34 Books Like Eyes in the Dust

Deep space can be scary, but I consider deep caves to be much more terrifying.

The Luminous Dead has an eerie mission to the depths of a cave on a distant exoplanet—the worst of both worlds! This book follows a non-regulation diver on a dangerous job shrouded in secrets and the enigmatic, untrustworthy voice in her helmet guiding her through the darkness.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take long for the characters to descend into antagonism and uncertainty about whether the other things lurking in the cave are figments of paranoia or dangerously real. If you like feeling queasy, secondhand claustrophobia, The Luminous Dead is for you.

As someone who has explored the tombs of Egypt in real life, this story dug its claws right into me.

As well as all the claustrophobia, the darkness, and the sense there’s no way out, Moreland confronts you with ancient gods and monsters so terrifying you’ll be testing the walls for a secret passage out of there every step of the way.

In this novella, Curran taps into that sense of what’s below our feet as another world.

A world from a past so distant from ours that we’ve forgotten what lurks there. The reader follows Boyd down into the depths and understands his reasons for taking the job in the bowels of the mine, even as things take turn after turn for the worse.

Curran knows exactly when to paint the horror vividly and when to hold back, or lean into the unsettling and the uncanny.

This book leans heavily into old English folklore, has terrifying creatures and believable characters.

Above and beyond all that, though, is the atmosphere the author creates in the rabbit warren of the Chislehurst Caves. It’s no secret that Budd is a veteran visitor to this terrifying complex of tunnels and caverns, and it really shows in this book. Even the “quiet” moments in Enter the Darkness had me shuddering.

I love this book because it is deeply scientific with a good plot. I always appreciate books that attempt to make things as scientifically accurate as possible. I understand that science fiction books must take some liberties for the sake of the plot—in fact, I believe that they should. But the liberties should be believable.

Also, who doesn’t love a great book about an explanation for the origins of humanity? With what scientists can do with genetics now, it’s really fun to think about what studying the human genome can teach us. 

Here, a seasoned geologist gathers several themes of his research interests, poses critical questions on apparent anomalies within them, and considers their resolution. He does this by giving free rein to informed lateral thinking on these topics. This produces an unusual book in the annals of geological writing, presenting thought-provoking and rewarding reading.

The thematic chapters are written in a fluent expression of the concepts involved, reinforced through a range of illustrative means. There are superb photographs of gems, minerals, and rocks as specimens and rocky exposures from many sources. Geological diagrams underpin explanations, superimposed maps highlight large-scale geological structures, and even images of paintings, historical scenes, postcards, and stamps reinforce particular points. The closing sections enter the realms of life on Earth, seen as coordinated biological and geological evolution. 

My final choice is slightly different from the others on my list, in that it is not an anthology or an exposition of different viewpoints.

It is a short book (just 60 pages) that simply argues that there is no meaning of life but that that does not matter in the least.

In this respect, the book is a good antidote to Schopenhauer’s view – discussed or excerpted in all of the above – that there is no meaning of life and that that matters a great deal.

Whether you agree with Tartaglia and Llanera or not, you are likely to find their views a useful foil against which to formulate your own.

Released in the early ‘90s, Frisk was adapted into a film in the mid-90s by Todd Verow. Both received mixed reviews due its transgressive content about madness and bizarre sexual aesthetic. Frisk leaves little to the imagination as the narrator explores taboo photography and sexual deviance while traveling through Holland. Critics and fans found this breakthrough novel deeply polarizing because it involves a gay character obsessed with annihilation. Nevertheless, the overall theme is about victimization, and a culture obsessed with objectification. Despite the novel’s punk prose and hypnotic pacing, there’s something to be said when humanity has a tendency to destroy what society deems perfect. Cooper definitely explores how human desire can become just as fanatical as a religious zealot. A must read for fans of cinematic gore.

Simenon is a master storyteller and father of the noir genre. He quit school as a teenager and never attended a writing program. Dirty Snow is filled with psychological insight and hard facts about life. The main character, Frank Friedmaier, is a brawny young man who lives in his mother’s brothel in France under German occupation. A horrible crime, along with heinous acts, are committed because he cares about nothing and does things without reason. His life is deprived of a father and that void quickly becomes occupied by whores that facilitate a man without optimism. Simenon vividly takes us on a trip into the mind of a creature that can be uncomfortable for a lot of people. This is yet another dark classic about an anti-hero challenged by the notion that he is a man like any other.

Nietzsche was the master diagnostician of the challenge of living in a secular world, once God was dead. The Birth of Tragedy develops a powerful theory of culture, its necessity for human wellbeing, and how it works.

The basic assumption is that human life is lived on the surface, driven by a substratum of demonic instincts, nightmare fears, and a barbaric will to lust and sadism. Culture’s task is to transform these unconscious drives into harmonious and beautiful images that capture the mind and give an orderly direction to how humans conduct their lives.

But for culture to have that commanding power it needs to be founded on a fixed and primordial sacred site. Without that, the modern problems rise: nihilism, rancour, and depression.