Of course what we read shapes how we see the world.
But for me, feminism grew from the books stacked beside my bed: stories that showed girls and women making their own way, even when history forgot their names.
Books like The Royal Diaries series (fictionalized diaries of real royal figures) and The American Girl novels (hello, fellow Samantha Parkington girlies) filled my childhood bookshelves. They never overtly called themselves "feminist literature," but the heroines were almost always independently minded girls who took matters into their own hands. They were aspirational, seemingly unstoppable and unconquerable.
Fast forward to adulthood, and there are five feminist books that profoundly shaped how I viewed the world, and how I’ve moved through it. While I’ve always been a reader, I don’t think I became consciously feminist until I understood how much society had its thumb on the scale against women, through personal experience.
Here are five of the most foundational reads (in no particular order):
1. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
“Learning that self-respect means saying no—even to love (kinda)."
The first time I read Jane Eyre, I was too young to grasp the feminist implications behind lines like, “I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an independent will,” or “I can live alone, if self-respect, and circumstances require me so to do."
But I’ve read it at least a half dozen times since. While I can’t deny that this is a problematic classic (colonialism, Bertha, Mr. Rochester, oh my), Jane was a heroine who defied Victorian expectations. She understood her worth as an individual—not just a woman of marriageable age—and resisted men’s attempts to control her. Strong, independent, and principled, Jane overcame adversity without compromising her values.
Of course, the feminist that I am today no longer romanticizes the central romance (cough Rochester cough). But Jane Eyre showed me early on that women’s self-respect mattered, even when society told them otherwise.
2. Tigress of Forli by Elizabeth Lev
"Discovering a forgotten Renaissance badass."
Reading this biography of Caterina Sforza de Medici shook me to my core. She famously said:
"If I could write everything that happened, I would shock the world."
What shocked me was how someone so fearless—someone who once rode on horseback, pregnant and in full armor, to seize the Castel Sant’Angelo and hold the Vatican hostage—could be erased from most history books.
Caterina was tough, clever, relentless, ruling Forli after her husband’s murder and resisting her enemies, like Pope Alexander VI and his infamous family—the Borgias. She made me realize just how skewed history often is, and how many powerful women were systematically forgotten because they didn’t fit the narrative of "great men" history.
Reading her story lit a fire in me: who else has been forgotten? Whose stories still need telling?
3. Circe by Madeline Miller
"Giving a forgotten mythological woman her own voice."
Yes, it’s a popular answer and for good reason.
Miller’s retelling of Circe took a character who had been a minor, almost villainous figure in The Odyssey and gave her a rich inner life, resilience, and agency. Circe was no longer just a witch on an island turning men into pigs. She was a woman navigating a patriarchal world that feared and punished female power.
(And it feels like after Miller’s mainstream success, opened the floodgates for similar feminist retellings à la Jennifer Saint and Natalie Haynes.)
Circe left me, quite honestly, a puddle of feelings by the end (shoutout to the breathtaking audiobook narration).
4. Know My Name by Chanel Miller
"Reclaiming identity after injustice."
This powerful 2019 memoir was a gut-punch. Chanel Miller, formerly known only as "Emily Doe" in the People v. Brock Turner case, reclaimed her identity, her voice, and her narrative in the aftermath of sexual assault.
It was “ripped from the headlines” at a time when I was old enough—and mature enough—to consume the news and understand the implications on my own life. Miller’s writing made it painfully easy to put myself in her shoes, and made it impossible not to see the cruelty and injustice that survivors often face. The way she dismantled societal victim-blaming (what were you wearing? what were you drinking? how many partners have you had?) left a permanent mark on me.
It’s one of the bravest, most necessary books I've ever read, and a powerful testament to why women's stories matter.
5. The Woman’s Hour by Elaine Weiss
"Remembering that progress is messy—and always unfinished."
Weiss’s book about the final push to ratify the 19th Amendment opened my eyes. The book centers around women—activists, organizers, and opponents alike—as powerful political agents shaping the future of American democracy.
I learned that not only were men resistant to women’s suffrage but many women were, too. The movement fractured along lines of race, class, and strategy, revealing that even within progressive causes, power and privilege were complicated.
It was a powerful reminder to me that progress is sloppy, intersectional, and always unfinished, and that women's political power was (and continues to be) hard-won.
These are just five of the books that helped shape my feminist worldview, but the list could go on (and on).
I'd love to know: what books shaped the way you see the world? Drop a comment and let's swap recommendations.
Wishing you the company of a good book,
Brittany
One book for sure that recently resonated with me was 'I'm Glad My Mom Died' by Janette McCurdy. It's so hauntingly well written from the perspective of a young Hollywood star chewed up by the TV industry and toxic mother.
Your insightfulness opens my knowledge to so much!