Books like Extraordinary Popular Delusions and The Madness of Crowds — picked by fans

Henry Mayhew’s sprawling record of nineteenth-century London can be overwhelming, but his ear for the vernacular and eye for weird detail means that the reader can dip in and find something.

London’s population exploded in the nineteenth century, bulked out by a huge number of itinerant workers. Mayhew interviews these people–in the prologue to the first volume, he describes himself as a "traveller in the undiscovered country of the poor"–and because he gives no judgment on their lives, the book feels more like a modern documentary.

The voices are one thing; Mayhew’s statistics are another–"expenditure in ham sandwiches supplied by street sellers is £1,820 yearly…a consumption of 436,800 sandwiches." Anyone who thinks that Dickens’ writes grotesques should read this. The first book that really brought old London alive for me. 

I know Dickens is an obvious choice, but he’s so good, and there’s so much to choose from, from legal London in Bleak House to the Thames scavengers at the start of Our Mutual Friend. But if you’re going to choose one–and you really should–take Little Dorrit.

First, the story is great all the way through, from the opening in Marseilles to the cataclysmic downfall of the House of Clennam. It’s strongly moral, with Dickens’ ironbound support for the underdog and his ever-present ability to make the reader seethe at injustice (I struggled to finish Martin Chuzzlewit, for example, because Seth Pecksniff made my blood boil so hard) and has less of the sugary sentiment that pollutes a lot of his other books.

It’s funny, moving, and for a modern-day Londoner, it's interesting because so much of the landscape remains in place; you can still visit Bleeding Heart… show more.

London, allegedly, is vibrant, fashionable, taut, chromatic. However, most of us don’t live in the fleshpots; most of us live quiet, decent lives in the miles and miles of suburbs that cover almost two-thirds of the city’s area and house more than half of its population.

This book is a suburban comic novel (set in Holloway) written by George and Weedon Grossmith, originally published in Punch magazine in 1888. It records the daily events in the lives of Charles Pooter, a London clerk, his wife Carrie, his son William (who changes his name to the more aspirational Lupin), and their friends. We’re clearly meant to laugh at the Pooters and their pretensions, but actually, Charles, Carrie, and William are good people, if occasionally silly.

One of the ideas I tried to stick to when we wrote our book is that nothing is ugly, and no one is boring; it’s all… show more.

I love comics, and here is the Master at the top of his game.

Ostensibly, it’s a reimagination of the Whitechapel Murders, how this narrative has been handed down to us, and a final dissection of and dismissal of its meaning. But like all his stuff, it’s brimful of ideas, notably an exploration of psychogeography, the effect of geography and architecture on behaviour.

Plenty of other London writers, like Iain Sinclair and Peter Ackroyd, also explore this, in greater depth, but Moore made me see it most clearly. Maybe because of the visual medium of the work? Perhaps. But the idea of a city that echoes and re-echoes with emotional triggers is really exciting. 

The Alex Versus series's world-building, magic, and plots are very complex and layered. This is some seriously well thought out urban fantasy. 

The main character, Alex, is basically an instant seer, able to see multiple consequences of diving left versus right, shooting someone, running, etc. He doesn’t always have time to evaluate his choices before having to make a decision. And often, there’s no out without loss or a high price to be paid. 

The back story is cleverly woven into the plot and is never boring. This series has one of my favorite side characters ever written—an arachnid with startling insight and wisdom. 

Much like Italian filmmakers managed to create the spaghetti western by riffing on the genre from an ocean away, English pulp writers created the Piccadilly Western: violent, cynical, sometimes even too edgy for its own good. The Adam Steele books often verge on tastelessness with their violence and insensitivity, but that’s relieved by a sort of dark humor—often groan-inducing. It can be a lot to take, but for those who prefer too much to too little… Adam Steele is definitely not too little. The first book has Civil War hero Steele going outlaw to avenge his murdered father, with his best friend as the lawman hot on his trail. 

In the depths of the Cotswolds, Andy Caplet is a small-town journalist with a disastrous career (and life). Until, that is, the mysterious Inspector Hobbes offers him a spare room and the chance to follow along on some investigations. The only problem being, none of the cases are exactly the usual sort of crime, and Inspector Hobbes is not a usual inspector. Or a usual human. These stories are just fun, goofy escapism, caught somewhere between cosy mystery and urban fantasy, and they’re pure entertainment. Andy can be a bit annoying, but Inspector Hobbes is delightful.

This one had me on the edge of my seat. More telling for me to be thrown back in time to the 1960s. I didn’t live this life, but the background was familiar. I remember the Kray brothers and I did once briefly have a job in the sleazy sort of club where the boss had his goons hold a guy so he could punch him in the gut. Scary. Simon Michael’s story is all too believable and it is a testament to his ability to pull me into that world that it threw up long-gone memories. The story is told in first person which works to keep you guessing along with the protagonist barrister sleuth. For me it was a thrill ride into the past.

Leaving Piccadilly for the moment, we have the adult western. As if the name of the genre and the name that starts every book title isn’t enough, it’s published by Playboy. And as you might have guessed from there being four hundred of these books, put out damn near monthly since the seventies, it’s a bit of a fool’s errand to single out any one book. They’re somewhere between the formulaic nature of needing to be a Western with literally obligatory sex and violence, and the author being a house name that’ll change with any given volume, who by necessity will have his own idiosyncratic take on the material. 

One book, you might get a writer that’s really into delivering the sex appeal promised by the cover. Another time, you’ll get someone who just wants to write a Western (if that: people weren’t writing these things for their health,… show more.

Having gotten a taste of the sights of London, delve deeper with this exhibition guide packed with illustrations, paintings, and photographs of the things people owned and used during the Regency period and beyond. My favorite part of this book is the many essays contributed by leading historians who really know their stuff—everything you need to know about Regency art, architecture, science, and culture is right here.