100 Books Like The Annotated Hans Christian Andersen

Nothing much seems to happen in this remarkable novella, which describes a single lunch break of a man at work.

Actually, though, the reader gets to eavesdrop on the man’s ruminations about everyday things—shoelaces, bathroom blow dryers, vending machines, office supplies, and so much more.

These ruminations are practically Proustian; they start with something ordinary (a milk carton), followed by a digression (memories of having milk delivered to his home), interrupted by another digression (about his sister’s milk allergy), and veering into philosophical territory (pondering the nature of all childhood memories).

Reading this novella is both exhausting and exhilarating. It’s like wandering haphazardly through a maze of ideas and memories. Luckily, the novella is short enough that the reader never grows bored or tired.

I stumbled upon this incredible book that explored the parallels between ancient Eastern philosophy and Western psychology.

Thinkers like Zhuangzi and Laozi understood that not trying paradoxically can improve performance and focus. Indolence can be another way to release one’s mind to the ebbs and flows of the outside world. Honestly, it was a delicious surprise to realize that the ancient philosophers had so much to say about human indolence.

A fiction writer instinctively overthinks what he is writing about, but this book helped me to stop worrying about word counts or writer’s block and just accept that words come out eventually… sometimes as a trickle and sometimes as a roar.

This is one of my all-time favorite reads.

Ideally, novels are supposed to provide escape and insight, but sometimes a hefty novel can seem too ponderous a commitment for lazy people.

As an alternative, flash fiction can accommodate people who have failing attention spans or inflexible schedules. Sure, it won’t be as engrossing or uplifting as a 900-page novel, but it’s easy to dive into a random page and enjoy the magical possibilities of prose.

Yourgrau’s flash fictions are more playful than plausible. (Example: “A man comes home and finds his wife in bed with a squirrel.”) Good flash fiction doesn’t need a lot of action, just surrealistic touches and a surprising moment or two.

Eventually, after a few good laughs, you’ll be ready to read something longer and meatier.

Not much happens in this light-hearted 1965 children’s book by an award-winning poet.

A solitary hunter befriends (and shares an abode with) a mermaid, a bear, a lynx, and a young boy. They live together, totally unbound by human rules. The hunter teaches human language to the mermaid and learns about the perspective of undersea creatures.

The mermaid is a perfect audience for the animals’ wild antics and the hunter’s strange human habits. She finds it hilarious that the hunter uses a fishing pole to catch fish. (“You look so helpless just sitting there waiting for one,” she says.)

This clever and carefree story lacks plot or incident, but it captures the absurdity of different kinds of creatures living under the same roof.

In focusing on her daughter, Luise, a mother, Dorrit Cato, in this extraordinary book captures all that is going wrong and getting worse in medical care today. Very early on you know what is going to happen and feel powerless to stop it. Maybe I feel this way so much because I see it happening every day. I’ve bought lots of copies and given Dear Luise to many working in healthcare, who have found it equally raw. If you only have minimal encounters with healthcare or encounters where things have gone well, you may find this story sad but think it a rare exception. Trust me, in mental healthcare today Dear Luise is the norm, and tomorrow it will be the norm for all of health.   

This book is about “The Danish universe of meaning,” or, the view of the world as it is has been captured by Danish words and meanings. The work includes deep semantic analysis of cultural constructs such as hygge, roughly, ‘pleasant togetherness’ and tryghed, roughly, ‘sense of security, peace of mind,’ as well as cognitive verbs, emotion adjectives, personhood constructs, and rhetorical keywords. But Levisen’s aim is not only to study Danish—at heart, the book is about cultural semantics at large. The aim is to use Danish as a case study and to provide a new model for comparative research into the diversity and unity of meaning in European languages. To my mind, this book wonderfully succeeds in achieving this aim.

When I think of Kierkegaard, his story with Regina Olsen, his fiancée, always comes to mind.

What happened during and after their courtship will forever mark the life and work of an author who is considered by many to be the father of existentialism and a key figure in understanding the crisis of modernity in which we are immersed.

Philosopher of the Heart is not just a biography; it's a philosophical exploration that invites readers to engage with Kierkegaard's questions about our individual existence and the search for meaning. 

I loved the character of Harald Olufsen, an 18-year-old reluctant spy. The characters' interactions, a blend of cooperation and conflict, created a narrative of brinksmanship that thrilled me. The author's use of suspense in an adventure story held me spellbound.

Among countless war stories, this small one provided a fresh perspective that I found engrossing. Follett is an acknowledged master of historical fiction, but this book is my favorite of all his works.

Since I’ve traveled a lot above the Arctic Circle, I relish a good Nordic noir.

Smilla, part Greenlander and part Dane travels from Copenhagen back to Greenland on a quest for truth about a brutal death deemed an accident.

The gripping ending included elements I found fascinating, Inuit culture, human evil, and extreme weather. 

While Snorri wrote in his native Old Norse in Iceland, unbeknownst to him, a Danish writer remembered as Saxo the Grammarian ('Grammaticus') was writing a monumental history of the Danish kingdom in Latin. Since the old gods were held to be the ancestors of the royal families of medieval Scandinavia, Saxo spends quite a bit of time in the first nine books of 'The History of the Danes' retelling their stories. Many fans of Norse mythology who read the Eddas still never approach Saxo's work, which in fact has been mined in recent centuries for many rich details that are preserved nowhere else. Like Snorri, Saxo tries to "rationalize" the old gods into becoming misguided or deceitful human beings from the distant past, and he does a more thorough job of it, but even through this veneer, it is hard not to recognize the same characters that we know from… show more.