100 Books Like Sorcerers

This is the darkest of Hermann Hesse’s well-known spiritual journey novels. Unlike works such as Siddhartha, and Demian, Harry Haller in Steppenwolf is a despondent, surly, and suicidal misfit, incapable of coming to grips with the bourgeois culture around him, which seems to him irreparably antithetical to the classical art and literature he worships.

Haller’s eventual spiritual awakening is far more subtle and less dazzling than those Hesse portrayed in other works, and for me, therefore, in many ways more relatable. Deeply ingrained in my mind is Hesse’s image of the gramophone playing tinny, distorted works by master classical composers—which Haller at first despises— but then comes to see that it is much like his trying to decipher mystical truth, which manifests to him in a sort of abridged and imperfect form—because that is all that we, as corporeal humans, are able to discern.

Lady Oracle was one of the novels I read in the several years after first having the vague notion that I might like to write a novel akin to Steppenwolf but that would be set in the approximate present day and have a female protagonist. As Lady Oracle’s main character is a writer who, after periodically reinventing herself, now fakes her own death, flees her intellectual, non-dancing husband, and holes up in an Italian village, I saw possible avenues for my own husband-leaving Kari. Would Kari flee to another country? Would she have secret lovers or a history of being fat? Would she, too, fake her own death? Kari ultimately didn’t follow many of Joan Foster’s paths, but she might have.

I’ve been a devotee of Robertson Davies since my early twenties, when my alternately terrifying and delightful supervisor at the Pacific Lumber Company recommended Fifth Business to me. While all of Davies’s mature novels (the Deptford trilogy and the Cornish trilogy, as well as The Cunning Man) have commonalities with my own novel in their explorations of creativity and the psyche, here I’m recommending The Lyre of Orpheus. Why? It tells the simultaneously comic and deep story of a group of foundation directors who find themselves sponsoring and even helping script an opera begun by E.T.A. Hoffmann, now to be completed by their protégé, a brilliant but obnoxious and somewhat gender-ambiguous young composer. Davies’s account of the opera’s genesis and production helped me create my characters’ own theater piece.

Pastoral is one of my favorite recent discoveries. It’s one of a quincunx of novels linked by exploration of five classic literary genres—in this case the currently unfashionable pastoral. Newly ordained priest Christopher Pennant isn’t greatly pleased that his first parish assignment is to a rural town where sheep are numerous. He assumes he’ll be a suitable shepherd to the humans, people he expects to be simple and straightforward. Of course, they aren’t. They’re not only as complex as people anywhere else, but very unexpected. Father Pennant not only finds he has a self-appointed cello-playing chef as rectory caretaker, but he witnesses three possible miracles. Or are they trickery? I love the depth and gentle humor in the priest’s attempts to understand his parishioners and himself. And nature, too.

I loved this multi-generational book about family, love, and finding yourself in the most unexpected ways.

The characters are so well-developed, and the New Jersey Shore setting is downright dreamy. Marilyn is a strong and inspiring protagonist. I couldn’t put it down, but also did not want this book to end!

Who doesn’t love a good coming-of-age story—especially one set on the beautiful, summery, and storied beaches of Cape Cod?

It’s the type of location I find irresistible. Set in the 1980s, the book centers on a young, aspiring novelist named Eve who crosses path with a literary power couple at their Cape Cod home. She lands a job as a research assistant, falls in love with their intriguing son, and scores an invitation to their famous book party.

This novel made me nostalgic for the time I was Eve’s age, full of dreams and waiting for the world to open its arms to me! So atmospheric and evocative!

I was transported back to a time that I don’t often think about, a time that was magical while it lasted. I didn’t want the book to end!

I was one of those women who was obsessed with Oprah’s Book Club. She started it in 1996, the same year I started my sophomore year of college. I can’t say that I read every book assigned to me in my classes, but I damn sure as hell read every book Oprah recommended.

White Oleander was picked in May 1999, just a few months before my wedding. I did zero wedding planning the week I read that book. I ignored my soon-to-be husband and called my sisters to demand that they read the book. The story, which follows Astrid (why did my parents name me such a terrible ugly name like Courtney when Astrid was right there?) as she navigates foster care following her mother’s conviction for murder, is compelling. However, I fell in love with the prose and the way Finch describes the people and places in the novel.… show more.

This book is just pure, sexy, chaotic fun (with sapphic monster ladies, of course). I’m an absolute sucker for a good genre-bender, and this one is not only chock-full of a variety of monsters, but it’s also a mystery, a comedy, an erotica, and a kind of Bildungsroman all rolled into one.

I laughed out loud more than once when reading this, and certain twists were executed so well that they had me flipping back to the beginning to find the clever foreshadowing. Also, the monsters are plentiful and their interactions are an absolute blast.

This was the book that made Jemma Topaz an insta-buy author for me.

Jo Walton is a wonderfully humanistic storyteller with a deep knowledge of history and art who excels at creating alternate societies, and I was fascinated to see her work on a deliberately smaller, more intimate scale in this novel. The text is made up of the diary entries of Morgana, a precocious teenager who is a voracious science fiction and fantasy reader, as is Jason Velez in my novel. Though published in 2011, the book begins at the end of the 70s and perfectly captures the period.

Among Others excels at character development. It feels like a literary mainstream novel about a young person–imagine, say, the best of Judy Blume–smartly mixed in with glimpses of the fantastic. It wears its love for 70s science fiction on its sleeve and won the Hugo and Nebula awards. 

I had been married for many years when I read this book and still found it to be funny, funny, funny. More than just a romance, I love the way she incorporates issues with family and job and life always in a humorous way. Written at the height of the chick-lit era ( a genre I love) the book follows Ashely Stockingdale, a successful 31-year-old woman wondering if she will ever find true love.