Books like Constance — picked by fans

This one is different from the others because everyone loves a story, don’t they? Through Keiko, Sayaka Murata explores what it means to find stability within a clearly defined role while showing how quickly systems and social expectations question anything outside the norm. 

There is a terrific, palpable tension: a system that rewards conformity set against an individual making deliberate choices about how to live within or alongside it. I applaud Murata’s deft hand to expose how social pressure can determine identity, labour, and belonging, making Keiko’s small acts feel both radical and painfully ordinary. The novel asks a simple, urgent question: who decides what a meaningful working life looks like?

This book wrecked me; it’s such a deep dive into the lives of the woman brutally murdered by Jack the Ripper. Rubenhold reconstructs their lives with great empathy, bringing them to the forefront of the story. The five were real women who felt love, pain, and hope—not faceless victims of sensationalized murder.

These women are often portrayed as “five prostitutes” in pop culture, but Rubenhold shows that there is no evidence of sex work for most of the women. This book pulls back the curtain on the tension, violence, poverty, and heartbreak in Victorian London. This book brought me to absolute tears. 

All of the Peter Wimsey novels are delightful, but I greatly enjoy the ones that feature Peter’s love interest, Harriet Vane.

In this one, Harriet, recently exonerated of a murder charge, returns to her Alma Mater, Oxford, for a traditional Gaudy dinner. Naturally, the event leads to murder, and Peter must be consulted to help resolve the case.

This is probably the most powerful example of literary pastiche novels I’ve read, not just because it takes on one of the most beloved novels in English literature—Jane Eyre—but because it brutally turns that novel’s premises on their gentrified heads.

I am truly awed by how vibrantly Rhys inhabits Antoinette, Rochester’s doomed wife, weaving in themes of colonialism and gendered power into Charlotte Brontë’s Gothic romance and, in the process, making it a kind of subversive and gritty feminist and anti-colonial manifesto.

Rhys’s depiction of Antoinette’s descent into madness is so visceral and believable that you are (or at least I am) all but cheering as she literally burns the patriarchy to the ground. I also love that while it’s generally considered Rhys’s masterpiece, she wrote it in her seventies. 

If Jane Austen was writing in the twentieth century, she’d be Barbara Pym!

There is so much sly, gentle humour in this story of a respectable thirty-something vicar’s daughter living in London in the fifties. Her life revolves around her church and work, and when a glamorous married couple moves into the flat upstairs, everything changes.

I’ve read this book so many times, and it has never failed to delight me. Great characterisation, a narrative that moves along at a cracking pace, and several potential suitors for the protagonist’s hand. Also, the book contains some of my favourite jokes around bird poo, fawn underwear, and badly made tea. Even though I’ve read and reread it, I always hate to get to the last chapter and finish it again.

A stand-alone installment of the Miss Marple series, I chose The Moving Finger for this list because it involves letters and neighborhood gossip.

Set in the seemingly placid village of Lymstock, the story unfolds when a series of vicious poison-pen letters shatter the village’s quiet charm. The situation escalates when one recipient commits suicide, a death that requires justice.

Miss Marple enters the plot as the vicar’s houseguest and ultimately outsmarts the mystery. Her strength comes from the way others dismiss her as a harmless little old lady. To most she is unimportant and insubstantial, if they notice her at all. These assumptions free her to do detective work unnoticed.

If you like Miss Marple, there are 12 full-length books and 20 short stories that feature her shrewd adventures—enjoy!

The second of The House at Baker Street series, this book solves the mystery of why a disproportionate number of patients are dying in a private ward at St. Barts hospital in London.

Atmospheric and engaging, Birkby’s writing develops Mrs. Hudson and Mary Watson in practical, unsentimental ways while not ignoring their emotions, or how those feelings motivate them. These are two adults with unique histories and strengths, and they develop a bond equivalent to an aunt and niece after Mary becomes Mrs. Watson, and joins the cast of characters that frequent Mrs. Hudson’s 221B home.

These women are not vehicles for a Holmes and Watson storyline—the men are almost completely absent. These ladies are two fully realized characters with their own cases to solve and innocents to save.

A real-life figure played in the Gentleman Jack TV series by Suranne Jones, this biography investigates Anne Lister’s personal diaries to reveal a portrait of someone remarkable: a businesswoman landowner in the early 1800s, a world traveler, and a lover of women long before the word “lesbian” would have accurately described her.

Lister’s boldness seems ahead of her time, but perhaps only because women were so rarely free to express themselves. Lister’s numerous liaisons with women, her plans to make and grow her fortune, plus her documentation of her digestive health, all make her relatable over 200 years later.

This is an important piece of LGBT and gender studies history, a bright chronicle in the archives of feminist study, and an interesting read about an extraordinary person.

The Tarot is littered with symbols and occult references. You do not have to go deep into esoteric corresponds if you do not want to, but if you do I recommend Tarot Deciphered. This book gets down and dirty into all the symbology of the Rider-Waite Smith Tarot, the Thoth Tarot, and other decks which share its symbols. This book is probably not for beginners unless of course, you want to dive deep into Tarot and occult symbology fast. 

Basically a biography of Anna Kingsford for those who don't like Edward Maitland's. The latter was accused (justly or unjustly) of destroying evidence about Anna—especially about her early life and over-dramatising the occult incidents in her life. This newer biography corrects some of these drawbacks of the earlier version and is more in tune with modern sensibilities.