100 Books Like Washington Black

A true marvel of a novel. It follows the famous jester Tyll Ulenspiegel and the Winter Queen and several learned and lethal Jesuit priests (among others). Most novels that cut between storylines lose momentum and direction. Tyll takes bold leaps and keeps transforming into new adventures, new truths, a new vision of the seventieth century that subtly mixes historical fact and magical possibility.  

What a breathtaking scope Tokarczuk gives us! This Polish novelist was new to me when I first picked this book up, but even though she won a Nobel Prize, I think she will be new to most U.S. readers.

This book begins as a meditation on travel and human movement, moving episodically through different fictional and historical plots, investigating sexualities, artificial humans, geographies, and the human compulsion not to sit still. But this just scratches the surface, as she has a kind of Garcia Márquez touch for identifying stories where bodies (both real and fake) exert their magic, even as the stories she tells are purportedly historical.

Did an 18th-century noblewoman during wartime smuggle a jar that contained Chopin’s heart in her undergarments? Tokarczuk answers: Is this so unbelievable? 

It’s 1764 on Manhattan Island, and a stranger from London arrives at a small town called New York. He expects to receive a thousand pounds. A cast of dynamic characters appear. There are intrigues and adventures. All writers try to be vibrant on the page—to write smart, vivid, witty descriptions and dialogue. And then you come upon a writer like Francis Spufford, who is able, somehow, do it a degree or two better than everyone else.   

Because my father was a prisoner of war of the Japanese in Burma in World War II, I expected this book to depress me, and I dreaded reading it. But as one of my characters suffered the same fate, I thought I should at least give it a try. And what a pleasant surprise I got.

Yes, it is grim. Yes, it told me things I’d rather not know about what went on in the jungle prison camps. But it also has a sparkling narrative, and it’s romantic, erotic, moving, and exciting. In short, a great surprise and a wonderful, gripping read.

This novel, told from a slave woman’s perspective, illuminates the time of maximal oppression in the slave colony of Jamaica, where White men sexually and physically abused enslaved Black women at whim. Lilith, the main character, came alive to me as her rage and despair grew with the multiple attacks on her body and spirit. 

It took me back to the anguish I felt discovering the journals of Thomas Thistlewood and his chronicling of close to 4,000 acts of rape carried out on his female Black slaves. When I visited Jamaica for the first time, I included Westmorland Parish as a stop. It was there that Thistlewood perpetrated his atrocities – an appalling example of the conditions under which enslaved women and girls lived during this period. 

This recommendation is a work of fiction. Overall, Allende is an incredible storyteller whose characters seem so real that by the end of the book, you feel like you know them in the same way you know family or an old friend. Island Beneath the Sea, set in 18th - 19th century Haiti then in New Orleans, is a story that illustrates the beautiful messes we create in our lives through those that we love and those that we hate. Drawing on the chaos of American slavery and the Haitian Revolution, Allende’s book draws on themes related to slavery, politics, history, and family drama all of which illustrate what can happen when cultural values (i.e. social constructions of race) are attached to specific bodies (i.e. Black and White women).

Who decides how history is written? Andrea Levy raises this question in her epic novel about Jamaican slavery and its aftermath. An older woman named July writes the narrative of her life so that her son and his children will know her story.

She was born enslaved, and she recounts everyday indignities and violence, rivalries among enslaved household workers, and attempts to find love and connection in a society that denies humanity to the enslaved. Writing with humor and generosity, Levy imagines a world that is obscured by official histories written by enslavers.

July’s story and her struggles to narrate her story help readers understand that history is made in small moments and momentous ones and that some stories will always be beyond our grasp.

The story is set in Canada during the 1920s but Baxter, the main character, is an immigrant from the Caribbean and exemplifies a consequence of the region’s slave history. He is part of the diaspora of descendants seeking better lives in other parts of the world. But although in a different country, Baxter does not escape the pressure to accept a position in a subservient class.

Mayr effectively creates the sense of threat that pervades Baxter’s environment, intensified by his sexual orientation. A saving grace is his peer group of fellow porters. Initially they seem cruel and disinterested, but when faced by oppressive authority, they rally around him. This book reminded me that though the physical confinement of slavery has ended, the devaluation of Blackness continues.

This book astonishes me every time I open its pages, and I return to these stories again and again. Taking the 18th-century urban city of Bridgetown, Barbados, as its canvas, Fuentes uncovers, often using fragmentary sources, the lives of Black enslaved and free women of color, narrating their violent stories of survival in ways that broke my heart.

Equally important, the power of Fuentes’ writing forces me to interrogate how histories of vulnerable women are produced while they are alive and how to reckon with how archives produce and reinscribe violence on their disfigured bodies after death. It is impossible not to feel the full weight of my responsibility as a scholar after reading this book.

It is the first book I hand to students who want to write about Black women, regardless of their geographic interests.

I enjoyed commenting on early drafts of this dramatic Georgian historical fiction written by my wife Elizabeth about her great-great-great-grandmother: painstakingly researched and vividly portrayed, it’s about love, betrayal, and survival. Lucy, strong-willed daughter of English landed gentry, born in the late 18th century, married Sam Lord, a plantation owner and fortune hunter from Barbados, at a time when women were their husband’s chattels with no rights even over the children. Abused and imprisoned by him in Barbados, she escaped with the help of enslaved people after giving birth at sea, braving disease and cruelty, and witnessing the abject misery of slavery in her descent from a life of pampered luxury to a struggle for survival in a far-off land.