100 Books Like The Friends of Meager Fortune

One of biologist Heinrich’s books, an extended nonfiction essay, may seem an eccentric choice here, but–like other works of this writer’s–it has had a profound effect on the way I regard the natural world in northern New England, my home territory.

There are life-scientists who write well and ones who command a patent, deep knowledge of their subject matter. None comes to my mind who so magnificently combines a fine novelist’s sensitivity to language with so broad and detailed a scientific awareness as Heinrich does. And he is bold. It takes a mind and writer of his caliber, for instance, to make a thumb-sized golden-crowned kinglet the hero—and a doughty one at that, one obliged to eat thirteen times his body weight to survive subzero nights–of his study.

The particularity of Heinrich’s vision is exemplary, something that I, a writer obsessed with the ecology of the region he shares with… show more.

What I admire so deeply in Ms. Robinson’s work is her capacity to tackle immense themes (from abolitionism to free will) in prose that is deliberately understated and yet stirs me deep in my soul and elicits my deep concerns for her characters, in this case, the title figure.

When I first read Robinson, I thought of B.B. King’s comment on the guitarist Johnny Winter, famous for his prolific, note-opulent solos. When asked about these tours de force, Mr. King diplomatically said, “Sometimes it’s not what you put in but what you leave out.” I know that, as primarily a poet, I can become seduced by the “lyrical” capacities of style; Robinson serves as a good check on that yen for excess and shows how presentations that might seem artless can shake the very earth.

Alice Munro is, I believe, my favorite living author (written before Alice's death on May 13, 2024). As with Marilynne Robinson, the choice of this particular collection, as opposed to others of Munro’s, verges on the arbitrary. Her capacity to render inner lives–which more often than not are quietly turbulent–seems to me matchless and she achieves her effects without straining for effect. She always seems to find the pluperfectly concise language to draw us into the small maelstroms of a character’s life. 

As one who is persistently intrigued by the way in which pasts and presents can conflict with, interfuse with, and complement a character’s view of her/himself and the ambient world, I am also much taken by Ms. Munro’s frequent recourse to achronological presentation. Her plots tend not to be that in any conventional sense of the word; things seem to happen suddenly and simply, and while these things… show more.

This book contains a pair of novellas, Reading Turgenev and My House in Umbria. While William Trevor has never to my mind written so much as a clause that’s not worth reading, Reading Turgenev is my preferred fiction here. It is a triumph of Irish realism, lyrical without any straining for effect, a heartbreaking reflection on frustrated love, and a sort of elegy for people who suffer because of that frustration. I read it for the first time in one sitting, so gripped was I by the various, quiet but soul-wrenching emotional dramas occurring, especially between the main character and her male cousin. I have gone back to it twice since and will again, I’m sure.

The novella is rife with social observation, and Trevor’s ear for telling dialect, the depiction of which never makes him sound the least condescending on the one hand or sentimental on the other,… show more.

If you’re a kindred spirit who’s never read this book, now is the time. This is an empowering story about defining oneself despite the small boxes that others attempt to place us in. It is the tale of setting out to find yourself and living the life you want.

As a plus, Montgomery’s unequaled descriptions of the natural world of Ontario’s Muskoka region are a balm and respite. I never tire of returning to this novel because I love the personal growth of the heroine, Valancy Stirling, the unexpected twists and turns, and Montgomery’s dry humor and beautiful prose. 

The protagonist, Ariadne, is also a stressed-out lawyer—are you sensing a theme?

In this case, her becoming a law firm partner is not only her aspiration, but the dream of her dad—and she doesn’t want to disappoint him. But Ariadne begins to question this goal upon meeting Jihoon. He’s her roommate’s cousin come to recover from a breakup. Ariadne creates a walking map for him, with all her favorite places in her Toronto neighborhood, sharing her delight in creating travel itineraries.

I loved the swooniness of the romance (I’m addicted to Korean romance dramas so this novel hits those heartwarming moments) and Ariadne’s journey figuring out her future. This book’s message—that in the end, you have to live your life for yourself—definitely resonated with me.

An old school bodice ripper by the absolute mistress of them.

Fires of Winter features a feisty heroine in the Irish princess Breena and a strong hero bent on revenge in Garrick Haardrad. ‘Everyone loves a Lindsey’ was the slogan in the early 1980s and this book showcases her at her page-turning best.

I loved this book because I loved the characters. Richards invested them with dignity even when they were flawed or endlessly frustrated by fate. They can go through life largely unnoticed except by their closest acquaintances and relatives. But they offer hope despite their failures and tragedies.

This was the first novel in Richards’ Miramichi Trilogy. It and the two subsequent novels, plus much of Richards’ later work, create a strong sense of the province of New Brunswick, even when the characters have a universal quality.

Bree is a fantastic female character, defined by her kindness, taking a break in a small town after the violent death of her father. In her search for peace, she is drawn to Archer, the village mute and recluse.

This story is heartbreakingly sweet, and Bree’s openness is something fresh and uplifting. It shines a spotlight on realistic emotional healing through both characters, forcing the reader to question judgments we often make as a society around disability. 

Have you ever read a book that makes your mouth and eyes water at the same time? That makes you laugh and takes your breath away and pisses you off and has you telling your partner every single detail of it, assuring they’ll never need to read it, but they want to anyhow? That’s Like Water for Chocolate.

The opening scene sets the whole tone of the book, and from then on, it sways between emotional heartbreaker, hilarious romp, devastating family drama, and magical realism that is so brilliant it feels real. What I’m saying is, it’s a delight.