14 Books on Finding Home
Featuring family sagas, sexy graphic novels, voyeurs, and the missing 2%
Last month, I rounded up some spooky books for Halloween, and with the holidays now upon us I thought I’d offer some books on another theme: finding home.
In developing this list, I wanted to think not so much about stories set at home but where the narrators and protagonists are struggling to find where they’re at home, where families fracture, and where they find new connection in the aftermath.
Family Affairs
For an Ensemble Cast, Looking at the Wreck — The Leftovers, Tom Perrotta
If you know me, you know I’m a sucker for The Leftovers. I’m not going to weigh in on whether the TV show or book is better, but this is a polyphonic read on how people find connection in the wake of tragedy—who do we want to be in the aftermath?
For a Weepy Page Turner— Everything I Never Told You, Celeste Ng
I believe I read this book in the time it took to fly from Portland, Maine to New Orleans, tears included. This slim novel is my favorite of Ng’s books
For an Intergenerational Epic — Middlesex, Jeffrey Eugenides
This family saga moves from Greece to Michigan, telling the story of one family over several generations. Though the book is over 500 pages, Eugenides does not miss a beat on the details, and an attentive reader will be rewarded for their close attention on the line level.
For a Brilliant Look at Care and Illness — Goodbye, Vitamin, Rachel Khong
Poignant, understated, Goodbye, Vitamin offers such rich and original reflections on family, love, memory, and illness. I loved the daily entries and found that the white space between vignettes adds great drama to the storytelling.
Graphic Narratives on Inextricable Bonds
For Laugh out Loud, Broad City Vibes — Girl Juice, Benji Nate
This was one of my favorite books last year. I picked it up at Drawn & Quarterly in Montreal and absolutely loved it. This episodic graphic novel follows four roommates, culminating, unexpectedly, in a story of an exorcism. Wildly funny and never flags. 10/10
For Self-Discovery — Roaming, Jillian and Mariko Tamaki
I spoke with cousins Jillian and Mariko Tamaki for The Boston Globe last year. Roaming follows three friends on their first trip to New York. In beautiful illustration, it looks at each character’s developing sense of self and what they look for in a home.
For the Thespian — Fun Home, Alison Bechdel
Theater lovers may know Fun Home first by its adaptation for the stage (the musical won five Tony awards in 2015). The graphic memoir of its source material offers a flooring look at queer family and identity.
Unexpected Homes
For Eavesdroppers and Coffee Shop Dreamers — Big Swiss, Jen Beagin
I recently moved and joked to friends that my new living situation is Big Swiss coded. If you’ve read the novel, maybe that means something to you. This book has seemingly become Hudson, NY canon and is wildly funny and strange, good for eavesdroppers and people who enjoy imagining the lives of others.
For a Gorgeous Meditation on Making Home — Housekeeping, Marilynne Robinson
When tragedy rips sisters Ruth and Lucille from their family, every moment in their lives becomes weighted and haunted by grief. We feel the characters living on the precipice and just don’t know if they’ll ever tip over.
For a Fresh Take on Westerns— How Much of These Hills is Gold, C. Pam Zhang
This was my favorite novel of 2021, a powerful story of two siblings. The structure in this book is doing so much. At first I thought the chapter titles were good, but then getting to the second part and seeing them invoked again layers meaning and memories onto other memories and objects in such a rich, original way.
For a Comic Making Cousin Duo — The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, Michael Chabon
I read this book a few years back and when I reached the ending, I felt that every page in this book is earned: this tells a story about making family in extraordinary circumstances. A really well thought-out, poignant ending.
Nonfiction that Seeks Home
For a Home in Literature — Fire Island, Jack Parlett
I’ve still never been to Fire Island (will 2025 be the year? Probably not haha), but I do feel like I’ve spent a fair deal of time thinking around the island with Jack Parlett’s book, which investigates queer people’s connection to this place through literature.
For a Lyrical Journey through Family Relationships — The Magical Language of Others, E.J. Koh
The writing in this book is so understated, and then it completely guts you. In beautiful prose, the narrator examines her relationship to love, an eating disorder, separation from her parents, and her draw to writing.
For an Anthology that Gets at the Post-Dinner Feels — What My Mother and I Don’t Talk About, edited by Michele Filgate
I devoured this anthology over a long weekend years ago. These essays orbit around the book’s central question—what we don’t talk about with the people closest to us—in thoughtful ways. I particularly liked the last two essays by Brandon Taylor and Leslie Jamison—about loving her mother and trying to learn more about who she was in a previous love life.
Check out the full home-seeking book list here.
Reference Section
If you ever find yourself in Montreal, definitely check out Drawn & Quarterly. They sell the graphic novels they publish as well as a number of other fabulous books.
You can read an excerpt of Middlesex in The New Yorker’s archives. The passage on “The Obscure Object” is probably my favorite section of the book—if you’ve never read, you’re in for a treat.
I also spoke with Jack Parlett for Esquire when his book came out in 2022. You can read that conversation here.
Currently reading: a galley of Alex Dimitrov’s new poetry collection, Ecstasy, and I’m absolutely loving it. It’s out in April from Knopf and you can read this poem that I love, “Pink Tesla,” on his Substack.
I also bought his collection, Love and Other Poems, and the first poem met me from head to toe (“I don’t want to sound reasonable/but I need to be in love immediately.”!!)
Finally, I’m spending today re-reading Rebecca Lee’s The City is a Rising Tide. I reread this on Thanksgiving in Asheville three years ago and it became a tradition I’ve repeated every year since. It’s a slim, gorgeous book to while away in a sitting when everyone is winding down for the day. The novel is a story of unrequited love, which I think is the perfect relationship for fiction.
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