Books like We Were the Future — picked by fans

Asking me to pick my favorite Amos Oz book is like asking me to pick my favorite child: they are all uniquely wonderful. Still, this book best captures the gossipy joys and frustrations of life on a frontier kibbutz.

At age 15, Oz left his home in Jerusalem to become a member of a socialist commune in the countryside and later described his life there as the “ultimate university of human nature.” I love how his wry early novel transforms one imaginary kibbutz into a microcosmic mirror in which we can all see our own petty vanities. 

The kibbutz where I once lived had been founded by hardcore Romanian Marxists, so decades later, I was shocked to learn its factory was listed on the NASDAQ exchange. The work of Stanford economist Ran Abramitzky helped me to make sense of the causes and effects of the 100-year-old kibbutz movement’s turbulent evolution from hard socialism to soft capitalism.

This book distills his academic research into clear and readable prose (rare for an economist!), illustrated with anecdotes from his extended family’s kibbutz experiences.

Full confession: I only picked up this novel in my attempt to read every book with “kibbutz” in the title. Lucky me!

I became a fan of Michael Ohayon, the moody outsider who stars in Batya Gur’s series of Hebrew whodunnits, all set in various closed societies and institutions. Ohayon is like an Israeli Inspector Rebus, and no amount of duplicity by the members at an indebted kibbutz can keep him from cracking the case.

The novel doesn’t paint a pretty picture of communal life, but I recognized many of the fatal flaws of the real kibbutz movement magnified to deadly dimensions in this slow burn of a murder mystery.

I get professional envy every time I read one of Daniel Gavron’s vivid collections of literary journalism. He is such an attentive observer and compassionate interviewer, and the conversations he preserves on every page bring a diverse range of Israelis to life in all their hopes and fears.

Published at the turn of the millennium, this book is a classic of kibbutz history in which Gavron, a former kibbutznik, travels to communities in various stages of decline or revival. His book inspired my own return to Israel to discover more about the uncertain future of Israel’s utopian movement. I can’t thank him enough for that.

I admire every detail in this beautifully written family saga that reaches from Lithuania to Jerusalem.

When Amos Oz’s family escapes the antisemitism of Europe in the 1940s and resettles in Palestine, they seem to construct their new home of books rather than mortar. And beyond the towering bookcases, the volumes in twelve languages, lies a city of ancient stone torn by history and religion and competing claims.

Oz’s profound and personal understanding of the Holocaust leads him to conclude that Israel will be stronger by ending the occupation and forging paths that help to unite Jews and Palestinians.

I love the truth, the fact that empathy and compassion have the potential to heal the deepest wounds.

I typically like to read original fiction rather than a video game story adapted into a book, but this book was the exception. I love it when a story focuses on social issues and the way they affect ordinary people. Even though the world and location of Bioshock are fantastical, the self-serving and corrupt capitalistic society hits too close to home.

Seeing the worst of humanity and the way things quickly devolve into chaos and anarchy when society's basic needs are ignored in favor of profit absolutely terrified me. And while, yes, there are definitely traditionally scary things in this story, the scariest thing about it is the lack of human compassion the residents of Rapture have for each other.

Even if the book didn’t have the terrifying Splicers climbing on the ceilings or the precariously built city at the bottom of the ocean, its unflinching look at the negative… show more.

This, and its sequel, is truly one of the strangest books I’ve ever read. It’s a punk rock road trip following Danielle Cain as she struggles to deal with the grief of losing her best friend while also going up against some truly bizarre characters and creatures in a utopian squatter town called Freedom. I loved the raw and unapologetic attitude of the main protagonist and the diversity of the supporting cast. This book is dark and brooding, fun and poignant in equal measure. It’s a paranormal riot and I loved every minute of it, and the follow up called The Barrow Will Send What It May.

I loved this book for its dissection of the human relationships formed against a background of wilderness.

With survival comes tension, and though this throws discord into the lives of the characters, it makes for a compelling plot. This is one of those books that will form an indelible bond with the reader, who cannot help but imagine his/her interaction with the cast, should he/she have been part of the story.

Once again, some of our most profound insights into contemporary culture derive from a deep understanding of history. For example, why is there a fundamental distrust of surfaces and shiny “bling”?

In The Republic, and in “Book X” in particular, Plato outlines a theory of images, truth, deception, and appearances that we continue to relive in everyday life.

The key to understanding our lives is to enlarge our perspectives, and human behavior hasn’t changed much in 2000 years.

Plato gives several suggestions for maintaining stability in organized society, including guarding against the influence of Sophists, who manipulate language to manipulate their listeners, reminding me of our salesmen today.

Especially valuable is his allegory of the cave, where educators present images to an audience chained in place since early childhood. The glare of the sun awaits anyone who manages to leave the cave, and coming back in won’t be easy, but those who leave and find genuine truth need to come back and serve those still in the cave. Make the world a better place.