Books like The Futurological Congress — picked by fans

Don't panic.

Science fiction can be hilarious without becoming merely ridiculous. It can bend the genre’s conventions without losing its way, and unleash its imagination while still taking sharp aim at human arrogance.

I read this book before it was widely recognized as a classic, and immediately loved its mixture of adventure, unforgettable characters, and jokes so brilliant that they became cultural touchstones around the world.

Most of all, I loved never being able to imagine what would happen on the next page. Few books offer the same combination of speed, adventure, unpredictability, and genuine laughter. Ever since I finished it, I have kept a small towel nearby, just in case the world ends.

The Code of the Woosters might be the best funny novel of them all. The all-knowing valet Jeeves and the hilarious narrator Bertram Wooster helped inspire the relationship in my novels between the coffeebot narrator Arjay and private investigator Frank Harken. Wodehouse’s plotting is superb and beyond clever, but it’s the prose—the playful and inventive sentences and paragraphs—that makes me come back to read this book again and again. A sample sentence: “He spoke with a certain what-is-it in his voice, and I could see that, if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled, so I tactfully changed the subject.”

Dave Barry is most famous as a humor columnist and nonfiction writer. His first novel Big Trouble, with a story that reads like a suspenseful thriller, is full of comedic events and clever twists. It’s worth reading, however, for the prose alone. Sample sentence: “En route to the polling place, the old man picked up seven other voters, all men, some quite aromatic.”

You might know Hugh Laurie as the actor who played Dr. Gregory House in House, though he’s been great in lots of other stuff, including playing Bertie Wooster in Jeeves and Wooster. He’s also a hell of a writer. The Gun Seller has the pacing of a spy novel and the sentences you might expect if P.G. Wodehouse and Raymond Chandler went into that gene-combining teleportation portal from The Fly and emerged as P.G. Chandlerhouse. Sample sentence: “But Rayner was also three inches taller than me, four stones heavier, and at least eight however-you-measure-violence units more violent.”

Told as a series of movie reviews, A Short Film About Disappointment unfurls its dystopia gradually. A hacker attack kicks off a global multi-decade economic depression, and to prevent this from ever happening again the Internet is abolished and replaced with the “Betternet,” a neutered and highly censored version of the Internet. Personal screens are also banned in this nanny state, leading to a robust cinema culture that the unread reviewer wants to contribute to with a dense art film of his own. The hilarious capsule descriptions of eighty (fictional) films serve as an oblique way of introducing the world, while the numerous tangents of the writer “Noah Body” tell a personal story of love, filmmaking, and a literal haunting by an ex-friend.

Who knew that the emperor Nero appointed an Advisor on Tastefulness, who also penned a bawdy and gritty novel about the adventures of several friends in the Roman Empire in the 1st century AD? Fairly few, and the even more surprising fact is that hundreds of pages of his text survive today. You can still read either in Latin or in English translation about two young men proposing to fight for the affections of the youth Giton and you can join them all in a visit to an archetypal Roman brothel. There is nothing else remaining that provides a more direct and authentic insight into daily experiences and relationships in ancient Rome.

I loved this book because it’s such a great concept.

It’s a delightfully intoxicating cocktail of Cervantes, Ian Fleming, with a twist of Beckett—shaken, not stirred. Fantastically fun and propelled by an extraordinary character who is obviously totally crazy, or maybe that’s just his cover story. An absolutely ingenious concept for a character and a book that is surprising, funny, ludicrously action-packed, yet strangely plausible, weirdly believable, and ultimately, completely enjoyable!

The characters, the locations, the menus, the yachts, the clothes, the witty repartee—I felt a little classier and more sophisticated just from having read it.

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.

Max Barry’s satirical science-fiction novel, Machine Man, is a dark and funny mediation on contemporary society’s compulsive over-reliance on technology. The narrator, Charles Neumann, is a mechanical engineer who, while obsessively searching for his phone, loses his leg in an industrial accident. After building himself a new machine leg, Charles purposely loses his other leg, so he can replace it with another machine leg. After seeing how great his new legs work, Charles wonders if maybe he should replace more of his body parts with machine parts, begging the question: Where does humanity end and technology begin?

In my teenage years in the 1970s, I read science fiction voraciously. I loved the ideas and imaginativeness, but it was all rather serious stuff. So, I was delighted when I discovered Robert Sheckley, a rare humorist and absurdist in a largely serious genre. 

I reckon his best novel is this one. It tells the story of a rather dull civil servant who wins the grand prize in a galactic lottery. He is whisked across space and time to Galactic Central to receive his prize: a shape-shifting, talking device/creature. Unfortunately, there is no provision for returning home, so an absurd journey begins from galactic bureaucracy to bizarre alternative Earths and homes. Maybe.

In addition to this book, I recommend diving into any of Sheckley's short story collections.