Books like The Young Team — picked by fans

I loved the Glaswegian (quasi-Irish!) voice of Shuggie Bain, but what I will always remember it for is its gut-wrenching depiction of the consequences of poverty and alcoholism for the titular child character. 

There were times when I was reading this novel that I literally flinched from it. It’s one of the most poignant times that I can remember having such a visceral reaction to a book. 

What I found truly remarkable was the book’s sense of simultaneous inevitability and hope. At once, I felt that there was only one possible end for Agnes and Shuggie, and yet I also somehow believed that both characters would escape their miserable situation.

This idea, that hope sustains even against the most improbable odds, accesses something fundamentally human. A book that can do that is one I would recommend any day.

The most “please don’t do it” I have felt in response to a story is as Gray’s protagonist Thaw empties his pockets and throws his life documents and identifying possessions from a moving train on his way to his moment of madness. This will transpose or transform or, I suppose we must, translate Thaw into Lanark.

Critics have noted the many madcap imaginative moments in Gray’s large (in every sense) debut novel. The sequencing of the parts alone (Part 3, Part 1, Part 2, and Part 4) is enough to signal we are in no realist story of a boy and man’s life in Glasgow – more, think surrealist – and yet the book is also just that, and Glasgow is a hell called Unthank in the imagination of an artist who lived all his life in Glasgow.

Having lived in Scotland in the late 1970s, I felt as though I was reading about my own experiences at times, and I was certain I could smell the coal burning. This book helped make sense of so much of Scottish life and politics, while it was also a moving personal story. It’s a sweeping history of life and politics in 20th century Scotland that gives context to everything in the news today.

Scabby Queen opens with the death by suicide of Clio Campbell, at different times a popstar, a political activist, a lover of life.

The book stretches back five decades to tell her story, from different perspectives and jumping around between time periods. I really love that such a complicated, strong, and uncompromising woman gets to take centre stage in a story that is both political (poll tax riots, miners’ strikes, Brexit) and personal.

This book is full of rule-breakers, but not in the way you’d think. Rhea and her friends try to combat gentrification in their South L.A. neighborhood in the most unconventional way imaginable by inventing a fake gang; however, they are soon blamed for a very real murder.

I lived in West Baltimore for a time and saw the effects of gentrification taking over my neighborhood even in the short two years that I was there, so this book really resonated with me on a personal level. The premise reminded me of those memes of people claiming to shoot out the windows every few months to keep the rent low. While it’s a joke, there is a very real fear behind it, and this is a complex issue that Adia tackles with such a fresh voice and nuanced approach.

Ever loved a book series so much that you got it permanently etched on your skin? (That’s me) Punpun, the titular character seen to readers as a line drawing of a bird, has one of the most broken families I’ve ever read about. Still, I found solace in his life. Ending the series (even though I couldn’t sleep that night) I wanted to go back and start again just to see how much he has developed.

Most of the characters are pretty unlikeable which makes them realistic. Even with the way Asano draws them, you’d think he’s pretty pessimistic about the overall human spirit too. I will say that this book has nearly every trigger warning I can think of, so be careful.

This author blows me away with her unflinching approach to sex and sexuality.

This exposes complex and rarely approached relationships in a fresh and startling way. The issue of pain transference isn’t something often dealt with in fiction.

I think I love this book because it’s unsettling and honest. I like a book that upends me and makes me consider life in ways I hadn’t before.

I was unprepared for this book’s unrelenting pace, as it provides some of the most on-the-nose and funny skewering of our present era that I’ve read to date, via alien invasion and our coping strategy of viewing reality as a show. Anderson wields short chapters and surprising reveals in his last sentences as atypical, but effective, literary weapons. His framing of the whole work as a series of images, through chapter titles that read like illustrations, is brilliant and a quite literal representation of figurative language. Each time we’re reminded that this is a story about television, about fiction, about the comfortable lies we tell ourselves, the words strike a familiar beat, like a cinematic score reprising a theme. 

How can one not love a book about moving Traction Cities? In a magnificently imagined world where these Traction Cities fight for what is left of a destroyed future earth (left behind by us humans – from a stupid massive war to end all wars – go figure eh!).

Tom Natsworthy is aboard the traction city of London. London needs to feed and hunt for smaller cities to feed into its mighty jaws. Tom soon learns that London’s sinister hierarchy of scientists are building their own bomb – MEDUSA. Tom is thrown from London when he befriends a physically and emotionally scarred stow-away slave girl, Hester. 

The journey back to the ever-moving London to try and stop – MEDUSA is an amazing one – I must say. So well written, brilliant actually.

Provocative questions about redemption and second chances are at the heart of this story, and they made me dive deeper into my own ideas about these issues. The book shows that truth is never straightforward, and the burden of guilt and shame can complicate the lives of everyone involved.

I loved Macmillan’s story-telling style. Despite the novel unfolding gently—it’s a slow burn—I read it in 3 days. That’s a record for me. It’s a testament to how attached I became to the character’s plight and the suspense and tension created by the writer. It’s a profound and engrossing story.

It’s both plot and character-focused, and I was hooked from the beginning. It starts with a simple premise, then turns it on its head and introduces doubt and mystery. The author kept me guessing; just when I thought I knew what was happening, the ground shifted under my feet. There was… show more.