Books like The Mole People — picked by fans

I loved this book because it captures childhood in the rawest way—messy, painful, confusing, and resilient.

Walls writes about instability and survival with such clarity that I found myself nodding through entire chapters. I related deeply to the burden of growing up too fast and learning how to take care of people before you ever learned how to take care of yourself.

What moved me most was the love within the chaos—the complicated, contradictory love between parent and child that shapes you long after you’ve grown. It reminded me that you can carry pain and tenderness at the same time, and both can be true.

If you ask me or anyone else in the punk scene in 80s/90s New York, St. Mark’s Place—which was the epicenter of cool in our day—is a sad parody of itself now, touristy and dull. Until I read this book, I assumed its heyday began and ended with us, with Trash and Vaudeville and Manic Panic, with drinking 40-ounce beers on stoops.

Well, it turns out every generation that’s ever had a heyday on this famous, radical, anarchic block—whether as a gangster or dancing at Andy Warhol’s notorious Electric Circus parties—thought theirs was the only era that mattered. Calhoun chronicles hundreds of years of this exact attitude, which is fascinating and gives me some perspective.

I lived on the Lower East Side of NYC for decades before moving to the UK. It’s a fairly small area, but at one point was filled beyond capacity with new immigrants to the U.S. who worked hard and mostly lived in squalor.

Through his photos and writing, Jacob Riis humanized their experience and exposed the reality of their pursuit of the American dream, which was often brutal. As a photographer, I was inspired by him to help shine a light on the voices of underrepresented groups. I used to carry this book around with me to locate the buildings in it—photographed 150 years ago—in the modern day.

It’s a love story to—and in defense of—the immigrants who’ve shaped America.

The only thing that makes me cringe about this book is that I was supposed to be in the film adaptation when I was young, but my (violent and idiotic) boyfriend at the time ruined that opportunity for me. It’s essentially a series of entertaining, hilarious, edgy stand-alone stories that interweave into chapters, turning what could have been short stories into a novel.

It perfectly freezes in amber a moment in time (the 80s NY downtown art scene), the type of incredible characters who lived in it, motivated by conflated goals of self-expression and fame, and how it shaped/distorted/sometimes destroyed them.

Having been a part of the art and music scenes in NY a bit later, reckoning with my own aspirations and ego and navigating a cavalcade of incredible, sometimes menacing, often ego-centric characters in my own life, it rings true.

I think this could have been the book that made me want to sketch the world around me. It’s difficult to pinpoint but let’s just say this book had a huge impact on me, both at the time and my life subsequently.

This a graphic memoir. I am not sure if any other books even exist like this. But Danny shares what happened to his wife one fateful day, the subsequent impact on his family, and how he dealt with it through drawing. Danny’s drawings show that one does not need to be an amazing artist to sketch the world around you. His sketches are a record of a moment in time and not something made to hang on a wall. This was a major revelation to me.

I cannot recommend this book enough.

“I saw a little boy on the street today, and he cried so eloquently that I will never forget him.” Maeve Brennan wrote for the New Yorker’s Talk of the Town section as ‘The Long-Winded Lady’ from 1954 to 1968. She roamed the city’s streets, bars, and restaurants, eyes wide open, weaving stories of vivid emotional detail from the most seemingly mundane moments. None of these are too long – in the waiting room concentration can be fleeting – but each sketch engages. Her story of the crying boy ends this way: “He might have been the last bird in the world, except that if he had been the last bird there would have been no one to hear him.”

Zabar's, New York's world-famous food emporium, is the achievement of another Jewish immigrant family.

Author Lori Zabar's grandparents, before they were a couple, fled pogroms in Russia (now Ukraine) and made their way to New York. Together they worked at a variety of small food stores before starting their own in 1934. From then on, Zabar's helped define the Upper West Side of Manhattan.

The story here is one of hard work and eventual success in a family-run business, expanded to include dedicated non-family employees. The book also contains recipes, including two of my personal favorites - latkes and kugel. 

I am definitely recommending some very big books here! 

This one is easily recognizable because of the size of its spine, but it’s also incredibly interesting – an economic, social, and political history of New York City from its founding to consolidation, I think the best thing about this book is all the subjects it covers which I knew nothing about. 

New York City during the American Revolution comes to mind. So does the early history of New York’s apartment buildings. There’s a reason this book won a Pulitzer Prize. 

I like the sequel too (called Greater Gotham, only by Wallace), but prefer this book, I think, because I know the post-1898 history better while much of this book was novel to me.

Joseph Mitchell was the city reporter for the New Yorker for about half a century. This is a collection of his magazine stories. Many of them involve the old Fulton Fish Market, but he also wrote about weird things like dime museums, gypsies, and stag banquets. 

To me, every story in this collection is like a time capsule. This is the book that made me want to write about New York City because it suggests there is a history on every block there worth recording. If you don’t like a chapter or two, then skip to the next one, but I’ll vouch for 80% of this book being the best non-fiction writing that I have ever read (and I practically read for a living).

It takes courage to name your book that. Especially in the 90s before self-publishing became a thing. Which did not stop its renegade author from selling xeroxed copies of it in the streets.

Its titular protagonist, who is jobless and homeless after his girlfriend kicks him out, is based on the author himself. He struggles with feelings of inadequacy and a sense of purposelessness. He works odd jobs, writes an occasional poem, meets eccentric strangers, engages in substance abuse, and gets into sticky situations on account of his bad decisions.

While I don’t know about you, I can strongly relate to the character. The book's dark humor is also enough to make it one of my favorites.