George Saunders, author
Lately I’ve been going back to read some classic works that I had, in my zany life-arc, missed, in the (selfish) hope of opening up new frequencies in my work. So: Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll (the zaniness seems to lack agenda and yet still says something big and political); then on to Speak, Memory by Nabokov, newly reminded that language alone (dense, beautiful) can power the reader along; and, coming soon, The Power Broker by Robert A Caro – a real ambition-inspirer, I’m imagining, in its scale and daring.
• Vigil by George Saunders is published by Bloomsbury. To support the Guardian, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
Matt, Guardian reader
Jonathan Franzen’s The Corrections is the rare novel that manages to be both a state-of-the-nation epic and an exquisitely painful family row. This particular family is so meticulously observed that reading about them feels less like fiction and more like overhearing neighbours arguing through a thin wall. Franzen’s great trick is to make misery funny without ever quite letting it off the hook. Nobody escapes unexamined, least of all the reader: I started off feeling superior but ended up recognising uncomfortable and unflattering fragments of myself scattered throughout the book. The Corrections is not cosy, and it’s not kind, but it is deeply humane. It suggests that love persists not because people are redeemable, but because they’re not. A brilliant, bracing novel that corrects nothing, yet understands everything.
Ti, Guardian reader
I’ve been reading JL Carr’s A Month in the Country. At a time when the world is ready to greet you with news of yet another horror every morning and people yearn for an analogue respite from doomscrolling or distracting ourselves with our phones, this short tale of a man restoring a medieval painting in a rural town in England is the balm we need. It’s witty, thoughtful, contemplative at times, and made me look up words such as “chancel”, “catafalque”, and “corbel”, immersing myself in the narrator’s craft and a summer in Yorkshire.
Erin Somers, author
Lately, the great thrill of my life is to read classic books alongside my 10-year-old daughter, who is a big reader. Recently, we read Ethan Frome, which is my husband’s favourite book. This unleashed a sort of Edith Wharton mania in my household. There is a proposition in the works to make Ethan Frome baseball caps. I recommend a reread, for those who haven’t engaged since high school, and I also recommend picking up The New York Stories of Edith Wharton. Start with the last one: Roman Fever. For something more contemporary, I recommend reading Gwendoline Riley’s work in advance of the publication of her new book, The Palm House, in April. Both First Love and My Phantoms are masterpieces of dark comedy.
• The Ten Year Affair by Erin Somers is published by Canongate (£18.99). To support the Guardian, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
Elle, Guardian reader
I wanted to read more this year, and am already on book number five of 2026. A successful resolution! I picked up Valley of the Dolls by Jacqueline Susann as an impulse purchase, having heard of the film. The book felt glamorous and grotesque. It reminded me of the earliest part of The Bell Jar – when she’s in New York, feeling like an outsider looking in, desperately searching for happiness. The three women at its centre felt real, fatally flawed, impressionable, strong and – at times – hopeful. And I’m only partway through Butter by Asako Yuzuki, translated by Polly Barton, but loving it. I’ve never been so hungry and also so conscious of my own body while reading. In the same way that Rika describes feeling Kajii’s presence near her, I felt it last night while cooking. And so I used an extra pat of butter.
Finn, Guardian reader
Mrs Caliban by Rachel Ingalls is a quick read at around 120 pages. It follows a lonely housewife, Dorothy, in 60s/70s/80s west coast America and her day-to-day existence. Dorothy knows her husband Fred is having an affair but the pair are “too unhappy to divorce”. She has also dealt with the death of her son, a miscarriage and the death of a dog in her past. She hears on the radio of a 6ft 7in “amphibious” frog-man escaping from a research lab - this creature enters her dining room and the two begin a passionate love affair which she keeps secret from her husband and the frog’s (named “Larry”) captors who are pursuing him. Mrs Caliban was funny in its absurdity, uniqueness, surrealism and originality, and also extremely sad when you learn of Dorothy’s past trauma and Larry’s torture in the lab. The novel also explores a number of key feminist themes, including the subversion of domesticity and critiques of marriage.
Federico, Guardian reader
I am currently reading The Dream Hotel by Laila Lalami – a very current dystopia of state surveillance and invasive technology. The portrayal of how anyone can be perceived as a threat by totalitarian states is bloodcurdling. I will use this novel with my ESL students, as I am sure it will create fascinating debates.
