100 Books Like The Word From Paris

Apart from the existential fiction that I love (Dostoevsky, Kafka, Camus, etc.), this is one of my favorite books of all time. The editor, Walter Truett Anderson, gathered together the best collection ever of essays on the topics of postmodernism, deconstruction (and reconstruction), the wobbly nature of truth in the twentieth century (and now, the twenty-first century), and how we might go about reconstructing the truth now that we have so beautifully and mercilessly deconstructed it.

Authors included are Umberto Eco, Michel Foucault, Jean Baudrillard, Richard Rorty, Bell Hooks, and a ton of other great thinkers on the subject of our postmodern malaise and the difficulties of belief … in anything. If you don’t know this book, you will really, really want to get to know it.

My love for books of quotations began when my publisher, Jeremy Tarcher, asked me to create a “quote campaign” for my book. Ever since then, I have loved quotation books—and this is my favorite, by far. James Haught has culled (pre-Internet!) thousands of quotes from skeptics, doubters, and freethinkers who wanted to know for themselves—who wanted to arrive at the truth about the truth through their own experiences and the evidence of their eyes.

The list of quoted authors would run for pages, but among them are the great ancients like Epictetus, Aristophanes, Cicero, and Euripides, through the Renaissance, the European Enlightenment, and the first American Rationalists, all the way to our modern times of the British language philosophers (like Bertrand Russell) and the French existentialists (like Sartre). If you are the least bit skeptical, this will become your favorite bedside reading ever!

One of the top freethinkers of the early 1900s, Chapman Cohen, is all but lost in the mists of history and obscurity. But he is one of my favorite sharp-eyed debunkers of humbug, without which debunking the truth stands no chance.

Cohen wrote on a wide variety of subjects, from how tyrants target scientists to the contemporary witch trials of his times to the connection between religious zealotry and a preoccupation with other people’s sexual practices to the differences between English and French atheism.

If you’ve read smart essays by the likes of Bertrand Russell and George Orwell, you will enjoy the essays of Chapman Cohen, a thinker you likely have never heard of—but might love to get to know.

Sufiism predates Islam and contains some of the most interesting thinking from the ancient world to stand alongside the ancient Greeks and Romans. All three traditions, the Greek, the Roman, and the Sufi, did a tremendous job of deconstructing humbug and turning a clear eye on the truth.

Teaching tales from the Sufi tradition have been passed down to us, but we no longer know where they came from—for instance, did you know that the famous tale of the blind men and the elephant is a Sufi teaching tale? Idries Shah has gathered together a wonderful collection of these teaching tales with names like The Man Who Was Aware of Death, The Man with the Inexplicable Life, and Wisdom for Sale. If you married the teaching tale, the fairy tale, and existential thought, this is what you would get. I love these tales! 

Think of this as the literary equivalent of a Gobelins tapestry, its various threads expertly woven together to tell a grand and colourful story. McAuliffe has expertly intertwined the narratives and anecdotes of some of the most fascinating of Parisians to create a wonderfully engaging overview of the Belle Époque, that fabled and hedonistic between-wars Parisian era. By telling the history of these times through the eyes of the key players who lived—and shaped—these times, McAuliffe has produced a book that almost reads like a novel. It’s a fabulous treatment she also employed for her subsequent books that explored later periods of Paris history: Twilight of the Belle Epoque, When Paris Sizzled, and Paris on the Brink.

France also had a rich Romantic movement (Chateaubriand, Madame de Staël, Victor Hugo, Alfred de Musset, to name a few writers, not to mention Delacroix and Berlioz), though it flowered later than those in Germany and England, probably because of the distraction of the Revolution. Bénichou’s book traces the origin of the “consecration” of the poet and creative genius, an idea fundamental to romanticism and still with us in our skeptical times. It is the first of four volumes on French romanticism, and it is a pity that the other three have yet to be translated.

Laporte’s poetic and sweeping tour of turds made me realize how flushing my toilet produces and reinscribes cultural norms. Read the history behind our collective fascination with “sewer stories,” whether it’s London’s immense blobs of underground fat or urban legends about deadly crocodiles or mutant goldfish. 

I love how this book has inspired and influenced contemporary metabolic artists. In 2017, Kathy High and Guy Schaffer created a mixed media project “committed to re-imaging and re-inserting feminist and queer stories into our histories of medicine and science” and called their work History of Shit as an homage to Laporte. I am moved by how High and Schaffer continue Laporte’s work within what might have been his natural lifespan had we not lost him and countless artists and philosophers to the AIDS pandemic.

This study was published during my student years, and I was instantly attracted to Žižek’s unorthodox approach and his idiosyncratic rhetoric. The idea that (Lacanian) theory and (Hegelian) philosophy only make sense insofar as one can explain it to two ‘idiots’ by using examples from ‘popular’ culture, and film in particular, struck a chord with me.

The way Žižek can discuss within only a few pages a Stephen King adaptation, a spaghetti western, and a Fritz Lang film has confused several of his critics, but it has been mind-blowing to me to the present day. Bold and thought-provoking as his works are, he is the Tadej Pogačar within the academic world. The Slovenian cyclist Pogačar could become world champion even after a crazy attack; Žižek can bring crazy associations to a proper end.

One prominent feature of Žižek’s oeuvre that initially brought him to fame is his impressive ability to make Lacan’s writings and ideas crystal-clear and tangibly concrete—and this by contrast with Lacan himself, who often is described as “notoriously difficult.” Écrits is Lacan’s magnum opus, containing his most important essays and articles from the 1930s through the mid-1960s. Although the volumes of Lacan’s Seminar are comparatively easier to read, Écrits provides the single most comprehensive survey of Lacan’s thinking provided by Lacan himself. This 1966 book contains such Lacanian contributions to psychoanalytic theory as the mirror stage, the unconscious structured like a language, and the Real-Symbolic-Imaginary triad. Neither Lacan nor Žižek can be fully comprehended without a tour of the Écrits.

I enthusiastically recommend Legacies of Anti-Semitism in France, a must-read for those intrigued by the complex interplay of literature, history, and cultural context.

This book provides an insightful exploration of the writings of four influential figures—Maurice Blanchot, Jacques Lacan, Jean Giraudoux, and Andre Gide—in the context of France's pre-World War II history of anti-Jewish thought. Mehlman's essays dive into a range of fascinating topics, from Blanchot's unique conception of literature to Lacan's distinctive style, Giraudoux's connection to Racine, and the intricacies of sexual politics in Gide's work.

I found Mehlman's insights into Giraudoux particularly enlightening. Especially his analysis of The Madwoman of Chaillot broadens our understanding of how historical context shapes literary works, offering invaluable perspectives on the intellectual history of contemporary France.

The banquiers that the Madwoman of Chaillot kills in the 1942 play are openly described as Jews in a 1938 Giraudoux’s text: Pleins Pouvoirs. Don't miss the… show more.