Books like The Confessions — picked by fans

Many an idealistic young law student like me felt that jolt in our spine early on when we saw up in the balcony of that courthouse a sleepy Scout being told, “Stand up, Jean Louise. Your father’s passin’.”

The movie is as faithful to the novel as the medium would allow. The novel is told entirely from Scout’s POV and not only focuses upon the racism of the time and place, but also upon her coming of age as a tomboy and being told to act “As a little girl should.”

The book offers more to those of us for whom the rule of law and not of men is a passion, especially in Finch’s closing: “There is one human institution that makes a pauper the equal of Rockefeller, a stupid man the equal of Einstein… That institution, gentlemen, is a court.” 

This well-written book taught me a great deal about WW2. I especially appreciated learning more about Mary Churchill, Winston’s youngest daughter, who was seventeen at the start of the war. The author obtained access to her diaries, and he quotes from them often, so I got a feel for the life of a young woman in society during wartime. Mary had a conscience and good insights and became a main character in this historical book.

It’s not a novel, but at times it reads like one.  

This book has captured my interest and my heart for a long time. You may wonder what a book about a great president is doing in a list of the best small “L” leadership books. Here is the reason: I get many powerful principles and practices of small “L” leadership–things I can use in my family, at church, and in my professional life–every time I read this book (and I have read it three times!).

It doesn’t hurt that the writing is beautiful! I love the writing, and I love to see how Lincoln created an effective team in his cabinet composed of all of his rivals for the presidential nomination with small and simple things. Amazing!

After all of these years, I am still staggered by the emotional weight of this book.

Samwise Gamgee is the definition of faithful. I hope to someday have a small measure of the ability to create a character like Sam.

There is so much power and majesty in this story. I spent half my time analyzing everything I read each day. The complexity of the main characters was brilliantly written. I loved their interactions, their growth, their companionships, and their hopes for each other’s well-being and success. Their individual character arcs are timeless. 

I first knew of The Hobbit through the 70’s cartoon and then later about the Lord of the Rings cartoon. I finally read all four books in my early 20s. I can’t imagine what my life would be like without some of the lessons I learned by reading the LotR series. And especially the incredible scenes of… show more.

OK, true; I prefer the first two-thirds when Augustine is still unconverted and far from saintly and could do without the pieties of the end. Yes, Augustine is responsible for making the doctrine of “original sin” part of the Western cultural inheritance—but still, what a journey.

The honesty, humility, and candor about his lusts, addictions, pride, and resistance to personal growth; the vivid evocations of life in Roman north Africa in the fourth century; and the home truths about uninformed arrogance; and the final surrender that allows grace to flow in, by whatever name—all make this a timeless and moving account of the real possibilities of human development that I drink up and cherish, even if it is steeped in an alien theology. 

Like for Aristotle, this is no easy read, but Augustine must be credited with planting in the clearest and most dramatic way the central doubt: cannot we want and do something merely for the sake of the evil or wrong we would commit?

His story of the pear theft is bound to leave an impression on anyone, regardless of one’s religious background. Later Christian philosophers will try to get around Augustine’s doubts, with more or less success.

This is a powerful memoir. First published in French in 2016, one year after Mokhtar Mokhtefi’s death, it is an eyewitness account of twentieth-century Algeria, tracing his political journey from a poor village south of Algiers, through to the French secondary education, one of the few Muslims to do so, and his eventual engagement in the FLN in 1957. Graphically portraying the anger and disaffection that drives Algerians to rebel against French rule, the book is equally unsparing about the divisions and authoritarianism which riddle the National Liberation Front and shape post-independence Algeria. Beautifully translated by his widow, the writer and anti-imperialist activist Elaine Mokhtefi. 

In this book, Werenfels explains how elite dynamics and tactics work in the Algerian political system and how they have led to the lack of significant political change since the country returned to the democratic process in 1995. Werenfels analyses the coping mechanisms of the highly opaque authoritarian elite in a shifting local and global environment building on evidence from extensive research. This book planted the seed of an idea for what the topic of my own book would be and how I wanted to structure it. 

James McDougall’s History of Algeria gives an excellent overview of Algerian history, focusing on the lived experiences of the Algerian people over the last 500 years.

He does this with an easily readable style, offering acute insights and drawing on the personal experiences of those who lived through world-changing movements. He covers the War of Independence and the revolutionary transformations which ensued in Algeria, and across the continent, by that long and heroic struggle.

This is not only a beautifully written book, it is an important one. Why? Because it poses challenging questions about the promise of post-independence freedom for Algerian women through a collection of short stories written between 1959 and 1978. First published in French in 1980, the writing style is at once innovative, lyrical, and unsettling as Assia Djebar explores the condition of Algerian women across the pre-colonial, colonial and immediate post-colonial periods. The inspiration for the book is Eugène Delacroix’s 1834 painting of women in an Algerian harem because, as Djebar explains in the post-face, this picture leads her straight to the conundrum of 1970s Algeria: “What would Delacroix see if he entered into contemporary Algerian apartments?” And for her the depressing conclusion is that he would still find women locked up and shut away just as in the 1830s. One of the most significant voices to emerge from Algeria,… show more.