100 Books Like In Winter I Get Up at Night

As a fantasy lover with strong interest in humanity’s relationship with religion and our gods, I was blown away by this book. Gaiman is the proven master at fusing our lore, myths, and legends with uniquely powerful characters, themes, and story arcs to create brilliant literary works.

In this book, Gaiman examines American identity and the extremes of our obsessions while seeking to answer the questions of what it means to be ‘god’ and who is deserving of worship. The novel is a chilling allegory of human civilization’s extremes told within the context of a struggle between the ‘old gods’ and the ‘new gods’ of the modern Parthenon, represented by the likes of Technology and the Media.

WARNING: This book may change how you look at America forever!

It would be the most extreme of criminal acts for this beloved book not to be my ‘list topper!’ Reading this book instilled an instant love of good fantasy storytelling in me early on. It defines the fantasy genre, exemplifying the absolute best extremes in great world-building, characters, and epic storytelling.

Tolkien set the high bar I strive for in all areas in my own writing with one of the most memorable stories in one of the most unforgettable worlds of all time … and he managed to pull it all off within the context of a single book! No matter how many times I go back and re-read this one, I find something new to cherish, and you will too!

I love this book for Shin’s exploration of extremes ‘below the pale.’ In it, the most engaging drama is focused on the ‘within’ vice the ‘without.’ What happens when a being’s duty and ultimate purpose come into conflict with their personal desires?

Shin takes the contested space of these interpersonal relationships to another level, because they involve mortals and supernatural beings—angels and humans! The other intriguing theme is the personal struggles for balance and harmony in an extremely complex society which provides compelling context for engaging storytelling, making it a highly recommended and relevant read for today’s world! You definitely need to add this wonderful book to your TBR pile!

Lifechanging! Alan Moore’s 1984-1987 run on D.C. Comics’ Swamp Thing still ranks among the most influential literary work in my creative life; particularly, the Swamp Thing story arc known as “American Gothic” (Issues 37-50).

Moore took an obscure character to D.C. universe icon, transforming him into the green god who is haunted by memories of his lost humanity. American Gothic immerses the reader into a powerful, supernatural character and his world, where the being’s consciousness and experiences collide with the extremes of America’s societal issues of the time.

I was awestruck by Moore’s story series about an atypical hero who is simultaneously on a journey of self-actualization and a quest to stop dark forces from summoning an ancient evil … while also giving me pause to consider deep-rooted issues.

Horrifying, brutal, sinuous, and uncanny, this one floored me. It evokes the peril of girlhood and womanhood with unwavering intensity.

Each story is fresh and unexpected, yet also timeless, rich with wisdom and mythology centuries old. Steeped in painful history, past atrocities twine with the present to nightmarish effect.

Mariana Enríquez is part of a new vanguard of Argentine and Latin American Gothic writers alongside Samanta Schweblin. Their writing, born from real-world horrors, is among the most thrilling discoveries I’ve made in years. 

There is no U.S. equivalent to the comic strip “Mafalda,” a strip centered around a young, middle-class girl and her entourage of neighborhood friends set in mid-1960s Buenos Aires. The strip itself only lasted a decade but its afterlives continue to reverberate across Latin America and throughout other parts of the world. Today, the face of Mafalda—the strip’s namesake—can be found with a speech bubble protesting any number of injustices. It is probably no exaggeration to say that this is the most important comic strip ever written, and one whose appeal lies both in its simplicity and the subtle depth of its political humor. Published here in translation, Cosse, a noted scholar of cultural and social history, has written a biography of the strip and its characters as a way not only of understanding the crisis of Argentina’s middle classes, but the ways in which the mass media transform objects… show more.

Anyone who aspires to an understanding of Latin American democracy must read the work of Guillermo O’Donnell, who almost single-handedly set the terms of the key debates over a period of thirty to forty years; and the only possible reason for this not being my 1st pick is that it is a collection of essays, not a monograph. O’Donnell was a passionate scholar, and both his passionate engagement and meticulous scholarship are amply illustrated in the discussions here of the vicissitudes and possibilities of democracy in Latin America, his wide survey encompassing everything from democratic struggles against authoritarian regimes to the flaws arising in the new democracies from defective institutionalism and extreme social inequalities. Read and admire.

This is a concise noir with clear and simple prose. There is no metafiction, magical realism, or non-linear narrative to contend with. The protagonist, Mr. Machi, is a terrible person, almost psychopathic, a symbol of everything that is wrong in Argentina. The book is a critique of unbridled capitalism and its status symbols. To kick things off, Machi finds a dead body inside the boot of his beloved BMW and from there the action and the hilarity don’t stop. Told from the point of view of Machi, we have an uncomplicated antihero, a person completely without redeeming features. According to legend, the author still works as a subway station cleaner.

This edited volume does a lot of things, allowing authors who have published in Spanish to advance their arguments in English as well as establishing conversations among historians, literary scholars, and anthropologists. Some authors focus on the production and consumption of culture, like Matthew Karush with his examination of the Afro-Argentinean guitar player Oscar Alemán, and Rebekah Pite’s chapter on food history. Ezequiel Adamovsky and Eduardo Elena essays center on race and class during the foundation of Peronism as a political movement, and representations of skin color in politics since mid-twentieth century. While Peronism has never openly challenged conceptions of a White Argentina, some non-white Argentineans sought Peronism as a space to challenge ideas of whiteness.

Erika Edwards decenters the study of the African diaspora in Argentina from Buenos Aires by studying Cordoba, at the geographic heart of this country. The author employs gender as a structuring category of understanding conceptions of race, as she examines the actions of Black women who shaped their own sexual experiences and marriage patterns, creating new forms of identity based on the changing conceptions of race and law at the time, as Argentina was transitioning from colony to nation. In doing so, Edwards charters a process beginning in nineteenth-century Cordoba, which then became one of the keys to understanding a gendered conception of Blackness in modern Argentina.