100 Books Like Sorrowland

What intrigues me about this book is the way the author, Margaret Atwood, took the (Genesis 30) story of Jacob, who impregnated his wife's handmaiden to produce the children which his wife could not conceive.

She then puts herself in the place of that handmaiden and asks some serious questions. Was that handmaid even given a choice in the matter? What would have happened to her if she had refused? She then rolls the same idea forward 4,000 years to a pseudo religious society in which the sole purpose of handmaidens is to use their bodies to conceive and gestate the next generation for those whom they serve.

I have never read a novel so close to prophecy.

Published in 1995, Parable starts in July 2024 amidst the election of an autocrat who, by the sequel Parable of the Talents, literally pledges to “make America great again.” I started my platform in 2015 in the same context.

This novel pulled me into its harrowing tale of how to survive civilizational collapse: the dismantling of systems, norms, and climate change that we are all currently going through.

The lesson is ultimately about embracing change, caring for and trusting each other in community, and coming up with our own ways of being together. So many of our ancestors have survived periods of collapse by the same principles. These ancestral lessons still guide me, and I believe are critical to surviving AI dystopia.

People kept telling me to read it, so I finally did–just in time to include it on this list. Rotating narrators–a White missionary’s wife and four daughters from the American South–represent disparate points of view concerning their family’s move to the Belgian Congo in 1959.

One thing I loved is the attention to historical detail and Kingsolver’s ability to include multiple, complex subplots to better frame the colonial history of this particular time/place and to better demonstrate the insidious ongoing brutality of colonization in terms of inequitable global wealth.

Language and religion play a major role in the plundering resource extraction industries, as do political and military interference, apartheid, and so much more. I loved her exploration of language(s): the power held in naming and misnaming. The youngest daughter sums it up best. “My life: what I stole from history, and how I live with it.” Characters are primarily White… show more.

I love Miriam Toews’ work and had no clue about this book’s subject matter when I first picked it up. The premise: over the course of forty-eight hours, eight Mennonite women secretly gather to decide the fate of all women and children in their remote colony. Since the women are illiterate, their conversation is recorded (and the book narrated) by gentle misfit August Epp.

We learn with increasing horror what has driven the women to this subversive precipice, and we learn in the book’s forward that Toews is responding, however fictionally, to actual events that transpired at the Mennonite Manitoba Colony in Bolivia between 2005-2009. (Gisèle Pelicot’s recent ordeal proves this particular type of sexual violence is no anomaly).

In this book, Toews’ full humanity is on display: rage, grief, humor, and tender wisdom, which radiates through masterful dialogue, brilliant characterization, and taut scene work. It is a radical work… show more.

It was a brilliant decision on Natalie's part to create a graphic novel that lays out the many facets and layers that make up the dynamics of cults. It has been a pleasure for me to get to know Natalie. A former member of the Jehovah's Witnesses, she is now a dynamic and independent individual. This graphic novel explores a wide variety of aspects of the tactics used by Jehovah's Witnesses, including shunning, the reasons why cult family members will disavow non-cult family members, and a great deal more. This seemed to me to be an excellent option for storytelling geared for minds that have a tendency to gravitate toward visuals.

I had to read this when it came out because it felt ripped from the headlines. Sarah Lai has left behind her Hollywood dreams of filmmaking for a quieter, simpler life. But a journalist reaches out and drags her past to the forefront by asking questions about Sarah’s experiences working with a celebrated producer. There have been… complaints. From women. A lot of women.

Sound familiar? This is a wholly fictional take on past events, but it also forces the reader to examine the ways in which we might be complicit in holding up systems, and what we can do to break bad patterns.

Engaging, timely, and I couldn’t put it down. Again, women find their voices and stand up for other women around them. That’s a narrative I can’t miss. 

This book is about political intrigue and control. I was lured into austere Florentine rooms where, behind wooden panels, ears were listening to every conversation. In darkened medieval streets, I heard footsteps following footsteps, and in great palaces, men with power did as they pleased.

Katherine Mezzacappa has captured the oppressive mood beautifully, setting the scene for the lovely Guilia to emerge and change everything. Her innocence evolves into wisdom, keeping me, the reader, totally engaged and hoping for her salvation.

This book grabbed me by the collar and wouldn’t let me go. As in, I read it cover to cover, read it again, and find myself still thinking about it long after I read it. Now, full disclosure: this is not a happy-go-lucky romp. Suspenseful and tense, political and personal—this love story between Dani and Carmen was a can’t put it down, stay up all night reading experience for me.

Told from Dani’s point of view during a tumultuous time, the decisions she faced have all the more resonance for me as the political climate of our country and the world rapidly changes. If you’re thinking, why is this book on a list about more than one point of view, please see my next recommendation!

This novel caught my eye for one simple reason—the protagonist attempts to destroy her society with a spreadsheet. Although a fantasy in which the modern world (even office life) is divided between heroes and villains, this novel lands on some brutal truths—like the difference between good and evil is mostly marketing and that some people will do anything for the right job. 

It’s a hilarious book that pokes fun at the most absurd bosses, the things we do for work, and the real harm a toxic workplace or system causes everyone. The supervillain/hero context provides food for thought without slowing the story down or causing work-related cold sweats.

This unexpected discovery—the story of Meg of St. Michael’s Mead in the 14th century—exemplifies the best of what draws readers to historical fiction. First, there's the heroine, Meg, a young woman coming of age and marked by a facial disfigurement. Immediately, we understand her outsider status, her alienation, and her inevitable struggle against others' scapegoating.

This scapegoating stems not only from typical ignorance but also from the very real fears of the time that she might be a child of the Devil. Meg's life and journey are populated with memorable allies and enemies, but it's her determination to cultivate her talents in women's health—despite the opposition of the male medical elite—that lends her story contemporary relevance.