Books like The Crying of Lot 49 — picked by fans

This book gave me two pleasures: following its story and discovering how ingeniously that story had been assembled.

Its 127 short chapters sometimes contain little more than an idea, a joke, or a shift in perspective. At first, they require some patience. A few may seem disconnected or even unnecessary, but gradually they build upon one another like pieces of a mosaic.

Vonnegut leaves me room to assemble the whole, connecting science, religion, politics, and catastrophe without explaining every link. The form made me an active reader rather than a passive one. Its compression creates space for me to participate while allowing every absurdity to land with greater force.

Overstuffed and labyrinthine, Eco’s novel dives into a highly academic rabbit hole of conspiracy theories that toss me head over heels like a strong wave in the ocean. It reads a bit like The DaVinci Code written by Thomas Pynchon (who we’ll get to in a minute), the paranoias stemming from historical entities like the Knights Templar and the Rosicrucians.

I’d be hard-pressed to provide an accurate summary of events, but it all makes for a pleasantly bewildering reading experience.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or stage an intervention. This book introduced me to Ignatius J. Reilly, a character so insufferable and absurdly grandiose that I kept turning pages just to see how much worse he could get. I was horrified and hypnotized. I couldn’t look away.

What I love about this book is that it doesn’t ask you to like anyone. It asks you to witness the glorious wreckage of human delusion. It is chaotic, bloated, brilliant, and somehow still moving. Toole gave me a character I wanted to strangle, and a novel I wanted to reread. That kind of friction is rare, and I live for it.

This was difficult to do well, but Ackroyd makes it work–and he makes it look easy: One half of the story is told in a very idiosyncratic version of early eighteenth-century English (the other half in contemporary English). The level of sheer craftsmanship is impressive.

The story gripped me: a serial killer mystery with touches of the occult and supernatural. London is a haunted place in this story, but not only the victims of the past but also the killers are still with us today. We come to understand that our entire world is built on the flawed achievements of the past.

Dashiell Hammett is one of the great stylists in American literature.

His characters are absolutely real, and the plot is a wonderful tour of the seamy side of 20th-century America. What I absolutely love about this story is that it ends, not with the apprehension of a killer, but with the sense that the pursuit of mystery in the first place was not worth it.

To pull this off—to undercut the idea of a mystery at all, is a great achievement. The book, then, is stunning for its characters, descriptions, and serpentine plot.

It is difficult to imagine a list of great novels about the Middle Ages that does not include this book.

I read it first when I was in graduate school, and it brought so much of what I was studying to life – the monastic world of its setting with all its contradictions and spectacular architecture; fights over religion and the true nature of spirituality; the non-linear nature of medieval literature. 

I love how it can be read on one level as a page-turny murder mystery and on another as a post-modern novel that explores the nature of signs and meaning. Its mystificatory preface reveals the distance between the medieval world and what we can say about it.

This is my all-time favourite book.

I own two physical copies – one paperback and a special edition hardback that released for a recent anniversary. It’s Stephen King’s debut, but you wouldn’t know it since he was already so comfortable with his writing and understanding his voice. I love that the story isn’t told through conventional means but using news reports and journals.

Carrie White is a character I can relate to, not because I secretly have powers – I don’t, I promise – but because she is the oddball, the type of person who doesn’t fit in. She’s the exaggerated poster child of why bullying is bad, but the book holds one very special message at its core – what does it cost to be nice?

Carrie is shown throughout as this sweet and simple girl who longs for connection, and we see the slow breakdown of her character… show more.

I first read this book as a teenager and missed the full force of its ferocious satire. Re-reading it years later, I laughed out loud. Waugh’s genius is to set his story of a love triangle in a Los Angeles funeral home. This way, he gets to poke fun at Hollywood and the American funeral industry while giving the dead a prominent role in the drama.

When, for example, embalmer Mr. Joyboy starts wooing young cosmetician Aimée Thanatogenos, he does it through the expressions he puts on the faces of the corpses he sends to her makeup studio. When Aimée falls for his rival, a poet and pet mortician, the beatific smiles of Mr. Joyboy’s death turn into ghastly grimaces. It’s one of my favorite moments in the book—but there are many more.

This book is perfect. Every single poem in it is a home run.

It taught me that meter and rhyme are just as effective at portraying our contemporary experiences as they were for experiences of yore. And so much of the poems’ charge comes from living idiom—the English spoken right “now” at an actual point in time.

I’ve rarely found myself rooting so much for a detective. The novel chronicles one man’s lonely and obsessive hunt for a child murderer in 1950s Switzerland. This is a thrilling, fast-paced read, and some of the scenes affected me deeply.

Beyond the plot, however, what I find most compelling are the story’s explorations of the nature of evil and the role of chance in human life. Reason is put to a severe test in this story about a world full of darkness and chaos.