Books like The Sparsholt Affair

In this book, Alison Bechdel is obsessed with the triangular relationship between one’s parents, oneself, and literature, and, in my poetry, so am I.

Our parents are either puzzles we can solve or mysteries we cannot, but still we have to try. And in this book, again and again, Bechdel takes those insights and moments of beauty that literature offers, investigates her father’s life and death, and in this book (as well as the follow-up, Are You My Mother?), the meaning of her mother’s choices as well.

Now that I think of it, Fun Home is the story of how literature is always the child of what an author experiences in their life and what they read, the two brimming over into the impulse to make more words, understand more life. 

The sardonic humor is what grabbed me first. But as I gleefully zipped through this story of a lesbian’s coming of age in a repressive Pentecostal church, the author was quietly raising the stakes. She delivers profound observations of how family expectations disproportionately damage queer people. Religion always complicates such stories.

As a gay man who grew up Catholic, I was entranced by how the book deals with faith. When the protagonist starts to understand her own sexual impulses, the power and depth of human emotion also dawn on her. Her religion and family don’t have satisfying answers, and so she creates her own kind of faith. Reading how she does it was incredibly moving for me. 

I love any work that can draw me in by being uncanny while still being emotional. This book is such a work. It's the story of a gay bar that houses a community of cross-generational queer people who become close-knit while the world outside becomes more and more hostile to them.

Though he tells the story with distance and coldness, Neil Bartlett made me feel like I belonged in that bar, in that community. Reading how the characters clutch at meaning and love, how they embrace who they are, and how they support one another had me rooting for them (and for myself) louder every time I turned a page.

There is a dark undertow to this book that I didn’t detect in its early pages. Once I was a third of the way through, I was hooked. It’s the story of Wendy, a trans sex worker living through a bracing Winnipeg winter, but it’s also a uniquely queer examination of trauma and abuse offset by the value of family and community.

Her chosen family is produced by circumstance, but it grows its own unique qualities. Meanwhile, her attempts to have a relationship with her father eschew cliché as she reimagines that connection on her own terms. She’s bright and gloomy at once, humorous, curious, and imperfect. Her story is a visceral one; she stuck with me well after I finished it.

This whimsical and wonderful book is a modern classic of gay literature, one of the first upbeat gay novels with a happy ending, no less. It imagines a delightful, offbeat world where two boys can walk down the street hand in hand and no one cares; where the homecoming queen is the cross-dressing captain of the football team; where – well, you get the picture. It’s an offbeat and, well, sanguine one. I love the innocence and generous-spirited nature of the book that sets it apart and delights readers while demonstrating that love is sometimes not smooth but always comes right in the end. Who could ask for anything better?   

This book has a forbidding reputation, but I was lucky enough to come to it in my teens, not knowing I was supposed to be intimidated by it. Instead, I fell instantly and irretrievably in love with the mind-expanding potential of language and story.

It's about a city (Dublin), about a single day (June 16, 1904), and about a million other things besides. It’s a game, a challenge, a marvel, and I particularly love the way it uses time as a constant motif, as Stephen Dedalus and Leopold Bloom weave their way through Dublin across the course of the day, their interior monologues wandering likewise between past, present and future.

This coming-of-age novel is beautifully written, tragic, and deeply poetic, following Tłı̨chǫ teenager Larry Sole as he befriends newcomer Johnny Beck, and falls for his crush, Juliet Hope. It’s gritty and real and heartbreaking, but full of love and hope. Van Camp is a Dogrib Tłı̨chǫ writer of the Dene Nation from Fort Smith, Northwest Territories, and he’s written 26 books. This is his debut novel, it's gorgeous and absolutely unflinching. 

This is the first book in the series and by far the best one. Lyssa Kay Adams flips the typical all-female book club dynamic on its back and upside down in the most surprising way in this romance. Not only are all the book club members men, but they are “manly” men who are secretly using steamy Harlequin romances as relationship manuals. Their book club quickly develops into a support group where the men are free from societal restraints to become honest and vulnerable with one another. The result is hilarious and charming. It’s a wonder why this Bromance Book Club isn’t a real trend among men. If only every woman could have a Bromance Book Club for her partner.

My favorite book from Texas’ greatest living writer.

I’ve been lucky enough to go from fan to friend of Joe’s and realized a lot of the experiences of his youth ended up in this novel of a young boy in 1958 who discovers a box of love letters that unravel the mystery of a murder that happened decades ago in his small town, but some folks still want silent.

Lansdale captures a time of drive-in movies, early civil rights, and gearing up for times of change. Part Twain’s Huckleberry Finn, King’s The Body (a.k.a. Stand By Me), and all Lansdale.

If you think our wars are long and drawn out, the 25-year war between Athens and Sparta at the time of Athenian power in ancient Greece. The story is told by Alexis, born at a time of plague and the outset of the war. Alexias is born to a rich family and takes part in all the big events that shaped the outcome of the war. The book traces his adventures from his school days and how he witnessed the great naval battle in the Great Harbour, how he was captured and buried his father on his return. There are also references to Alicabides, a prominent figure in Athens at the time.

The Last of the Wine is more than about battles. It also offers great insights into how lived beyond the constant battles that pepper the book and coming to know some of the key Athenian statesmen who come… show more.