96 books like Feet Of Clay

As much a book about language as anything else, its central message may be the need for a love of education, but don’t let that put you off. It’s full of wordplay, puns, and wonderful whimsy.

Take, for instance the ‘watchdog’ called ‘Tock’ who’s large, can speak, and has alarm clocks on each side of his body. You might call it ‘picaresque,’ you might call it ‘bonkers,’ but never ‘predictable’!

I don’t remember that it contains a sword.

Technically, this book is science fiction instead of fantasy–aliens, spaceships, planet-hopping, check. But Adams isn’t particularly interested in the science or the predictive aspects as he is in finding a backdrop for his hilarious satire. His phrasing is so deft, his jokes so devastating that people are quoting him decades later. They’re still some of the funniest books ever written.

But there’s a bitter wounded heart under it all that comes out in a wistful strain of melancholy, which makes it all ring true. It’s funny because it has something deep and urgent to say about humans and our nature. But also because every traveler knows what he means by something “almost, but not quite, entirely unlike tea.”

It’s hard to beat Scalzi for nailing the execution of a high concept.

Redshirts could have so easily been nothing but a gimmick, but Scalzi really gets into the guts of the horror and humor of being a character written for the sole purpose of dying. I picked up the book with a cynical eye, expecting to hate it, but it drew me in.

Scalzi went so much further with the concept, shined a light on every corner of the idea, that he managed to create a deconstruction and reconstruction of the same trope at the same time. 

Finishing Titus Groan, the first volume of the Gormenghast series, made me feel as though I was one of the few people to have scaled a towering, oddly-shaped mountain.

Set in the sprawling, half-ruined Castle Gormenghast, Titus Groan centers on the constrained, almost frozen relations between a declining noble family and their many servants, some of whom strain against the social order with all the energy of Satan in Paradise Lost.

Peake’s work is by turns inspiring and maddening: he would turn a phrase or describe a scene in such an arresting way that I couldn’t imagine how he pulled it off; at other times, I scratched my head at the loosely plotted, self-indulgent writing. But I’ve also never read anything like the Gormenghast series: Peake has such a gift for arresting imagery and wordplay that his work seems like a novel-length set of Edward Gorey drawings.

Robert Sheckley stands out from his contemporaries of the golden age of science fiction by being not just great but also often very funny. 

Sheckley has a wry, insightful wit, which puts him in a class of his own among the giants of the post-WW2 era. Start with his eight stories of the AAA Ace Interplanetary Decontamination Service. Great idea, great characters, great settings (two shysters running a fly-by-night planetary fixer-upper service, on the cheap): they are light, effortless, unpretentious, insightful, and brilliant. 

It’s basically Ghostbusters in space. What more could you want?

Like a lot of folks, I found out about this book when the movie version came out, Who Framed Roger Rabbit.

The world-building in the movie was so compelling and unique that I decided to pick up the book. And I’m so glad that I did. The plot in the book is much more complicated, and the social satire is even sharper. One of my all-time favorite noir mysteries.

No one, and I do mean no one, can craft a sentence like Larry Doyle.

What Usagi Yojimbo is to a katana, Doyle is to the English language, building statements that manage to at once stretch the imagination but be immediately recognizable. Doyle will describe a feeling, an instant, a moment that is universal in words you’ve never seen strung together.

On top of that, this book is a hilarious romp in an alternate history with monsters and mad science, and it manages to pull off one of the most incredible narrative twists I’ve ever seen.

I’m cheating a little with this one since this is technically three books but go with me. Slaves of the Volcano God, Bride of the Slime Monster, and Revenge of the Fluffy Bunnies are some of those series that used to be thick on the ground but now are harder to find.

They’re adventure novels that play with the tropes of B-movies, and not only are they hilarious, but they made a young Justin like B-movies more. Playing with tropes can get exhausting, but when it’s done with genuine love, as it is here, it makes for an airy joy of a series.

When it comes to fantasy books, it’s hard to narrow things down to only one book in Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series.

He was a master of satire and the use of asides to parody the tropes of fantasy while also telling compelling stories and building a world you could imagine visiting. If we’re going to annoy the people trying to ban LGBTQ+ books, though, I’d have to recommend starting with The Fifth Elephant.

As the kingdom of dwarves is in disarray over the disappearance of the Scone necessary to crown their king, a group of Night Watch detectives from a distant land must work together to solve the crime while dodging evil werewolves.

One of the detectives on the case is Cheery, a dwarf who causes waves for openly identifying as female (the dwarves follow logic similar to J.R.R. Tolkien’s dwarves in that every dwarf has a beard and gender… show more.

This is the second book in the Guards sequence, but it’s easy enough to start here. This detective story set in the sprawling, smelly metropolis of Ankh-Morpork, featuring dwarves, werewolves, and (occasionally) humans, is a laugh-out-loud and anarchic book, managing to be hugely joyous and page-turningly compelling at the same time. Insanely silly and utterly real, with characters so solid you can see (or in some cases, smell) them long after you turn the last page.