Books like The Drinker — picked by fans

The plot of this book seems simple enough. A guy goes to Vegas to drink himself to death, but whilst there, he develops a relationship with a prostitute. Now, if this were Hollywood, they’d end up eloping and starting a new life together. Yet, whilst there is indeed an excellent Hollywood adaptation of it starring Nicholas Cage, it is no less bleaker than the novel it is based on. A novel that was written by an alcoholic who killed himself and whose book was called a suicide note by his father.

Despite its sadness, however, the book is beautifully written. Aside from its doomed romance, it also has a romantic sense of being doomed, which I like.

Told with unflinching honesty, this dark Japanese classic is often considered a kind of suicide note by its author, who killed himself shortly before its publication.

Whilst I cannot say that I’ve necessarily gone through some of the extreme experiences of its protagonist, I can nevertheless say that I’ve experienced a very similar sense of alienation, which has at times made me feel less than human, making this one of the most relatable books that I have ever read.

Considering its contents, I should probably not tell that to my psychiatrist. I'm just kidding; I don’t have one. However, considering the book’s classic status, it seems that I am far from the only one who relates to its author’s struggles.

It takes courage to name your book that. Especially in the 90s before self-publishing became a thing. Which did not stop its renegade author from selling xeroxed copies of it in the streets.

Its titular protagonist, who is jobless and homeless after his girlfriend kicks him out, is based on the author himself. He struggles with feelings of inadequacy and a sense of purposelessness. He works odd jobs, writes an occasional poem, meets eccentric strangers, engages in substance abuse, and gets into sticky situations on account of his bad decisions.

While I don’t know about you, I can strongly relate to the character. The book's dark humor is also enough to make it one of my favorites.

This book is about a heroin addict. However, you don’t need to be a heroin addict to sympathize with its protagonist’s existential weariness—or ennui, as the French call it. I know I do. After exiting a rehabilitation clinic, he wanders around listlessly, visiting friends and acquaintances, trying to find a reason to go on, yet finding none.

The story may be better known for the excellent film adaptation by Louis Malle—which switches heroin for alcohol—yet the terse and evocative writing of the original novel nevertheless packs a punch. The fact that the protagonist was closely inspired by the author’s friend lends an element of authenticity to it, making his suffering all the more relevant.

Jim Thompson’s novel is arguably San Diego’s greatest classic noir work.

While not a crime novel, it captures wartime San Diego through the glass darkly, and I was moved and unsettled by Thompson’s unsparing forays into the alienation of those who were the most exploited in the city.

I sat on a twin bed in rehab, turned to the back of the book, one of the personal stories published in the book, and felt like the narrator came out of the book, sat across from me, and told me her story.

Bill W. and Dr. Bob started a miracle fellowship that led millions like me to recover. However, every chapter in the book can be anyone’s story. Unfortunately, many people feel that if they don't have a drug or alcohol problem, then they have “no problems.” 

I read every story; I wanted to believe I had a chance if these people had straightened out their lives and were happy about it. In the beginning, the chapters were tough-hitting in defining how we honestly forget humility, gratitude, and simple service that leads to fulfilling lives.

I can read this book over and over again, and I do. 

One alcoholic helping another is the way the 12 Step program works.

This book explores Steps 6 and 7 from the personal experiences of others in recovery. It helped me examine my defects, you know, the rocks I held that were sinking me. But I am not alone in my quest to drop these rocks.

This book includes personal stories that let me know how others have overcome the same roadblocks as myself. They talk to me, addressing my need to spiritually surrender my shortcomings. Various insights help contribute to my sobriety which, after all, is what I strive for in a clean and sober life.

I resonate so deeply with Craig’s journey. His ability to maintain a thriving career and family life while sliding deeper into addiction for two decades was so relatable and inspiring.

His refusal to conform to the stereotypical image of an "alcoholic" echoes my own sentiments, and his courage in sharing his story is truly remarkable. This personal connection made his story a source of genuine inspiration and joy for me.

A really great short story collection can sweep you off your feet and take you to a lot of different places, in a way that novels can't quite manage. And Swamy's debut collection is haunting in the best possible way. These dreamlike stories feature characters who are lost and dislocated, carried along by other people's desires, and the best of them have something to say about art as well as relationships. In one story, an artist who is descending into alcoholism gets into a relationship with the god Krishna, and in another, a "laughter artist" has perfected her laughter to the point where all laughter seems artificial. Swamy conveys the feeling of being lost but seen, in a really beautiful, arresting way.

In a world where addiction is associated with “abuse” and “addicts” are often depicted as morally depraved, physically unfit, and mentally unsound, it’s not difficult to figure out why people suffering from addiction – and their family members– are in denial. They simply don’t fit the stereotype. When Terry McGovern, daughter of Senator George McGovern, was a college student, she drank an average of five or six beers, three or four shots of hard liquor, or a bottle of wine every day. Despite her increasingly heavy drinking, occasional marijuana and barbiturate use, and suicidal behavior, Terry’s psychotherapist did not believe that she was an alcoholic; instead, he diagnosed her underlying problems as depression and unresolved psychological conflicts – a clear case of “professional denial.” It’s a fact that many of us have experienced childhood trauma. But when drug use continues despite serious and recurring problems, the “real problem” that must… show more.