Well, not books exactly, but authors.
Gotta take Chuck Palahniuk down a peg or two. I just finished reading his infamous short story, "Guts." I refuse to link to it for you, in large part because I don't want even a billionth of an iota's blame for you reading it. You can find it on chuckpalahniuk.net if you insist, but consider yourself not just warned, but begged, not to do so.
A small (OK, big) part of me doubted that a cosmopolitan fellow like myself could be truly grossed out by anything. I'd heard all the hype. I'd heard about the readings he'd given in bookstores, where audience members threw up because of what he'd written. But I concluded that the average American reader is probably more conservative than I am... after all, I've got a pretty creative imagination (read: pervert). In other words, it couldn't be that bad.
It is. "Guts" is probably the most disgusting thing my brain ever been forced to process. I give Palahniuk full credit; "Guts" does have artistic value, both as a writing exercise and as a message about the things people will refuse to talk about publicly. Part of the exercise is to amuse himself, indulge his own abilities, and test the boundaries of good taste in mainstream literature. But the point of the story is that people will refuse to acknowledge or discuss certain unsavory, but dreadfully important, aspects of life. Sure, he illustrates that by discussing unsavory things that are not dreadfully important, but the point stands: it's easier to not think about what disturbs you, what you fear, what you are too weak to deal with, than it is to look straight at it and acknowledge it as the truth.
So don't read it.