Books like The Heads of Cerberus — picked by fans

I find that Frankenstein transcends eras by posing critical questions about the ways we develop and use new technology.

I first read a comic-book version in elementary school and have returned to Shelly’s novel over the years because it stimulates my critical thinking about technology, particularly the current rise of AI and our response to it. Frankenstein raises a fundamental ethical question about technology in real life: just because humans can create something, should they actually create it?

For me, the novel also creates the opportunity to explore questions about how we engage technology once we choose to invent it. Dr. Frankenstein abandons his creation, and the creature becomes an angry monster. I ask myself, is this an allegory for our own response to technology?

When I first discovered this book’s existence, I knew I had to read it.

C.S. Lewis ventured into the same territory I stumbled into, and I found few Christians that I could confide in back in the 1990s, about the ideas and concepts that swarmed in my brain.

Everyone has heard about The Chronicles of Narnia, The Screw Tape Letters, and The Great Divorce, all of which are theological classics. CS Lewis is a literary giant and a must-read for Christians.

But to learn that he wrote about outer space as the heavens, and his understanding that the word for “heaven” in Scripture is a plural word, bearing its origin from Genesis 1:14, was astonishing to me. He gets it!

The concept of this story is amazing, especially at a time when they are “bringing back” different species. I am often amazed at what scientists have been able to accomplish in real life, and it’s even more fun to read about it in fiction. 

Another thing that I loved about this story is how it shows that nature cannot be contained. We can manipulate it, but we’d better not make too many assumptions about how things will progress because nature has its own way of doing things.

The characters were also great in both the book and the movie.

This book had me thinking on my feet and working to unravel the mysteries ahead of the plot while feeding my cravings for deeper philosophical concepts. Frank Herbert is great at writing complex stories that make me think, as evidenced by his Dune series. But unlike the Dune series, The Godmakers has quick pacing and witty banter.

I laughed while reading this, even while contemplating the deeper ideas he was weaving in, themes of belief in self, the nature of personal power, and stamina for longevity. Would I stand the test of immortality or the responsibility of godhood?

Usually I pick out books for my kids, not this one though. My youngest picked this up at the library and loved it so much he told me that I just had to read it, and I’m glad I did! I love mythology and Cavallaro did such a great job taking classic myths and monsters and turning them on their head. Plus, there’s a sword that teleports your enemy’s skeleton into outer space, how great is that?!

The Broken Years is a wonderful book about what Australian soldiers thought and felt during the war.

It originated in Bill Gammage’s PhD thesis, which was the first systematic study of the soldiers’ letters and diaries collected by the Australian War Memorial. The result is an illuminating and moving masterpiece, which proved transformational.

When he began his thesis he was in unfamiliar territory, as the concentrated use of these sources was unprecedented — in fact, military history itself was not popular. But he persevered, gradually sensing he was on to something, and indeed he was.

The Broken Years became an enduring classic. It was personally very influential for me during the 1970s when I was a dissatisfied, recently graduated lawyer considering a change to something more aligned with my interest in history. I took the plunge, left the law, and I’ve been a historian and biographer ever since.

Although my novel is set mainly on the home front, it starts in no man’s land and the trenches and returns to the front a few more times to demonstrate how close the links were between the home and war fronts. I wanted these passages to be realistic and needed facts, details, and knowledge from which to write.

I read John Lewis-Stempel’s meticulously researched book because it focuses on the experiences of Subalterns—young men who were made officers while they were often still at school. I found it moving, harrowing, and shocking—a book that stayed with me because it showed the impossibility of performing that role and surviving more than a few weeks. It proved invaluable for the first chapter of the book which is entitled The Subaltern.

Like Sassoon, Owen entered the war as a “dreamy” youth interested in literature and art. Unlike Sassoon, though — whom Owen idolized — Owen did not survive the war. He was killed in action on November 4, 1918, a week before the war ended.

Owen wrote all of the poems for which he is remembered between August 1917 and September 1918. His experience of the war turned him from “ a very minor poet to something altogether larger,” writes C. Day Lewis. “…It was a forced growth, a revolution in his mind which, blasting its way through all the poetic bric-a-brac, enabled him to see his subject clear — ‘War, and the pity of War.’ The subject made the poet: The poet made the poems, which radically changed our attitude toward war.”

The hallmarks of Owen’s poetry are his compassion for the frontline soldier and the precision and clarity with… show more.

More than a century has passed since the First World War, but this book shows us that its humanitarian legacies are well worth remembering.

I appreciate this book for many reasons, but most of all, for the truly global perspective its authors take. They make it clear that the Great War was truly a world war. More than this, it should be remembered as a global humanitarian crisis. The authors examine many diverse efforts to assist both soldiers and civilians while also considering the messy politics involved in these relief efforts.

I find this book valuable for revealing the complex relationships between aid workers and relief recipients, a dynamic as central today as it was 100 years ago.

Like so many marvelous novels, this one has traveled through the underground of the fiction world too little known, despite catching many awards and the intense praise of people such as Stephen Fry.

It is set in France during the final bloody months of World War I and features an unexpected love affair between two ordinary young soldiers, Australian and American. What is amazing is that the author is such a vivid, meticulous historian, such a fine military researcher, and yet can write so intimately.

I became so involved with Tommy and David. Will they survive the last months of the war and go on together hiding their relationship from condemning neighbors, or will the war cancel their great love?