Books like Thin Air

I am not frightened by Cthulhu, the tentacled monsters waiting in the depths of outer space or the ocean. I am mesmerized by them. Lovecraft, often labeled a horror writer, is one of the greatest literary fantasists. His imagination is boundless, and he is as adept at describing strange new environments as he is at evoking a sense of cosmic dread.

This classic novel combines Lovecraft’s signature monsters with an incredible dreamlike atmosphere that grips you and does not let you go. When you stand at the summit of the Mountains of Madness and glimpse what lies on the other side, you are torn between fear and fascination. For me, at least, fascination always wins.   

I first read this book when my baby son was teething. I cradled him in my arms, walked around, and kept reading, unwilling to put it down. Since then, I have reread it several times. The goal of fantasy and science fiction is to transport you into a different world, and Silverberg, a veteran SF writer, knows how to do just that.

The impossible mountain of the book, the Wall, so tall and so sheer that nobody who tries to climb it comes back unchanged (or comes back at all), has loomed in my imagination ever since. I want to be the one to scale it and to find out what waits at the summit. And even though I know the ending, the thrill of discovery is still there every time I reread it.

I love cats and mountains. Both are unrequited loves. I am allergic to cats and have a mild fear of heights. But this is precisely the reason why I am fascinated by informed descriptions of mountaineering in books, especially if the climb leads the reader toward something strange and otherworldly.

Climbing the famous El Cap in Yosemite is a challenge even for experienced mountaineers. But it becomes doubly so when you encounter a ghostly apparition while suspended in a fragile cradle thousands of feet above the ground.

This novel, by turns thrilling, touching, and frightening, satisfied both my love for fantasy and my desire to know more about the actual experience of mountain climbing.   

I sometimes imagine what it would be like to wake up on top of a snowbound mountain, knowing you are alone–and then to hear footsteps outside…It is safe to imagine, of course, because I am NOT alone in a chalet in the Swiss Alps but in my own home, surrounded by my family. However, for a character in this stunning European novel, this is how it all starts.

And then, as you follow the incredible twists and turns of the plot and try to puzzle out the relationships among the characters, you realize that nothing is as it seems. The novel perfectly captures the brooding atmosphere of the Swiss Alps, which I visited as a tourist, although I did not end up in the abandoned valley haunted by echoes. I am glad I did not–but thrilled to read about the characters who did.

I was on a spiritual retreat when I found an old, dusty copy of Lost Horizon in the retreat’s library. Some of this book is surely dated—having a Christian monk as the head of a Tibetan nirvana hasn’t aged well—but the heart and soul of James Hilton’s tale of a world gone mad and one man’s discovery of a hidden paradise feels more relevant than ever. We’re all looking for Shangri-La, for the hidden paradise in our own hearts, and Hilton, through his compelling, heartfelt story, points the way.

The multimodal format is perfect for this moving new book by Kate Messner.

I loved how the main character learned new things about himself with every peak he climbed, the number of obstacles that were in his way, and how directly he examined metaphorical language.

The backstory about the father really came to a satisfying conclusion, and I felt like it was well-earned. 

I love this classic novel; it is one of my old favorites.

Nowhere in the genre of young adult literature does there seem to be an author more subversive than Paula Danziger; here (and in the companion novel The Cat Ate My Gymsuit), she directly encourages the young reader to question adult authority and suggests that with protests and education about what rights the law gives (and withholds from) young people, it might be possible to effect change and increase their rights.

I also found it great that the novel shows the protagonist’s parents in raw realism–the father as a hypocritical, cheap, unlikable domestic despot, the mother as a shrinking violet who at first tends to excuse the father and conform to his expectations, but eventually starts questioning her stance when she sees her daughters rebel.

I read this book in high school and absolutely loved the entire idea, of essentially a prisoner of war escape plan similar to The Great Escape, set in a science fiction universe against the scale and scope of a planet. 

I love how the author took a main character that had been so strong and tough through seven previous books and made her vulnerable, gave her new room to grow, and allowed some of her supporting cast to shine as well.

I was absolutely hooked by the theme of chaotic teenage girldom and hilariously relatable characters, but the thoughtful discussions centering on disability and identity were simply fabulous!

I greatly enjoyed the portrayal of universal feelings of youth—confusion, longing for adventure, and a quest for meaning. The protagonist, who is autistic and Palestinian, highlights representation the world desperately needs more of.

This novel's compelling cover reeled in this reader straightaway and, indeed, delivers with a plot that captures the gothic folk horror genre in a tidy and well-written package.

As I read it, it felt like Harvest Home and The Wicker Man were seated on either shoulder. Overarching the story is also a "morality play" at work, expertly woven in. Bonus points for historical roots and an English village setting.

So original, so folky horror, so good and, simply put, a treat.