100 Books Like The Member of the Wedding

This is the first book I ever read by a Latina author. I was nineteen years old and a student at a small private liberal arts college in Connecticut. My professor assigned it to my American Literature class. I thought she’d made a mistake because some of the words in the book were in Spanish. I didn’t know you could do that—write in English but have some words in Spanish peppered throughout the dialogue and text. I was stunned.

I remember reading about Esperanza and her experiences in her Mexican neighborhood in Chicago, meeting characters on Mango Street, and falling in love with both the story and Cisneros’ playful, vulnerable, poetic writing style. After reading this book, I knew I also wanted to be a writer.

This book is about Dag Hammarsjold's, former Secretary General of the United Nations, spiritual quest for finding Something or Someone where he can ground himself.

I read this as a college student and it influenced me to become more reflective about my own spiritual journey and to be authentic about this journey. This is a man I would have liked to have known.

I love East of Eden because it shows California both as the promised land and the fallen world.

Adam Trask, who moves his family west after serving in the Indian wars, is one of so many Americans who sought the California dream and ended up with something different—understanding that we can not return to Eden, but have to find a way to live in the world as it is.

I also love Steinbeck’s rendering of the California landscape and climate. He describes them out of his deeply lived experience. Reading this book takes me home. The essential California novel.  

When it comes to family sagas turned myth, it’s hard to top Calliope Stephanides tracing the passage of the hermaphroditic gene—transforming Callie into Cal—through three generations of the Greek-American Stephanides family.

An epic origin story that moves from Asia Minor to Detroit, Michigan, complete with incest and a nuanced exploration of gender identity. It also has one of my all-time favorite novel openings ever. “Sing now, O Muse, of the recessive mutation on my fifth chromosome!”

This is one of those books I am in awe of. Deeply immersive, I had to be pried away from this story once I began. The writing is spectacular and an absolute masterclass on writing chemistry between characters and writing young love.

This book falls on nearly any top-five list of mine. It is truly stunning and heartbreaking in turn. (Sorry, this isn’t a very light list, is it??) But to me, what makes love stories powerful is all the ways that love can be lost, the truth that love can be fleeting, impossible to hold onto forever, even if you have spent a lifetime with the one you love, at some point we all have to say goodbye. This is what makes love so beautiful.

When I read this book as a young teen I admired the freedom the young characters had to be absorbed in their own worlds, and, as a result, constantly getting into scrapes and suffered scolding. Much later I re-read this and was struck by the comic magic of Tom and his friends, assumed to have died, returning to witness their own funeral. Here the boys who were constantly found wanting are now being praised without reservation. This reveals the see-saw action of the adolescent self: one moment teens see themselves as wonderful, beloved, treasured, and at another cast down, and always they carry around an “imaginary self” where they cannot escape concern about how people see them. 

In this book, a young Hasidic Jew and artist faces the conflict between his orthodoxy and his desire to explore what lies outside his orthodoxy, such as the Crucifixion of Jesus Christ. He is pulled in two directions—by his parents' idea of his identity and by searching for the truth about the human condition through his art.

I read this many years ago, in my 30s, and was heartbroken by how the main character has so much integrity to keep searching and finding in spite of so many forces trying to label him and forbid him from certain explorations. I, too, was searching for my place in those years of creating a career, and it deepened the authenticity of my search. 

This book is about figuring out who one is and where one fits in an evil world. She reaches the conclusion that “In spite of everything, I still believe in the good of man.”

This led me to keep a journal for some years and to encounter the problem of evil when I read this as a 13-year-old. Anne’s vibrancy and desire for love and goodness showed how to keep one's own Spirit alive in one of the worst of circumstances.

The word “visceral” comes to mind when I attempt to distill what this book is about. A not-so-fictional auto-biography opens in the slum called Paradise, where Chipo, Bastard, Sbho, Stina, and “I” are headed to the–relatively–more affluent area of Budapest to steal fruit. These dirt-poor kids don’t know it, but they are victims of the far-off, murderous regime of President Robert Mugabe–but that always remains hidden in the background. They are brutalized and never know it or know why.

Courtesy of an invite from an Aunt in the United States, the protagonist eventually escapes Zimbabwe. But once there, while things get materially much better, in reality, it is no less bewildering and bereft of meaning: she and her friends spend their afternoons watching hard-core porn while eating popcorn and discussing inane stuff, like “what the hell are they doing?!” It’s funny in parts, but it also hurts in parts. The… show more.

A forced emotional bond between an extraordinary 12-year-old girl and an ex-special forces soldier underscores the flat-out action and pace of this read-in-one-sitting thriller from Patrick Lee.

With a hint of the supernatural, it is a little outside the normal, grounded thrillers I tend to gravitate toward, but the way Lee connects his characters and makes their journey into ours is incredible. The best thrillers can improve with each re-read, and I keep being drawn back to this story.