Books like The Snow Goose — picked by fans

I would have thought to list another book here, and for sure, there are truly many books to be read that could easily be listed here, and despite that, this is listing Tolkien’s works for a third time; the truth simply stands in my library that his works are simply that great. 

So far be it that the renowned book of The Lord of the Rings be not included. I had been introduced to Tolkien and fantasy’s more serious nature by my dad and grandfather with readings of The Hobbit, and by it, I was already enamored with the world of Middle-earth, as Bilbo was my hero.

I loved the classic animated cartoon adaptations back then by Rankin and Bass, and Bakshi, which at the time was my main exposure to The Lord of the Rings, along with commentaries from my dad, until I finally read it at the time… show more.

I love this book for its fabulous sense of place, nonstop action, and realistic depiction of the rough-and-tumble Yukon during the 1890s Gold Rush.

The protagonist may be a dog but Buck, the good-heard Saint Bernard we meet as affable and innocent puppy, is I truly believe one of the most unforgettable characters in the history of adventure novels. His transition to a feral state is utterly believable as the book unfolds the darkness that lies at the heart of all too many men and the often violent chain of events that causes Buck to seek a new life.

I have read this book three times, and each time, it continues to amaze me. 

Although I read this book as a child, I only began to appreciate it when reading it again as an adult. The sheer beauty of the English prose makes it, I think, the best-written book ever, if only in terms of the mastery of words.

Some of the underlying themes are rewarding to explore, such as friendship, nature, the importance of home, and forgiveness, and the idea of a threat to a peaceful idyll from the encroachment of modernity now touches a chord, as does the message that people (or animals) with wealth and privilege have a choice over how they behave. 

This book is the perfect place to start.

At first glance, it’s a fantasy tale following a tribe of rabbits as they flee the destruction of their old warren to seek a new kingdom.

However, as the journey unfolds, it becomes more of an epic myth like The Odyssey or The Aeneid, both stories with historical roots. Indeed, each chapter starts with an epigraph from myth or history, enhancing the gritty tone.

Beware, Beatrix Potter fans: this is not a children’s tale. There are rabbit-on-rabbit battles. Meditations on rabbit romance. Deaths of beloved characters. Tense escapes. And, in the end, explorations of the meaning of life, both rabbit and human.

I read this book as a boy, and I couldn’t put it down. It’s the story of American PT boats in the South Pacific during World War II, and the story behind the title captivated me. Every soldier knows that he or she might be sacrificed by a commander to gain time for a retreat or as part of a super-dangerous mission.

The sailors on the boats in White’s story were living examples of how they could be expendable. Even as a boy, this book made me grateful for what I had and grateful to the members of the uniformed services who protected us. That they would make such a commitment makes me love America even more. 

James Jones's brilliant debut novel must have had a great effect on me because I admit, in many ways, my book covers the same ground – how does a man maintain honor and dignity when constrained to live his life by the choices of other, and much more powerful men? I suppose the difference between our two themes is that the question in my book is about those same choices but wrapped in the question of race. Jones’s characters, while in the military, were dealing with personal issues. My Corporal Buck is dealing with an issue about which all of America is on fire.

From Here to Eternity is 70 years old. I read it in 1969, an eternity ago and it has lasted with me from there to here.  When I was in the Marine Corps I knew everything that was happening to me. But I didn’t know what… show more.

This book takes the lives of very ordinary Canadians and throws them into the maelstrom of war. I love that it carefully sets up a world few know about—Toronto in the 1930s—and shows the ambiguity of the times, how anti-Semitism was at home as well as across the water in Europe.

I so enjoyed the Romeo and Juliet love affair at the novel's heart, and I was moved by the trials love is subjected to—as well as shocked by excellent descriptions of war's brutality.

Todd Bowden, a middle-class boy, has everything good going for him until he meets Kurt Dussander, a man who was the pure embodiment of evil during Hitler’s Nazi regime, now living in America under the assumed name, Arthur Denker. Todd figures out who “Arthur Denker” is from crime magazines his father had kept in a trunk in the garage.

Todd’s curiosity for violence rises to the surface. He is increasingly drawn down into darkness, blackmailing Mr. Dussander to tell him what went on in the concentration camps.

Born in 1934 in Berchtesgaden, in the shadow of Hitler’s Eagles Nest, Irmgard Hunt witnessed the growth of fascist ideology among the people she loved during an otherwise idyllic childhood. As the shadow of World War II fell over the mountain, however, Hunt began to question and then disavow the Nazi doctrines she had accepted as a young child. As time went on and the regime crumbled literally before her eyes, she was vocal in confronting her country’s criminal past and in championing the democratic principles her elders had so easily dismissed.

Kristóf (1935-2011) was a Hungarian writer who fled to Switzerland during the war and wrote in French.

The Notebook (the first in the trilogy) is currently number one on my list of all-time favourites. It has all the elements of storytelling that I love: deep, psychological insight into the human heart; adroit use of archetypes, which give the book a timeless, folkloric feel; concision (no waffling) and a poetic, pared-back language that creates a sense of startling immediacy.

Kristóf writes about World War II through the eyes of two young brothers in a Nazi-occupied country (unnamed), and she shocks us awake not through sensationalised violence but through matter-of-fact narration.

It reads like a cross-between dramatic monologue and biblical parable – she stretches the novel form and opens up new possibilities for writing.