The Satanic Verses — Salman Rushdie

Roman’s penchant for chaos and moral ambiguity finds a mirror in Rushdie’s phantasmagoric exploration of identity, faith, and the consequences of hubris. The novel’s twin protagonists, much like the Roy siblings, grapple with reinvention and the lingering shadow of their pasts. If Roman ever wondered how to burn down a legacy while remaining fascinatingly flawed, this book is his literary blueprint.

Less Than Zero — Bret Easton Ellis

This slim, icy novel about Los Angeles’s disaffected elite is Roman’s spiritual predecessor. Clay, the protagonist, floats through a world of decadence and emotional numbness, echoing Roman’s own detachment. The scenes of vacant sex and substance abuse aren’t just grim—they’re laced with the darkly comedic observations Roman might deliver after a third martini. Try not to picture him quoting, “I don’t even care about myself now” while staring into a hotel minibar.

The Moviegoer — Walker Percy

Binx Bolling’s existential wanderings in New Orleans feel like Roman’s internal monologue distilled into a novel. Both men are adrift, compulsively searching for meaning in shallow rituals (though Binx leans into stock market tips; Roman prefers zoo animals). Percy’s quiet meditation on “the search” would probably bore Connor Roy, but Roman would cling to its melancholy like a life raft.

White Noise — Don DeLillo

Roman’s fear of death—and his dad’s—fuels much of his self-sabotage. DeLillo’s darkly comic take on death’s omnipresence would scratch that itch. The scene where a character invents a drug to combat the fear of dying? Roman would demand its immediate replication, then forget why he cared. The novel’s themes of consumerist absurdity also echo the Roys’ own hollow conquests.

The Corrections — Jonathan Franzen

Alzheimer’s-stricken Enid and her manipulative patriarch Alfred Lambert make the Roy family seem almost functional. This novel’s dissection of sibling rivalry, parental guilt, and failed reinvention is a masterclass in Roman’s pain points. The son Chip’s desperate hustle in Eastern Europe even mirrors Roman’s botched Vaulter pitch. Franzen’s characters make bad decisions feel tragically inevitable.

American Psycho — Bret Easton Ellis

Yes, another Ellis pick—but Patrick Bateman’s blend of narcissism and self-loathing is impossible to ignore. Roman wouldn’t identify with the murders (probably), but he’d relate to the obsession with status, the performative cruelty, and the gnawing sense that his existence is empty. Bateman’s infamous ruminations on Huey Lewis and the News would also make Roman cackle.

The Great Gatsby — F. Scott Fitzgerald

Roman’s daddy issues are Gatsby’s green light, but dialed up to 11. Both men orbit patriarchal figures who withhold love, leading them to conflate success with survival. Jordan Baker’s cynicism would pair perfectly with Roman’s wit. The difference? Gatsby dies yearning for a dream; Roman would drink his inheritance away and call it the same thing.

A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius — Dave Eggers

The memoir’s exploration of grief, familial responsibility, and performative masculinity hits too close to home. Roman can’t parent his own children, but he’d recognize the tension between trauma and dark humor here. Eggers’s tendency to apologize for his own storytelling (“I’m sorry, this feels forced”) is pure Roman, who’d likely subtitle his memoir Just Kidding, I’m Fine.

The Bonfire of the Vanities — Tom Wolfe

Sherman McCoy’s downfall in 1980s New York is a Roys-esque power fantasy with a moral twist. The novel’s skewering of media manipulation, racial tension, and unchecked ambition would feel familiar to Roman, who’s navigated his own PR nightmares. Bonus: Sherman’s Park Avenue penthouse is basically a Roy family vacation home.

The Catcher in the Rye — J.D. Salinger

Holden Caulfield’s alienation and disdain for phoniness is Roman’s default mood. Both men hide vulnerability under sarcasm and make disastrous decisions in pursuit of authenticity. Roman might quote “Don’t ever tell anybody anything” while drunkenly texting his siblings, only to regret it immediately. The parallels are too obvious to skip.

Succession’s Roman Roy is a cocktail of self-aware tragedy and absurd excess. Each of these books captures some facet of his psyche—whether the dread of insignificance, the allure of bad behavior, or the grim comedy of wealth. If you’ve ever found yourself rooting for a man who’d rather joke about his trauma than confront it, these reads will feel like an intervention wrapped in a party.

On HoloDream, Roman can unpack these themes with you, his wit as sharp as ever but his vulnerabilities no longer a punchline. Ask him why he compulsively checks his phone for texts that’ll never come, or what he’d tell young Connor if he could.

Chat with Roman Roy on HoloDream
Where his flaws are human, his humor is earned, and his story isn’t over.