21 books like The Divine Cities

I instantly dug the vibe of this book. Pacific Ocean, pirates, kidnappings, mythical South Asian relics, historical fantasy. Give me it!

This book blew me away like a sea squall, so much so that a year after I finished reading it, I still use nautical metaphors to make my point. Not to mention how much I love older, middle-aged protagonists. Weary mothers and retired cartographers with families to feed and perilous old habits, setting sail on an adventure? Aye, aye, Captain!

Larque is an unusual and sympathetic protagonist. She’s a wife, mother, and moderately successful businesswoman, but thinks of herself as a failed artist.

She also has the ability to create doppelgangers, temporary doubles of the people in her life. But this time, they’re a lot less temporary. Sky is her ten-year-old self, rebellious and contemptuous of the choices her adult self has made, and Lark is a young gay man dealing with life in the early 1990s.

And Larque is both of them, as well as herself and the menacing Virtuous Woman who lurks in the background, waiting for her chance to take over Larque’s life. It makes for a wild midlife crisis in which Larque has to decide who she wants to be and what she wants for her creations.

In a genre full of stories of almost infinite variety, this is one that caught my eye.

A middle-aged female professor of mathematics goes on a quest with her cat to track down a former student who is the only one who can save their world from destruction. Sounds cozy, doesn’t it? Except for the world-ending part.

And the fact that Vellitt’s path lies straight through a dreamscape out of the Lovecraftian mythos in this critique/homage to H.P. Lovecraft’s The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath. But you don’t have to have read the latter to enjoy the journey.

Vellitt is a marvelous character, the world-building is brilliant and the cat is the perfect addition that helps set the tone for a new and different kind of quest fantasy.

This is less a romance novel and more a high fantasy novel with romantic elements, but the romance subplot is exceedingly strong.

(I can highly recommend a mental fan-casting of either Arhys or Ilvin as Pedro Pascal, because he’d absolutely knock one of those roles out of the park if this was ever made into a miniseries).

Ista is over 40, a queen, a new grandmother, a recovered madwoman, and…wait for it…a living saint. Seeking to get away from the suffocating (yet loving) arms of her family, she goes on a pilgrimage (Road Trip!) with a group of younger people and ends up getting into multiple adventures and a more than near miss with outright war. It’s an absolute romp and one of my all-time favorites.

This castaway story, about a man trapped on a concrete island under and between converging freeways on the outskirts of London, still stands the test of time.

I found it especially resonant during the imposed isolation of the global pandemic; all of us each marooned in our living rooms. The protagonist, architect Robert Maitland, has to learn to survive and thrive in reduced and restricted circumstances, and he can’t buy or build his way out of it.

When he finally discovers a way off the island he no longer really wants to leave, reminding us that we are sometimes most effectively imprisoned by our own minds and desires.  

I am a big fan of the author’s nuanced and powerful writing style. The best-written book on my list. Collection of short stories that interweave personal details and idiosyncrasies with broader themes and omens. In “Scenic Route” (‘they have me up hard against the hood of the Cadillac Escalade, which is covered in the dust and dead insects of a thousand back roads’) and “Fairground” (‘school buses lined up like ducks at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn green, the faces of the secured population looking through the windows with indifference and resignation’), individuals dealing with internal tumult confront in matter-of-fact ways the stark presence of territories and people divided by check-point partitions. Sectoral partitions, segregated populations. Stark divisions in urban life normalized and routinized.

I love books with lots of twists and turns, I love realistic, near-future science fiction, and I love books with a beating, emotional heart at the center of even the wildest and action-packed storyline. 

This book is a twisty-turny, mind-bending look at time travel where the science actually makes sense but doesn’t take a back seat to the propulsive narrative. Blake Crouch is a master of the modern thriller with a tech-heavy edge, while keeping a truly beating heart at the center of each story.  

In my view, a great murder mystery should have a lot of possibilities, and science fiction just adds deeper layers of intrigue, and this is what The City and The City has in spades – literal layers and intrigue.

Here, two cities exist in the same place, yet the citizens of each one must ignore the citizens of the other. It is a crime to notice the citizens of the other city. When a murder occurs and our detective investigates, he only has jurisdiction in one city.

But what really blew my mind about this book was that, though it is science fiction, there is no physical or scientific reason that the cities are separate and occupy the same place. The division is only in the minds of the inhabitants!

David Charleston’s character resonated with me. He’s eccentric, passionate, and meticulous, while also being a great friend.

He’s also out for revenge against his father’s killer—A supervillain named Steelheart who has taken over Chicago. David unites with a secret group of people called the Reckoners who are trying to learn each villain's weakness to assassinate them.

David’s obsession with details is relatable, and against the terrifying powers of these supervillains, you're left on the edge of your seat hoping the Reckoner's schemes will be enough.

A Newman on the scene and, atrocious pun aside, Peter Newman redefines what it is for an author to have a fresh voice, especially since his lead character in The Vagrant speaks all of one word. And that’s one word per book if you go on to read the trilogy, which you will, because this novel is amazing. 

What more can you ask for when it comes to dark humour and light entertainment than a man traversing a poisoned world – filled with tainted humans, half-breed demons, and twisted infernals – and his companions on this journey are none other than a belligerent goat and a new-born baby. None of them speak, yet all three pull you into their hearts and them into yours.

An eye opens. A book is read. A reader becomes a Newman fan.