100 Books Like Burial Rites

This book hit me as both tragic and strangely hopeful.

Chris McCandless walked into the Alaskan wilderness with little more than a backpack and a stubborn streak, and people have argued ever since: was he brave, reckless, or just plain stupid? But his compulsion isn’t as rare as we might think. In my book, Cole feels the same tug—escape the sterile shoebox apartment and the $8 lattes. This can’t be all there is.

What drew me in wasn’t the verdict but his hunger for something real—stripping away every layer of artifice most of us cling to. Krakauer tells it with empathy and curiosity, letting you wrestle with the questions instead of handing you neatly typed answers. I recommend it because it forces you to stare down your own compromises: freedom versus responsibility, idealism versus pragmatism.

Admire Chris or dismiss him, you won’t forget him. And the story lingers like a… show more.

I was immediately hooked by this brilliant novel because of its unusual omniscient narrator, the Grim Reaper. Death, stressed out by the surfeit of “clients” he must deal with during World War II, reveals himself to be a sensitive narrator who sees everything. He especially keeps his eye on a young German girl, her loving foster parents, and the Jewish man they hide and protect.

I fell in love with these characters as they struggled with moral decisions, wartime hardship, danger, and tragedy. Despite the realistic portrayal of German life during WWII, I found this book to be an uplifting read. 

This was the first book that piqued my interest in human dynamics and relationships. Steven’s seven habits ask us to examine our patterns of interaction with others and consider how we can think and act differently in our work. Steven’s approach opened my eyes to some bad habits I had, while also inspiring me to learn more.

Along with a few business dilemmas and dramas, this book set me on a path of inquiry about humans, relationships, work ethics, and the power of words and conversations. 

Who hasn’t dreamt of being able to converse with a wolf? We get our chance in this intriguing story of Fitz Farseer, my all-time favorite character.

There’s much to enjoy in this series—royal assassins, secret mentors, and family betrayal—but what I love most is the outlawed magic that creates a deep bond between Fitz and a fearless wolf named Nighteyes, allowing them to communicate.

Nighteyes, another favorite character, reminds me of my childhood golden retriever, only with sharper fangs and claws. He reveals exactly how much we’re missing out on when we can’t converse with animals like him—sharing their sharper perceptions, grasping the wolfishly obvious, or having our human foolishness pointed out in their bluntly canine way.

Truly a book for the ages, how could I not recommend this? It is THE iconic book about a constructed being and his consequent travails.

Made by Victor Frankenstein from all sorts of collected detritus, when the monster opens his “yellow, watery eyes,” the scientist flees from him and never looks back. The monster is left to negotiate the world on his own, but much like a newborn baby, he is ignorant and unequipped to do so.

I love how, unlike the popular concept of the monster, he is, in fact, a vegetarian, and at the start, very vulnerable and peaceful. He learns to read by sitting outside a cottage where he can hear the cottagers teaching a foreigner to read.

I wrote a whole novel about him, A Monster’s Notes, which transports him into the 21st century.

I’ve read The Name of the Wind twice, and each time it feels like sitting down to hear a bard weave his life into song.

Kvothe isn’t perfect—he’s brilliant, arrogant, reckless—but that’s why I believe him. Rothfuss’s prose has a rhythm that lingers in my head like music. What struck me most wasn’t the magic or mystery, but the small human moments: playing the lute for coins, hungering for knowledge, fumbling through mistakes.

For me, it was less about answers and more about the act of telling one’s story, flaws and all.

I was living in Madrid, Spain, when one of my friends and fellow English-language teachers, Heather, nudged me and said, “James, you have to read this.”

I was in my “James only reads highbrow literature” era, so I told her that the cover looked too pulpy (yes, I was guilty of judging a book by its cover). Thankfully, my respect for Heather forced me to overlook my biases and give Pillars a shot. I’m so glad I did.

The prose style is simple and accessible (obeying Animal Farm author George Orwell’s advice to write prose as transparent as a “windowpane”). And that’s good, because the content draws you in completely.

A village in Medieval England decides to build a cathedral. The characters range from evil knights to noble monks to savvy businesswomen to scheming clerics. The world is rich with detail and the pages are addicting, almost turning themselves. It’s… show more.

This is an unusual crime story set in Copenhagen, Denmark. It caused a sensation when it was published in 1992. The main character Smilla Jaspersen is a half Inuit scientist from Greenland, lonely and homesick in the big city. The death of an Inuit boy pulls her into a complex web of crime exposing Denmark’s complicated relationship with its protectorate Greenland. The title refers to the Inuit people’s understanding of their wintry habitat, and is a reminder of the threat to traditional lifestyles of many indigenous people. A thriller, but so much more. 

I have included When The Lion Feeds because it is the first “grown up” book that I read as a young person.

It was many years ago, but Wilbur Smith’s novel had a big impact on me with his descriptive writing drawing me into the South African setting. The characters in Smith’s novel make for a strong and powerful narrative, and his imagery is captivating.

In many ways, When The Lions Feed is what could be described as a page-turner. I had mentioned in another review that an indicator of a good story is when the reader feels that they know the character(s), and it is certainly the case with this book.

The search for truth is such a powerful force that, in the right circumstances, it can not only propel us to explore the darkest, coldest, and most dangerous recesses of the planet, it can make us question everything we know about life and death, love and betrayal. This classic thriller indulges readers with an exciting adventure across the snow and ice to explore one of the greatest scientific mysteries of all time: is there extraterrestrial life? But perhaps what makes this book so memorable, at least to me, is how deliberately the story tests our faith in friendship, family, and those we trust to lead us.