80 Books Like Junkyard Cats

If the other four books I’ve recommended are founded in grim reality, this one’s that guilty pleasure that an ancient world author might not want to be caught reading. But, if war is a timeless and undeniable fact of human existence—and it seems to be right now—then Marko Kloos’s story of men and women at war in the 22nd century, with an enigmatic alien species as the enemy, is pretty much timeless, too.

Yes, there’s a high-tech kit, but it’s never the McGuffin, and the same themes as ever—duty, honor, and the planet—come to the fore. Easy to read but never lazy, I found this series as gripping as the others. If you (like me) read a lot of historical fiction but have a soft spot for sci-fi, then this is about as highly recommended as they come.

This book is a little more Space Opera than Sci-fi as it focuses more on the adventure than the impossibility of the technology. It takes place thousands of years in the future when man kinds had spread out across the galaxy and forgotten about Earth, for the most part. The characters are not deep, and the story relies more on action than complexity, but it’s fun. It moves from one event to another, the main character is a bit of a rogue that you can’t help but like and his female counterpart is smarter, faster, and deadlier than he will every be, so it's good she is on his side. One of the reasons I like these books (10 book series with some spin-offs) is because it is very different from my style. If my books were Angus Steaks, these would be an Ice-cream Sunday.   

I was once told; the best authors are the ones who read more than they write. To that end I don’t always stick with my favorite genres. This book was recommended to me by a friend as a sci-fi that I typically would not read because it’s also a romance book. Hey Alexa, is slightly in the future, when Amazon develops an evolved version of Alexa that exists in a beautiful female android. I don’t want to give any more away. What makes this book wonderful is the journey the two main characters take in discovering that love is as unique as each individual person and it can be found when we are open to it.  

This book is a little heavy on the tech and military strategy. A lot of authors lose their audience when they over-describe the nuts and bolts of their sci-fi universe or develop a tactical situation that is too complex for the reader to follow without a map and star chart. But Mr. Wehr keeps a nice balance between the details of the ships and AIs with the characters and their personal interactions. There is just enough of a personal perspective to keep the sci-fi from becoming dry. The story was inventive and became more interesting as it progressed.  

This book about rebels itself rebels against historians such as Abrams, who view Romanticism as a single movement unified by an expressive theory of art. 

Instead, Butler argues, there are many different sorts of Romantics, and they are best understood not through theories of art but through "the fierce personal and artistic politics of an age in the midst of profound change." That Age of Revolution had begun in the 1760s, and the ordering of the arts reflects debates about the social standing of the arts, not any consensus. Butler relishes these conflicts.

She pays attention to the groundswell of "art for the people" as well as "the war of the intellectuals," and she is not afraid to embrace the chaos and complications that thwart any effort to paint all arts and artists with one brush.

An interdisciplinary study taken to its logical conclusion. Starting with a powerful interpretation of Romanticism back in the 1950s, Peckham’s work culminated in an ambitious "general theory of human behaviour."

In essence, this book helped me understand that explanation is a form of violence–all languages, and all cultures, strive to enforce predictable behaviour in other human beings. Despite his flaws, Peckham offers a fascinating example of the power of interdisciplinarity. All subjects, when followed through, lead to all the others. 

Art history also knows a Romantic movement, as does music history. Brown’s book has 250 color plates, mostly of painting from Constable, Turner, Blake, Friedrich, Delacroix, Goya, and many others, but also of some architectural wonders. Brown makes continual connections to the poetry and philosophy of the time, and to political events, as he organizes his chapters by theme: the cult of the artist, the religion of nature, the sense of the past, orientalism, and the exotic, and so on. There are several fine books on Romantic painting, but this is probably the best place to begin.

This classic study introduced me and the whole world of critics and scholars to theoretical perspectives that still resonate among historians of literature and culture. 

It defines a momentous change: the shift from views of art as a mirror—a reflection of things as they are—to a lamp—a radiant projection from the hearts and minds of its creators. This revolution in aesthetic principles, formulated by German and British theorists, also resulted in new ways of looking at nature and in new kinds of poetry. 

Abrams charts the depths of Romantic theory; and his work helped spur a revival of interest in the Romantics—now often cherished as the first modern poets.

And this choice is a sneaky one: it was published in 1826, but it’s actually set in the late 21st century. I couldn’t resist including it for three reasons: it’s a product of the 1820s (and deals with several social concerns of the time, such as republicanism), it’s written by a woman (and my other four choices aren’t), and its rather apposite storyline concerns a mysterious pandemic that rapidly sweeps across the entire globe, ultimately resulting in the near-extinction of humanity (leaving just the last man)… It wasn’t popular at the time – widely considered to be Shelley’s weakest work – but to be fair to her, she was simply ahead of the game and had invented the genre of dystopian fiction. Read in that light, it’s a brave and fascinating work.  

When I was a student I found this book an inspiration. Beautifully written, it brings out deep affinities between the poetry and ideas of Wordsworth, Shelley, and other poets in England and the idealist philosophers in Germany, and the ways both groups rewrote the cosmic ideas of Christianity and ancient esoteric systems. It continually sets off sparks with its surprising comparisons. In the fifty years since it appeared, scholars have complained about how many writers the book leaves out, but given that its theme is “The High Romantic Argument” and not all of Romanticism, I am still impressed by how much it takes in.