Books like The Gold Diggers — picked by fans

Few other books romanticize Africa the way this book does. A great deal has changed since it was published in 1937, but Danish author Karen Blixen’s whimsical account of her eighteen years in Africa remains enchanting.

I am particularly partial to the theme of determined, independent women living largely alone in remote places, enjoying the wonders of the natural world, and being adventurous and resourceful. I grew up on a farm in Africa and relate to the associated joys and challenges. 

First published in 1948, this book will forever occupy a special place in my heart.

Not only is the book partially set in the very countryside where I was raised in South Africa, but it was also responsible for awakening my young conscience to the harsh realities of what many South Africans endured leading up to and during the apartheid years.

I was forever moved by the story and characters, and discovered the power of fiction by reading it.

I loved how this book, set in an unnamed southern African country featuring the turbulent times of colonialism, civil war, and the HIV virus, combined historical facts and magical realism to captivate and charm me.

I was mesmerized as I followed Genie as she travelled through time, experiencing high adventure, heartache, and beauty. The characters are unforgettable, and the writing exquisite. It’s an incomparable novel.

I’ve loved Andre Brink’s books ever since I discovered them in my late teens. He’s a celebrated South African author of protest literature, and his historical fiction, Philida, is one of my favourites. 

It’s a tender and yet powerful story about a woman born into slavery to a white family, who becomes the mother of four children by the son of her master. Although it reveals the sordid past of the country, much of Philida’s power lies in how personal it is.

I love how nuanced and intimate the story is and how one woman’s story says so much.

This is the incredibly gripping tale of the friendship and interdependency between Levi, a young (23-year-old) anthropological researcher who joins a migrant caravan, and Axel, a migrant and hacker who ends up employed by many bigshots in the migrant-aid industry within Mexico.

It uncovers a terrible set of abuses in migrant shelters, as shelter leaders spy on one another, brutally mistreat migrants, and manipulate migrants and the government. I read it in three days.

A school siege is a theme that will strike terror into the hearts of teachers and parents everywhere. It’s that planned-for scenario that will ‘never happen here’ (rural Somerset). And then it does. Lupton slows down the narrative so it feels as if events are unfolding at a pace close to real time. Alongside the stress and anxiety, Lupton draws on her characters’ stories to examine the world we live in and aspects of humanity. There are stories of first love and parental despair, we glimpse the mind of a psychopath and the stoic heroism of two Syrian refugee brothers, who’ve already been through hell at the hands of people smugglers. Dormant racism rears its ugly head. It’s a poignant read with plenty for book clubs to discuss. 

The Devil’s Highway is the 2001 story of the tragedy that befell 26 men and boys from Veracruz who cross the Mexico/Arizona border led by human smugglers who get lost on a stretch of desert known as the Devil's Highway.

Urrea is known for his direct and clear reportage style of writing. As he depicts what happened to these men seeking a chance at the American Dream, Urrea does not lose sight of the broken system of immigration, the border patrol, the smugglers or the criminal enterprise of which they are part.

The actual walk and the deadly mistakes made by their “guide” are not shared until Part Three of the book. Through the recollections of walkers and creative non-fiction he recreates dialogue that captures the motives and dreams of these ill-fated men.

I live in London, one of the most developed and “civilised” cities in the world but I’ve always been fascinated by what lies beneath its respectable surface and what currents are agitating it from below. This is a startling and eye-opening tour of the UK’s rich criminal underbelly and the surprising and surreptitious ways crime groups can cheat the system. It’s also a shocking insight into the lengths to which criminal gangs are prepared to go to avoid being caught. I’ve not been able to look at my home city in the same way ever since.

This novel made me uneasy.

I loved Rosa Burger's character, sympathized with her dilemma, and didn't want to see her harmed. And because she faced agonizing moral choices, I had to question my own. Rosa's parents, anti-apartheid activists in South Africa, were imprisoned; both died in jail. Their cause was just, their sacrifices laudable. I never doubted my own opposition to apartheid, but that was easy from a distance; I can't know what I would have done if I had lived there.

How can I judge Rosa for choosing her own path, even a frivolous one, away from both politics and her troublesome country? And can I judge her if she later goes home, becomes active, and risks her parents' fate? But then I wonder, are people who replicate their parents' life choices inauthentic? Shouldn't they think for themselves?

This is one of my favorite books ever. I’ve read it many times, and it’s 500 pages long. The voice of the first-person narrator is so delightful I get hooked on the first page. Set in South Africa, Peekay is the ultimate underdog.

Emotionally deserted by his mom at boarding school, he doesn’t even know his own name and calls himself P.K. He’s a white English kid bullied by the dominant Dutch-descendant Boers as Apartheid (Governmental violent, oppressive racism) becomes law.

Peekay grows to become a champion boxer and champions the oppressed. I became obsessed with South Africa and could not look away from this story. It’s a wonderful example of a novel about an athlete, and even when I don’t like the sport, I adore the character and story.