in Paris, Cat books an impromptu European coach trip in desperation after she has a few too many wines and sleeps with her flatmate. And what a decision that turns out to be when she bumps into her long-lost teenage crush in Paris.     

Cat’s on my dinner guest list because she’s feisty, fun, and oozes sass, while at the same time having a more vulnerable side that would get the deeper conversations going by dessert. Sometimes strong women who are confident and outspoken (in a good way) can be criticised and labelled negatively, but women like Cat should be applauded for being real.