100 Books Like Vincent Can't Sleep

Like most kids, I loved watching Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade, especially the fantastic balloons. Even more, I loved reading about the man who invented those balloons in this spirited book.

Tony Sarg was a childhood inventor who later made marionettes that moved so lifelike audiences were entranced. I followed his story from wooden puppets to helium balloons that could move like puppets through Sweet’s incredible art. Part cartoon illustrations, part assemblages of Sweet’s handmade puppets and toys created in Sarg’s can-do vein and peppered with fanciful fonts, this book urged me to grab clay, crayons, colored pencils, fabric, paints, and play. Nonfiction never looked so much fun.

Sometimes, the biggest stories are best told in the fewest words. I felt the pull of a subject I knew nothing about by the author’s lyrical use of first-person voice. The river of dust, literally a band of desert dust that travels from Africa to South America, tells its own story.

The friendly, almost wistful tone begins with the ancient continent of Pangea and how the two continents were once one. Like the dust that blows on its long journey, I felt transported across grasslands and rivers, deep into the ocean, and into the Amazon jungles to replenish soil. I never imagined dust would be so interesting.

The story left me wanting to know more, and pages of well-researched back matter answered my questions. Mello’s landscapes swirl with urgency, adding texture to the spare prose. 

There are many books about Thoreau and Walden, even for kids. But Frederic Tudor? Who is he, and what is his relation to Thoreau? Curiosity led me to pick up this book; the scope of this little-known historical event kept me turning pages. The two characters are introduced in parallel prose poems. A pond, the third character, connects those different people.

I was entranced by the story of the naturalist and the businessman, both influenced by Walden Pond. While Thoreau wrote notes in his journal, Tudor chopped frozen blocks of ice to ship to India. The author balanced the contrasts between the men with a light hand, backdropped by the seasons. Detailed watercolor and pencil art carry the scale of the account from Thoreau’s tiny cabin to Tudor’s ship crossing the equator. This is nonfiction that transcends mere information—a masterful performance.

My astronomer kid self adored this book. My adult self was astonished by this accomplished work of nonfiction. Dual narratives take the stage on each page. First, the star that is trying so hard to be born, and second, the girl Cecilia Payne who tries so hard to understand the natural world. As the star goes through various phases, so does Cecilia, who longs to make scientific discoveries. Brilliantly told, the stories of the star and Cecilia parallel each other. I found myself going back and forth between them, marveling at inset pencil and walnut ink illustrations that never overpowered the text.

As a girl, I, too, loved natural science and wished this book had been published in my day. I might have been prepared to carve my way into a man’s world, as Cecilia did. Back matter fills in how stars are born—Cecilia’s discovery—plus a timeline of her amazing… show more.

On Vincent van Gogh’s death, and the subsequent death of his brother, Theo, six months later, Johanna van Gogh-Bonger – at only twenty-eight years old – became keeper and advocate of Vincent’s immense collection of paintings, sketches, letters, and illustrations. 

Whilst grieving and caring for her infant son, Jo translated those letters. That we are able to read Vincent’s letters and to hear his words add both depth and insight to our appreciation of his art. This book is our chance to connect with a Vincent beyond the tortured artist that contemporary society portrays. These letters are one of Jo’s many gifts to us. 

Graduating from design school with a BFA and having taught Art Enrichment Classes in the schools for many years, I thought I had read every book about Vincent Van Gogh.

But when I read Heiligman’s young adult novel, I finally knew Vincent and felt his passion, literally through his letters to his brother.

And, truly, is there any better way to learn about Vincent than reading in his own words about his passion to paint?

Local to me, I’ve been familiar with the gorgeous poster and mural art of Greg Newbold. More recently he has teamed up with his wife Amy to create a series of picture books showcasing the styles of renowned artists. This first book takes snowmen and imagines what they would look like if painted by artists such as Van Gogh, Dali, Picasso, O’Keefe, and others. An excellent introduction to the painting styles of famous artists, with informative text to reinforce the idea that “not all artists paint the same.” 

I’m fascinated by historical fiction that sticks to the “facts” of a person’s life but imagines and richly describes that person’s inner world—in this case Georgia O’Keefe’s. The novel focuses on the young painter’s love affair with Alfred Stieglitz, an established photographer and art dealer. Before the art world knows Georgia O’Keefe as a ground-breaking artist in her own right, she is introduced as the female nude in Stieglitz’s photographs. Does her art gain notice in part because of this scandalous introduction, or does it merely eroticize her and her work? And while she learns much from Stieglitz, what does this relationship cost her? This book is masterfully “painted” with O’Keefe-like brush strokes that assemble a tantalizing picture and still leave much to the imagination.

In trademark Vonnegut fashion, Bluebeard uses humor to juxtapose the horror and violence of World War II. In this way, it is similar to Slaughterhouse-Five. 

However, Vonnegut skewers the art movement born out of the war’s aftermath: abstract expressionism. Bluebeard is the story of Rabo Karabekian (who first appeared in Breakfast of Champions), a war veteran and failed illustrator who accidentally found success as a contemporary of Rothko and Pollock. At the end of his life, he’s ready to unveil one final secret locked away in a damp potato barn.

I was hungry for a great piece of comic writing when a friend handed me this book, and it delivered so much more than laughter.

Once I’d tuned in to the language, I ended up shambling through 30s London alongside impecunious painter Gulley Jimson. A humble man, driven by a holy need to make the sort of art which, it turns out, nobody wants, he encounters a world of squalor and beauty, both physical and moral.

I grew to love him and his daily observations on the play of weather and light on the Thames, which form a sort of sketchbook. As Jimson’s physical health declines, he grips beauty wherever he finds it. Theroux, Lessing, and Updike all rated this author.