The Best Books We’ve Read for a Harvard Course

With the average Harvard undergraduate taking 32 courses over their four years of college, we’ve read through our fair share of both exhilarating titles and more sluggish syllabi works. Here we share some of our favorite books that we’ve read for a Harvard course, and we hope you’ll consider checking these works out as well!

“Helena” by Machado de Assis
History 15S: Fiction as Archive

As Harvard History Professor Sidney Chalhoub put it, Machado is Brazil’s Shakespeare — such is the importance of his witty but profound works to a country whose literary talent is not talked about much here in the States. His novel “Helena,” however, is good enough to convince anyone that Brazil’s literary corpus deserves more attention. The language of this novel is beautiful without being inaccessible, such that someone still learning Portuguese could thoroughly enjoy Machado’s picturesque descriptions and subtle turns of phrase without leaning too much on a translation; but for those who need an English version, Helen Caldwell’s translation is a wonderful alternative. Well-paced and, thankfully, not too lengthy, “Helena” is the best sort of nineteenth-century novel, fit with a twist that is almost impossible to anticipate, and which betrays an undercurrent of social critique that even a modern audience could get behind. Indeed, upon finishing “Helena,” almost any reader will admit that it deserves a second look.

—Staff writer Daniel S. de Castro can be reached at daniel.decastro@thecrimson.com.

“Group: How One Therapist and a Circle of Strangers Saved My Life” by Christie Tate
General Education 1179: Psychotherapy and the Modern Self

“One of the most well-written books I’ve ever read! There is so much heart and honesty in this book that never feels like too much — Christie Tate really has a gift. 5 stars.”

The Goodreads review I gave “Group” by Christie Tate was an unexpected one for me. This unassuming book, one of many on the syllabus for Gen Ed 1179: Psychotherapy and the Modern Self is a vulnerable and funny memoir detailing the author’s experience with group therapy. Amidst the author’s chaotic anecdotes of strange, non-medical prescriptions encouraged by her therapist, Dr. Rosen — such as having to call fellow group therapy members each night — were warm reminders of the uniqueness of human existence and the fact that human connection has the power to be an insurmountable healing force. Much more than a trivial reading assignment, Tate’s memoir is a light-hearted but heavy-hitting reminder that taking care of your mental health is a form of self-advocacy. Just as the months over which Tate participated in group therapy significantly sculpted her life, the 24 hours over which I started and finished “Group” changed mine.

—Staff writer Selorna A. Ackuayi can be reached at selorna.ackuayi@thecrimson.com.

“Micrographia” by Robert Hooke
Humanities 20: A Humanities Colloquium

Driven by an unwavering urge to grasp the mystery of the unseen, I once had hopes to become a theoretical astrophysicist. But it was ultimately a book from my first art history course at Harvard that gave me the deepest perspective on human inquiry and scientific discovery, convincing me that I didn’t have to forsake my love of science to study art. The work was Robert Hooke’s “Micrographia,” a landmark 1665 record of microscopic observations in detailed woodblock illustrations modeled after his own original drawings. Hooke, a natural philosopher with training in engraving, pulled the previously invisible into the realm of the visible, relying on his artistic skill to probe the unseen with a frank human curiosity I saw myself reflected in. From Hooke’s microscopic expedition to ventures farther into the unfathomable expanse of the universe, I’ve since been enraptured by art’s necessary role in bringing scientific discoveries to the human scale.

—Staff writer Marin E. Gray can be reached at marin.gray@thecrimson.com.

“The Buried Giant” by Kazuo Ishiguro
English 20: Literary Forms

Kazuo Ishiguro’s “The Buried Giant” is an incredibly effective argument for the literary and emotional potential of the fantasy genre. The novel draws on the familiar fantasy tropes — the masculine hero following a quest, knights on strapping horses, and even a dragon at the end of the journey — but saps the life out of them, leaving readers with a desiccated husk of the once grand fantasy epic. The readers follow the journey of Axl and Beatrice, an elderly married couple who have lost all of their memories, save for the urge to go find their son in a neighboring village. Along the way, they recover fragments of their past as they meet failing heroes. Though deeply melancholy, the true achievement of this novel is its ability to celebrate the vitality and power of love even as the world around the lovers crumbles. By focusing on an elderly couple, Ishiguro also explores love in its most honest state — no infatuation, rivalry, or gratuitous declarations of passion. Their affection, rather, is cradled in the warmth of the memories they share together and all of the little acts of care that are only possible from a lifetime relationship.

—John M. Weaver

“Luster” by Raven Leilani
Humanities 90: Making It

I read “Luster” for fun before I read it for class, and wow, Harvard professors really know what they are talking about! The deep analysis we did in class completely changed my perspective and deepened my understanding of this richly layered novel. As a humanities student, choosing a favorite book I’ve read for class is challenging, but “Luster” is definitely one of the best. This book follows Edie, a young Black woman trying to make it in New York and her affair with the white, married, middle-aged and suburban Eric. Edie is sharp, witty, vulgar, and unhappy, making her such a refreshing narrative voice. Not only is this book exquisite, surrealist, and darkly funny, but it says so much about femininity, intersectionality, and how art interacts with life. We literally talked about this book for four hours in my seminar and there is still so much to say!

—Staff writer Serena Jampel can be reached at serena.jampel@thecrimson.com.