100 Books Like This Book Betrays My Brother

I was immediately hooked by this brilliant novel because of its unusual omniscient narrator, the Grim Reaper. Death, stressed out by the surfeit of “clients” he must deal with during World War II, reveals himself to be a sensitive narrator who sees everything. He especially keeps his eye on a young German girl, her loving foster parents, and the Jewish man they hide and protect.

I fell in love with these characters as they struggled with moral decisions, wartime hardship, danger, and tragedy. Despite the realistic portrayal of German life during WWII, I found this book to be an uplifting read. 

I just read this book—it’s been in my TBR pile since 2004—and it’s why I chose the theme of siblings. I loved the voice of this novel, the narrator’s young outsider perspective, her humour and heart—Daisy is such an unexpected character to tell a war story through. But what I loved most about the book is the sibling vibe in the house of her cousins. Edmond, Piper, Osbert, and Isaac—each of them is who she/he is because of their siblings. You could remove one from the plot (well, not Edmond!) but the others wouldn’t be themselves anymore. We feel that through Daisy’s thin bones: these people belong to each other, and maybe she could belong there too. 

I bought this book for the title, and happily there are Madonnas galore in this story, including in the apartment of “two motherless dudes,” dying teen Jessie T. Serrano and his dad. This quest novel—before he dies, Jessie sets up a mysterious trip to Europe for his three cousins, best friend and girlfriend—follows five grieving young adults on a doomed pilgrimage in a strange continent. If you have ever been a teen (as I assume you have) you will connect with the six (!!) point of view characters, each flawed but achingly human. "Not all stories are about love," says one of them, but this story most definitely is.

I picked up this book because of its haunting cover—a black-and-white photograph of a girl staring directly into the camera’s lens. From the very first line, I knew I’d encountered something special. Without giving too much away, this book follows a South African family—the Swarts—throughout their lives. What most stuck with me was Galgut’s narration: a slippery voice that fluidly moves between the first and third person. This novel is a masterclass in narrative deftness and possibility. I can’t recommend it highly enough.  

Sipho is a young man with nothing to lose. He drops out of high school and joins a car-stealing syndicate. The novel is part thriller and part coming-of-age tale, and the story takes the reader on an emotional journey as Sipho is sucked deeper and deeper into South African township crime. The author grew up in this township, and but for his other talents might have followed the same path as his protagonist. A remarkable look at the reality of township life and its effect on the youth.

I stumbled across this coming-of-age story by one of my favourite South African writers in a second-hand bookshop in Oxford when I was an undergraduate. I hadn’t been able to lose myself in fiction for a couple of years because I was so immersed in academic reading (history, mostly) – but this novel got me back on the wagon. It was the first novel I’d read in a long time that really made me want to write, to tell a story that could move a reader in the same way. In it, a white, middle-class girl growing up in a small colonial town in 1940s South Africa starts to see the world around her as it really is. Definitely one of those books that deserves a much wider audience.

This is at heart a coming-of-age novel, unshrinkingly autobiographical in its depiction of what is clearly the author’s own family and background: the privileged upbringing on a prosperous farm in the centre of South Africa, the elite schools she and her beloved brother, Paul, attend, the tensions between her stern father and the rebellious brother. All recounted in a deadpan faux-naïve voice, which is often hilarious but also needle-sharp in its puncturing of the posturings and pretensions of upper-middle-class white South Africans. But at the centre of the largely satirical account is the tragic story of the decline and fall of the beautiful, talented, hyper-sensitive Paul and his early death from a drug overdose. A masterpiece of controlled perspective and flexible tone. 

A brilliant book (who would dare publish this today?) by the author of the equally brilliant Ben’s Trumpet. In a South African township, some children expect their migrant-labourer fathers to arrive home after 10 months away. They wait, in a celebratory mood at first, but with increasing tiredness and uncertainty as the day and the night go by. They tell stories to stay awake. But the youngest falls asleep. A truck pulls up. It’s not their dads. Then the day dawns. And, with it, the fathers arrive.

There’s hardly any characterisation of the dads. They come to life through the children’s excitement and persistence. So does the deep emotion of an absent father returning. My boys have often chosen this book at bedtime. And they know it well enough to look up curiously when the dads arrive - to check if there are tears of happiness in my eyes.… show more.

I admired the creativity and originality of this epic novel. Brink has yoked the harsh political reality of South Africa with the frame of the One Hundred and One Nights. 

On the eve of cataclysmic change in nineties South Africa, a young South African émigré, Kristien, who lives in London, has been summoned back to her grandmother’s deathbed. In between the tense atmosphere before impending elections in post-apartheid South Africa, the ancient Ouma tells her granddaughter the history of all of the women in their Afrikaans family, blending fable, African folktale, and actual fact. One relative even turns into a tree! Once Ouma finishes her last story, there is one more tragedy which hits very close to home.

I loved the wide sweep of this novel, which reminded me somewhat of Faulkner, that traces the literal Calvinism and fierce militarism of the first Afrikaans settlers to South Africa—and… show more.