87 Books like The Big Man

Ludington’s book is exciting because it disproves pervasive ideas about wine consumption. One of the big assumptions in the history of commodities is that middle-class people want to imitate elites, and that taste trickles down the social ladder.

Ludington shows that the opposite was true 250 years ago in England and Scotland: aristocrats started changing their wine-buying habits to appear more sympathetic to the middling sort. This trickle-up is an eighteenth-century equivalent of affluent hipsters drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon or fashionistas buying $400 jeans.

I’m the type of reader who finishes each sentence thinking yeah, but how do we know that?, so I find Ludington’s generous footnotes and detailed cellar inventories to be deeply satisfying. This is not an easy read, but it’s a thoroughly enriching one.   

Hard Nox is set in Scotland and is brilliantly written. It's the start of series two and I fell in love with the world that Jolie had built. I did put this book down a few chapters in to find the first book of the first series. I wanted to read them in order and I'm so glad I did. It was hard at the time to find books showing the Scots dialect and Jolie does it well. So much so, I'm one of her ARC readers and I have started collecting the paperback copies. This is my favourite of all her books.

I’ve never read anything like The Living Mountain. A book that is, at once, an autobiography of a remarkable yet under-celebrated woman writer and an exploration of the ecstasies of experiencing the world through the body and its senses.

In gorgeously vivid prose, Shepherd invites us to pursue depth over breadth and to rely upon our felt experience as a way of knowing in the world. This book challenges dominant “hero’s journey” narratives in both content and form and suggests that all we yearn to experience and know can be found right where we find ourselves, wherever that may be. 

This is a timeless volume of classic Scottish folktales. Judy Paterson has wisely chosen a diverse and enthralling selection of folk stories from Scotland.

Her writing style is superb for children aged 7 plus. She blends her literary skills with an intimate knowledge of Children's literacy needs. They are sensitively chosen stories, nothing overtly scary, but some are supernatural enough for bed covers to be pulled up if needed.

Children will adore the beautiful pictures and the carefully crafted attention to detail within each tale. I particularly loved her tender descriptions of horses. I recommend this book to anyone (children and adults) who want to enjoy Scottish folklore and folktales.

Read this book, and you will be initiated into the Celtic world of myths, giants, kelpies, fairies, and supernatural creatures.

Witch Wood tells the story of a high-minded, ardent and scholarly young Presbyterian minister, David Sempill, who is called to a benighted Tweeddale parish in 1645 at the time of the War of Three Kingdoms, and how his desire to root out covert witchcraft amongst some of his most ‘devout’ parishioners at a time of civil war and plague leads to tragedy and exile. The Marquis of Montrose, on whose biography John Buchan was working at the same time, has a walk-on part in the story. John Buchan considered this his best work of fiction, and I agree.

MacBride’s seminal debut introduces readers not only to an erstwhile hero and a stunning ensemble of secondary characters, but also his wonderful descriptions of a foul Aberdeen winter.

Scattered in among the narrative are little vignettes that elevate the whole story with his excellent turn of phrase. Since reading this novel, his books have become must reads for me, even if the Aberdeen Tourist Board don’t have him on their Christmas card list.

This is the debut novel by Ely Percy, and tells the story of Kirsty Campbell, an ordinary Scottish girl as she navigates her way through high school in Renfrewshire.

An extremely relatable novel, it is told in short, buzzy chapters, and I love it for relating the best of what a Scottish working-class childhood can give you – resilience, humour, and the will to succeed. The book covers issues like teen pregnancy, drugs, and violence, but it does so without lecturing; rather, it celebrates what it means to be brought up in contemporary, working-class Scotland.

I picked up this book for its Scottish setting and gothic vibes (which did not disappoint!), but I devoured the book because of the characters who I was rooting for from page one.

It’s such a surprise and pleasure to read a large cast of (queer) women, each uniquely-drawn and with their own distinct desires and personalities. The setting of the book is brilliant as well–I cannot resist a book set in a Scottish forest. The story is threaded through with folklore, adding another layer to the gothic atmosphere. 

This novel reminds the reader that humans have carried certain truths from the dawn of time. It tells the story of Phaedrus, a slave from birth. When he gains his wooden-foil of freedom in the gladiatorial arena, he finds his life suddenly empty, and without purpose. This results in him agreeing to assume another’s identity. Not simply ‘another’s identity’ but to become a ‘king’ of the Dal Riada people of Scotland. Phaedrus, to his surprise, discovers leadership gives his life true purpose, friendship, and love. But the time comes when he must show himself worthy of the Mark of the Horse Lord. Beautifully told, the novel speaks of how sacredness and self-sacrifice intertwine for those who truly rule. 

Whilst I’ve enjoyed most of Irvine Welsh’s books, The Acid House (a collection of short stories) is my favourite because it so accurately crystallises a particular culture, place and time.

The stories are set in Edinburgh and its environs during a period when I was living in a village nearby. My familiarity with the settings made The Acid House feel intimate, sometimes unsettlingly so. I love the way each story blends the real and the surreal. There are drugs and booze galore, of course, as well as brutality and revenge, but the author’s savvy wit and incisive dialogue give these tales gravitas, authenticity and philosophical depth.

I laughed when a couple of years ago I witnessed “Scotland’s top cop” (in the spoof police documentary Scot Squad) sum up Irvine Welsh’s written output as “monkey gibberish” – the barely concealed glee with which that phrase was delivered by comedian Jack… show more.