100 Books Like Lampedusa

I very nearly stopped reading this book–even though it’s so short as it starts off unbelievably abstract. I didn’t know what was going on, and the descriptions only added to the confusion. But I’m so glad I kept going.

The main character does amnesia in the most charming way, and discovering his past and the strange world he seems both lost in and totally at home in was absolutely enchanting. This has stuck with me ever since, like the most vivid fever dream.

The island city of Montreal comes to life in vivid, loving detail in this poignant novel. A young schoolteacher confronts both change and stagnation in his life, navigating the city’s streets in constant search of human connection. As he experiences the thrills and heartbreak of being a gay man in a time of liberation, past fears and insecurities hold him back from finding what he’s looking for.

I loved this novel that’s filled with yearning.  

I loved this book because it transported me to the sun-soaked island of Barbados—but not only the glossy image from travel magazines, which I’ve visited before like many other tourists.

It offers an unflinching peek at the authentic, sometimes tragic, side of paradise where the locals live and work. Following the intertwined lives of a grieving young mother, her violent husband, a wealthy widow, and a conflicted gigolo, this novel reveals the darkness that festers within the places we call home.

This novel brings together the past and present experiences of Asian Canadians in a story that’s bursting with light and energy. Much of the book depicts the discrimination faced by Chinese immigrants in Newfoundland in the early 20th century, and I loved how humour was interspersed between moments that stirred feelings of intense anger and sadness.

Throw in a cheeky, time-travelling spirit named Mo and the privileged millennial who learns about the hardship that’s granted him the life he leads, and we’ve got a fresh take on a tragic history from an exciting new literary voice.

After I visited Sicily at 22 (the same age as Mariella in the book) and stayed with relatives in Siracusa, I fell in love with Sicily (and all of Italy) and wanted to know everything I could about it, its history, its customs, architecture, food, and especially to understand the collective psyche of its people. 

My grandmother was born in Sicily and never spoke English even after moving to the United States, and my uncles and father spent a good part of their childhoods in Catania, where the Sicily part of Becoming Mariella takes place. I had never before felt the deep longing of a cultural belonging, and this book, written in 1958, is one of the finest works of twentieth-century fiction (according to Daunt Books), and opened my eyes to the pride and richness of the Sicilian people and its aristocracy, their stubbornness and an understanding of how,… show more.

Here is the appeal of a different kind of story. This novella tells the story of an aristocratic Sicilian woman who, in the wake of the unification of 1860, becomes a brigand, which is to say, a partisan, fighting against the new regime.

The protagonist's unique experience is the key to this narrative, which translates into English very well. 

In 2025, does anyone actually read The Sound and the Fury anymore?

Consider that it’s soooo very complex and difficult: four narrators, three of them unreliable often enough to be considered suspect; a non-linear narrative structure awash in stream of consciousness and the interior monologue, the narrative devices Faulkner developed along with Joyce; multiple perspectives on the same event that dash any hopes for “objective truth;” an appendix the author felt compelled to tack on after the novel was already in print to make sure his readers could actually understand what they were reading.

It requires intense focus and concentration from beginning to end, work that we are loathe to invest our time in in this jacked-up, high-speed modern age that already demands more of it than we are able to give. I read it while working on my Master's Degree under the guidance of a Faulkner scholar, and it… show more.

This Kat Dunn book is an immaculately crafted gothic horror novel that builds tension through atmosphere, character dynamics, and psychological unraveling. I listened to the audiobook, and it became a highlight of my day. The horror elements creep in seductively, rooted more in psychological and emotional distress than terror.

Lenore and Carmilla’s magnetism is intoxicating. The novel stays true to the historical period as Lenore wrestles with her liberation in the hands of her new companion. I was on the edge of my seat with anticipation. Hungerstone is ideal for those who appreciate slow-burning gothic horror with a strong focus on character.

If the moody, mysterious marriage dynamic and tension of Rebecca paired with the vampiric, sapphic yearning of Carmilla sounds interesting to you, this book will utterly consume you.

Although I primarily read contemporary romance, I love historical stories. Mary Balogh is one of the queens of the genre. For anyone who has fallen into the Bridgerton Netflix mania, Mary’s writing evokes the feeling of that time period: so many rules for the nobility and so many people who dare not fall in love or risk a lifetime of pain.

In this book, the couple is certainly not a suitable match. Even in their friendship, there is risk. I loved the way the stakes built up, and I also enjoyed the slow unraveling of a childhood secret that was destined to destroy any chance of happiness for the two main characters.

I hated having to put this book down to sleep, go to work, go back to work, eat, or whatever. I love Heyer's humor. After reading the book many, many times for its warm, feel-good story, I still laugh at some of the predicaments Frederica's adventurous young siblings fall into. And Endymion Dauntry, her silly sister’s cork-brained beau! 

Her writing style is polished and the dialogue is witty. The love interest is believable as is not always the case with romance novels. Accuracy in detail and depiction of the period is important to me, too, and Heyer delivers it. The story is engaging and fun without being silly, and as it’s an older book, it’s free of tedious sex scenes. It’s a feel-good story.