100 Books Like The Meaning of Life

I still vividly remember the first time I read this book in my teenage years in Tehran. Its powerful rhythm, its vivid political imagery, and its sweeping vision shook me. It caught me right then and has never quite let go.

Not only has it remained relevant throughout the years, but it still reads like the literary masterpiece that it is. 

The seemingly eternal conflict in Israel/Palestine means that many readers know some basic facts about the place. But much of its history remains unknown.

What I love about this book is its patient and lucid exploration of one of such little-known histories: that of Jewish and Arab workers and how they once collaborated against all odds in the waning years of the British Mandate of Palestine, all the way up to the foundation of Israel in 1948. 

I first read this book years ago as part of my graduate studies, but its stories and characters have remained with me throughout the years

I loved this book because it gave me an inside account of many social movements from the stormy decade of 2010s that I had either lived through or followed from afar.

Based on interviews in 12 countries from Brazil to Bahrain to Ukraine, the book has a truly global reach and lets you understand a nagging question: Why did so little change in the world even as there were so many mass protests in the last decade? 

I especially enjoyed the fact that the book takes political ideas seriously while remaining readable and giving us a full-fleshed portrayal of its main characters, whether they be a leading leftist politician in Brasilia or a young protester in Kyiv. 

Biography is perhaps my favorite genre because, at their best, biographies show us how people are both made by history and make history themselves.

This book is amongst the best political biographies I’ve ever read as it gives a passionate but also fair and critical account of one of the best-known revolutionaries of the 20th century, Frantz Fanon. 

It is a book both about ideas and the humans behind them and is serious on both counts. Whether it’s deep in explaining Fanon’s turn away from orthodox Marxism or his continued attachment to Caribbean poetry, or when simply painting a picture of an afternoon in Tunis when Fanon interacted with his many friends and colleagues, it is a lively read that was hard for me to put down. 

A timeless meditation on purpose, suffering, and the human spirit. While not about entrepreneurship, this book is essential for anyone seeking to understand the deeper meaning behind their work. Frankl’s insight—that we can find meaning even in suffering—is profoundly relevant for founders navigating hardship and uncertainty. 

What struck me most about it was how Frankl captured the Holocaust not just as a historical event, but as a raw, existential landscape. I’ve seen many films and documentaries about that era, but Frankl’s account stands apart. His lens is philosophical, not just historical. His insight that meaning, not pleasure or power, is the primary driver of human life resonated deeply.

I've focused on the idea myself that many entrepreneurs pursue ventures not for wealth or control, but as a way to fill a deeper existential hole. Frankl’s writing felt honest, profound, and necessary. This is a serious and enduring book I’ll return… show more.

When I read Kessler’s book, a missing piece came into place for me. I had been working hard to absorb my loss, to be brave, to keep going...what I needed, in addition, was to find meaning in what had happened.

This book helped me ask the right questions to begin to do that. It drew me forward into a new stage of acceptance, helping me let go of underlying angst and despair.

This is probably the weirdest book I ever read. Certainly, the weirdest sciencey book.

It’s a dialogue between a palaeontologist and a novelist. The scientist, Arsuaga, sets up little excursions and events for Millás and himself around Madrid, and Millás writes about them. Each excursion illustrates some point about human evolution and behaviour.

As their relationship deepens, so do the tensions, as the scientist and the novelist don’t always see eye to eye. Arsuaga seems to delight in tormenting Millás by dragging him to places where he doesn’t initially get the point: pickup joints, childcare centres, and trains. They both love eating and drinking (so do I), and much of the discussion takes place over extended lunches. Sometimes, the food itself explains a point.

I loved it. Couldn’t put it down.

This is a book of essays about the act of looking, especially looking at photographs and paintings and animals and other people. Thus these are essays about history, memory, suffering, beauty, and the self. Berger had a generous spirit; he wrote often about the lives of peasants and spent the last forty years of his life in rural France. Berger gazed upon the world in all its forms with composure and curiosity. 

This book helps readers understand the emotional disconnect that happens when we live for others instead of ourselves.

Beck explains how suppressing our real feelings builds lifelong patterns of pain, avoidance, and resentment. She offers practical steps to help readers follow their truth, reconnect with their emotional instincts, and release the weight of old wounds.

Men who struggle with emotional expression or who were raised to hide their feelings may find this book particularly freeing because it teaches that honesty—with yourself and others—is the foundation of real peace.

 This book provides short summaries of the views of about one hundred philosophers of the twentieth and twentieth-first centuries.

Only one earlier philosopher is included, “the most prominent pessimist of the entire western philosophical tradition,” Arthur Schopenhauer.

One of the interesting features of the book – partly because it has rarely been attempted – is a taxonomy of the different answers that have been given to the question.