Books like The Prince of Minor Writers — picked by fans

I love the rawness of Samantha Irby’s writing—she says it like it is. When I read her essays, I’m peeking in on her uncensored thoughts about the mundane, which are unrefined, real, and hysterical to me. Like many of us, I enjoy reading/hearing someone not trying to “polish a turd.”

While reading her book, my mind equally thinks: "I CANNOT believe she just wrote that” and “Tell me MORE.” 

No one who reads Nora on her breasts or her neck will ever forget her hilarious takes on her own insecurities. Her style seems effortlessly casual, but the closer you look, the more you see how cunningly put together these essays are. A superb combination of vignette and rumination, these pieces rescue the detritus of everyday life and show how absurd our American reality is.

This classic of nineteenth-century English literature never dates, because Lamb is so refreshingly human and humane, and makes fun of himself so irreverently. Whether he is writing about his lack of musical gifts in “A Chapter on Ears” or spoofing the scholars in “A Dissertation Upon Roast Pig” or lamenting his own bachelorhood in “Dream Children,” he has set the standard for comic poignancy, for that paradox of laughter through tears. 

I could potentially recommend any of Sedaris’ early works. Pick one, you won’t regret it.

Sedaris has a way of taking our most mundane lives and making them hilarious. His style can be best described as memoirs meet standup comedy. We’ve all had those weird, awkward family moments. Sedaris does a great job of making them funny. Warning: people tend to look at you rather oddly and give you space when you listen to the audiobook while out walking alone. 

The title says it all. I choose Patai’s withering account of Orwell’s irredeemable misogyny not because I think she is right but because I think she onto something in him and in his life and times. After Koestler, another dark corner.

In the first sentence of this novel Anna Lore falls madly in love with a man she happens to run into on the street of her hometown.

Even though she only vaguely recognizes him as they strike up a brief conversation, she becomes so obsessed with him that she is willing to give up everything for him, including her marriage of twenty years with a loving and reliable husband who she loves too.

Reading this novel, I was fascinated with Anna Lore's struggle to understand what's driving her towards a man, who almost against his will has such irresistable power over her. To follow her thinking as it makes her crazy infatuation appear reasonable and compelling is a fascinating experience of the uncanny nature of the unconscious.

An art history book might not seem like the most obvious choice for a list like this, but this one is a revelation: we often forget that Crucifixion paintings are scenes of capital punishment. Merback looks at crucifixion images of northern European masters of the late medieval and early modern period, and reveals that the often mangled positions of the limbs of the two thieves on either side of Christ are depictions of the kinds of mutilations that spectators regularly witnessed on the bodies of those broken on the wheel (where the limbs were smashed and then 'woven' through the spokes of a cartwheel - no, really). This study is important not only for understanding the physical practices of execution on the Continent, but also for exploring the profound religious significance of the entire execution ritual. 

I really resonated with this book. It reminded me a lot of the Sisters in Christ book where in a mentoring relationship it’s not necessarily defined as a discipleship relationship but more friend/friend.

You aren’t there to lecture, teach, criticize the other person. You both are seeking a relationship with the Lord separately and then your times of coming together are that much sweeter and you grow more in your own personal relationship with Jesus by living life side by side someone else who loves Jesus with all their heart. It’s a give and take, which is exactly what a Sister in Christ relationship is all about.

Lastly, and most importantly, is the prayer aspect. Anyone can “live life together,” but it's when you pray together that God moves mountains.

To my mind, this one is a game-changer. It seems a niche subject—the ways that Jesus’ death is interpreted in NT texts as a sacrifice—but, Man Alive, it was one of the most eye-opening and engrossing books I’ve read in years.

Rillera argues that many Christians have significantly misunderstood Jesus’ death. All that stuff about Jesus taking the punishment for our sins and dying so we don’t have to, he says, is not in the Bible! Sounds nuts, right? That’s why I found it such an arresting book.

And the resulting teaching on Jesus’ death makes a heck of a lot more sense to me. I love books that make me rethink stuff I took for granted. This is one. (Warning: a tightly argued book, so demands some concentration.)

Nothing has superseded this in the twenty-seven years since it was published. Wenham has spent his entire career returning again and again to the issue of Jesus and Paul, showing that despite many superficial differences, the core messages of these two crucial figures at the beginning of Christianity mesh well with each other. It contains discussions as well of all the places where Paul actually quotes or alludes to Jesus’ teaching, though many scholars have not always recognized these. Despite frequent claims to the contrary, Paul is most decidedly not the true founder of Christianity but a faithful follower of Jesus. Now retired, Wenham has been a great encouragement to me at key stages of my scholarly career.