10 Book Recommendations From a Published Writer

A friend of mine asked me for a list of ten classic novels that he should make a point of reading. Talk about a request that should be easy for a writer, but ultimately proves so difficult! I managed to pull it off after telling myself, “Okay, this isn’t a list of the ten best books, just ten books that I like — and that my friend might like, too. I can do that.”

I figured I might as well share the result of my list-making labor. So here it is.

The Brothers Karamazov by Fydor Dostoevsky (1880)

This is the book that seems to lift narrative fiction to the outer reaches of its epistemological potential. Dostoevsky presents the highest and lowest in humanity, the filthiest depravity and loftiest soulfulness, and he expertly intertwines them within a marvelously coherent narrative structure. Nowhere has the human endeavor to make sense of existence been more dramatically rendered.

War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy (1867)

If this book is long, it’s because it contains damn near everything. Tolstoy went with “War and Peace,” but he could just have easily called his book “Suffering and Joy,” “Life and Death,” or any other all-encompassing dichotomy you can think of. While everything about the book is tremendous, there’s a special beauty in the characters’ uber-realistic spiritual awakenings, which always occur under duress and among fascinating circumstances.

Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace (1996)

At its worst when unnecessarily ridiculous, this 90’s behemoth is at its best when Wallace explores the inexplicable sadness so prevalent in modern life. We humans are more comfortable, materially, than ever before, and yet so many of us are spiritually maimed and psychologically damaged. Why? Nobody seems as curious as David Foster Wallace.

Our Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston (1937)

This lively novel is a dazzling prism of rich dialogue and florid characterizations. Hurston alternates seamlessly between the playful dialect of her characters and the nuanced prose of the general narration, displaying her tremendous feel for sonorous language in both. In a world where black characters are too often portrayed as voiceless, Hurston’s vivid creations are always the loudest voices in the room.

Hopscotch by Julio Cortazar (1963)

By all accounts, post-war Paris was a dynamic stomping ground for the artistically-and-intellectually minded, and no one captures the odd combination of ennui and excitement better than Cortazar. Following the moody protagonist from one debacle to the next, this novel mixes philosophical musings and romantic odes with the freewheeling abandon of the jazz improvisers that the characters so adore. If you’re into smoke-filled rooms, wine-fueled debates, and long walks in the rain, then this is the book for you.

The Red and the Black by Stendhal (1830)

Many readers have noted that this classic feels more modern than its 1830 publication date should allow for. Stendhal wasn’t a time traveler, but he did develop an acute sense for psychology that his contemporaries struggled to apply to the novel form. His characters do seemingly crazy things for ugly, despicable reasons — making them perfect studies in the reality of human nature.

My Struggle by Karl Ove Knausgaard (2009–2011)

Many contemporary writers have doubted their own ability to write fiction, wary of an art form that becomes meaningless the moment you decide not to believe in it. Karl Ove Knausgaard stands at the center of this movement, and his epic work of autofiction serves as its central artifact. Far more than a theoretical experiment, My Struggle is an exquisite piece of writing where simplicity and complexity share a literary abode and contemporary western life passes before an astute critical eye.

Middlemarch by George Elliot (1871)

This book is a human drama of truly epic proportions — 880 pages of withering ambitions, moral energy, and stubborn love. Each character has their own set of unique (and uniquely real) problems, and Elliot sets them at cross purposes with the quiet ingenuity of a true master. The prose is also deliciously precise, with the author plucking as if from air the perfect metaphor for every occasion.

For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemmingway (1940)

In this war narrative, Hemingway blends love and violence and makes them throb with his characteristic firmness of style. The epic of the Spanish Civil War deserves its place on this list for one chapter alone: that in which a small village’s republicans brutally murder their supposedly fascist neighbors. Nowhere else in literature is the horror and madness of war so expertly and painfully rendered.

Gilead by Marilynne Robinson (2004)

This is a quiet book, a kind book — that rare sort of book that could genuinely make its reader a better person. Told from the perspective of an aging midwestern pastor, the story is full of tender reflections and hard-hitting regrets. With just enough plot and conflict to keep the story moving, Robinson’s masterpiece provides a quiet resting place in a world gone mad.

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Ah, and if you’re wondering about the “published writer” thing in the title — no, I have not yet had the honor of putting a novel on the shelves, but I have had several pieces of fiction and non-fiction published in reputabale online spaces. So, to keep yourself sated until the big novel debut, check out “Counting Chickens” in the Inlandia Journal, “The Ultimate Self-Effacement” on Misery Tourism, and “Fragmented Mythologies: A Guatemalan Tale” on Literary Traveler. I hope you enjoy my work :)