100 Books Like Call Me by Your Name

I’ve read this book more times than I can count.

Hell, I think I actually wore the pages out, if that’s even possible. When I was younger, I went back to it like a lab rat hitting the lever for a pellet—each parable connecting another dot. To me, the mystery was life, the teacher the universe, and I was the student—albeit a lousy one. 

The Alchemist is one of those rare novels that feels both timeless and uncomfortably personal. At its foundation, it’s about following your own path—trusting the itch of intuition and chasing something bigger than yourself, even when it feels a little foolhardy in the moment.

What I love is how Coelho cuts through with fable-like simplicity: those who love walking go farther than those who love the destination—and they usually learn a hell of a lot more if they’re paying attention. 

I recommend it because it doesn’t… show more.

Ever since reading this book, I *can’t* think of the original version of the Iliad without referencing his haunting retelling from Patroclus’ perspective. Miller did such an incredible job putting me in the story and making the characters so real that I actively missed them when I put the book down.

It doesn’t hurt that it has some of the most beautiful poetic language I’ve encountered in story form. Helen is more of a background character playing her classic role, but I was still fascinated because Miller plays on the demigod aspect of both Helen and Achilles in a way that makes them steal any scene they’re in. There’s a quiet power to them that transcends the page.    

Continuing with heartbreaking love stories (can you sense a theme? and perhaps the reason my debut is often recommended to be read with tissues), I adore this book. I was listening to the audiobook and enjoying it so much that I bought the print version to inhale the formats in tandem.

It is another love story told over decades, set against the backdrop of political upheaval in Tehran. It will leave you nostalgic for the path not taken while deeply satisfied with the ending Kamali pens (Warning: I bawled). A poignant novel that will stay with you for a long time.

This is another two-for-one book! It is a historical fiction about the life of Alexander the Great, told by his male lover, Bagoas. But it was written in 1972, only five years after the decriminalization of homosexuality in the UK. Bagoas is a nuanced character; he is frank about the nature of his love for Alexander the Great, and there are even a few sex scenes! As I read it, I couldn’t help reflecting on how groundbreaking this must have seemed in the context of the 1970s. 

Mary Renault is a very interesting figure in her own right. She was undoubtedly queer and lived with her partner for over 50 years. There are relatively few women in her novels, and many of them are unflatteringly depicted. Renault eschewed the label of ‘lesbian,’ was uncomfortable with the early gay pride movement, and is said to have told people that she wished… show more.

Everybody loves this book because it, of course, has become an international classic of literature and one of the best works F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote, which takes the reader on a time-traveling secretive world of the upper-class set in New England life in the 1920s.

In F. Scott's work, we are casually and comfortably introduced to an America where new money met old money, and the tender tightrope one had to walk in order to vie for position, marriage, and peer acceptance in a world founded on wealth and prestige.    

This is the first book I ever read by a Latina author. I was nineteen years old and a student at a small private liberal arts college in Connecticut. My professor assigned it to my American Literature class. I thought she’d made a mistake because some of the words in the book were in Spanish. I didn’t know you could do that—write in English but have some words in Spanish peppered throughout the dialogue and text. I was stunned.

I remember reading about Esperanza and her experiences in her Mexican neighborhood in Chicago, meeting characters on Mango Street, and falling in love with both the story and Cisneros’ playful, vulnerable, poetic writing style. After reading this book, I knew I also wanted to be a writer.

Patti Smith’s book beautifully chronicles her intense and formative friendship with the groundbreaking artist Robert Mapplethorpe as they navigated the vibrant and often gritty art scene of late 1960s and 1970s New York City.

Theirs wasn’t a fairytale romance, but a complex, evolving bond between two flawed yet undeniably brilliant creatives. Reading about their struggles, their artistic pursuits within the legendary Chelsea Hotel, and the wider New York City scene evoked a strong sense of nostalgia for me, a time and place I've always found artistically inspiring.

The exploration of their creative partnership, the push and pull between them as individuals finding their artistic voices, is something I’ve often yearned for but haven’t quite experienced in such a profound way.

This is so much more than a love triangle story that I hesitate to reduce it to merely that. The novel explores interracial relationships, “blackness” in both an African and an African-American context, and the ways in which those worlds collide, etc., etc. At its broadest, the book describes the story of the Nigerian diaspora writ large. But at its core, this is the story of a love triangle—the sort of story I love most.

(I grew up a bit of a mama’s boy, and in our household, we loved love stories…)

As in Ishiguro and Jones, cited above, and in Garcia Marquez, noted next, the characters here submit to pressures and make difficult choices—as thoughtfully as they can, under the circumstances. And those choices have life-changing consequences that the characters eventually come to regret.

I love a soft sci-fi and Adam Silvera knows how to deliver.

What makes his world different from ours is a technology that can let people know the day they are going to die, on that day, so they have a chance to say goodbye. It provides such potential for deep introspection (for his readers as much as his characters) and heartbreak. 

I read the book originally in college as part of a Jewish Literature course, and I was struck by the love story inside. The title drew me in immediately, and it was one of those beautifully heartbreaking stories with lines that will stick with you for a lifetime.

“Once upon a time, there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering.” I will never be over this one.