100 Books Like The Eight Mountains

The Snow Leopard portrays a spiritual quest as much as a physical journey.

Peter Matthiessen went to the Himalayas in search of the elusive snow leopard in 1973. He relates his personal circumstances like a sledgehammer on the book’s third page, stating in matter-of-fact terms that his wife had just died of cancer. I will never forget reading The Snow Leopard at the outset of my own journey from Stockholm to the far north of Sweden, inside the Arctic Circle, where a friend and I were set to undertake a long backpacking trip to celebrate my 40th birthday.

This remarkable book was my companion and helped me understand that the mountains are not there to be conquered. To the extent they take notice of human beings at all, they exist to help us learn and grow: to discover what Matthiessen called “the common miracles,” like the satisfaction of a day… show more.

A life in the wild entails sacrifice in addition to romance.

Few readers would think of Wallace Stegner’s 1971 Pulitzer Prize winner as a book about the mountains. Its narrator is an elderly man confined to a wheelchair who spends his days researching a biography. Yet his fascinating subject is his frontier-era grandmother, Susan Burling Ward, who gave up a life among sophisticates on the East Coast to follow her husband, a geological engineer, into the mountains of the West. There she found beauty and adventure, but also isolation from the culture and society she had left behind. Are the mountains enough to sustain us without such things?

I read this book in the year after my father died; it was one of his favorites and tied together many of his own interests: genealogy, research, books, family, and the outdoors. Angle of Repose is a long novel and the characters… show more.

Never lose your sense of adventure.

Caesar of the New Yorker tells the almost unbelievable story of Maurice Wilson, who in 1933 bought a biplane, flew it halfway around the world from England to Nepal, and attempted to climb Mount Everest by himself. Of course, he did not succeed—Sir Edmund Hilary and Tenzing Norgay made the first summit of Everest 20 years later—but Wilson carried out his attempt with rare panache.

I read this book with a mixture of astonishment and joy. So much of mountaineering literature is about over-serious people taking themselves far too seriously. Wilson, by contrast, liked to wear costumes and disguises, and outrun the authorities bent on stopping him in almost caper fashion. Whatever else the mountains are, they ought to be fun.

One of the most underrated novels of the twentieth century.

Patrick O’Brian is known first and foremost for his exceptional Aubrey-Maturin series about the British Navy during the age of sail. I love those books as much as any on my shelf. Yet before he found his way to that subject, O’Brian wrote other novels, including this exquisite love story set in a Welsh mountain valley.

Published in 1952, Testimonies is haunting, tragic, and remarkably self-assured. It captures as well as any book the romance of the mountains and their invigorating effect on the spirit: “the vast country opened and strengthened my being in ways that I had never imagined. Many things that had appeared all-important dwindled to trifles, and other values rose.” I return to this book frequently and often give it as a gift.

To be fair, I read this book on a summer holiday in Cinque Terre, Italy, which perhaps made the experience even more dreamy and lush.

This is a modern love story that celebrates the desire of its female protagonist, and makes no apologies for her ability to take what she wants - in the form of her current romantic partner’s father. The story contains nuance and delicacy, and talks about relationships with honesty and vulnerability.

There is an undercurrent of grief here, as well, which bonds our lovers, and makes the lightness of the romance that much deeper.

This is actually just the first book of Ferrante’s four Neapolitan novels, which tell a single riveting story of two girls, Lila and Lenù, from a depressed Naples neighborhood. Lenù is the narrator, taking us through fifty years of friendship and the latter half of the 20th century. (Her actual name is Elena, like the author—another doubling, especially since she writes under a pseudonym.)

I am a sucker for event: a lot happens and we get to know a huge cast of characters from the neighborhood. But our anchors are these two friends and rivals, vibrant and injured, striving to transcend their origins.

This is one of those books I am in awe of. Deeply immersive, I had to be pried away from this story once I began. The writing is spectacular and an absolute masterclass on writing chemistry between characters and writing young love.

This book falls on nearly any top-five list of mine. It is truly stunning and heartbreaking in turn. (Sorry, this isn’t a very light list, is it??) But to me, what makes love stories powerful is all the ways that love can be lost, the truth that love can be fleeting, impossible to hold onto forever, even if you have spent a lifetime with the one you love, at some point we all have to say goodbye. This is what makes love so beautiful.

Bruiser is only nine years old, younger than most “coming of age” protagonists, but his anxiety-ridden family life in a Manhattan apartment has aged him. His father is a philanderer who rarely is home and often physically abusive when he is; his mother is a deeply depressed poet. Bruiser spends most of his time running around his Upper West Side neighborhood with a make-shift gang of older boys—and has the bruises to show for it, hence his nickname—or hiding at the bottom of the clothes hamper when his parents are going at it. He befriends a 10-year-old girl, Darla, who lives across the courtyard with her drug-addled mother and who convinces him to run away with her. Their journey, which takes them first to West Virginia in search of Darla’s father and eventually to North Carolina, is the book’s magic. Both kids are pre-puberty, so it’s… show more.

Waylaid is a bawdy coming-of-age novel about a Chinese American teenage boy working in his parents’ seedy motel – a vibrating bed kind of place – in New Jersey.

He broods about how to lose his virginity. He learns about the adult world from the patrons: Johns, sex workers, the families kicked out of their homes, and the rest of the down and out of American life. I gravitated to Waylaid because it isn’t wholesome yet doesn’t fall into the spirals of toxicity of a Bukowski poem.

It speaks to how sex is used to distract us from the working-class problems all around us, many of which our young are well aware of, but still holds onto this little flame of hope that even in such dark and down-and-out spots, we can find light.

What comfort library would be complete without Emily Henry?

I’ll read anything she writes, but Poppy and Alex’s love story is the stuff of my dreams. Friends to lovers, split timelines, and more yearning than I know what to do with Seamlessly blending humour and heart and set between Palm Springs, New York, Italy, and somewhere in the sedate American midwest, You and Me on Vacation was the antidote to my mid-lockdown claustrophobia.

I like to read my fluff on the treadmill – it keeps my brain more occupied than music or podcasts, so I’m less likely to remember how much I hate working out – and it was so delicious I found myself looking forward to time at the gym. A true feat.