Books like In a Glass Darkly — picked by fans

I find that Frankenstein transcends eras by posing critical questions about the ways we develop and use new technology.

I first read a comic-book version in elementary school and have returned to Shelly’s novel over the years because it stimulates my critical thinking about technology, particularly the current rise of AI and our response to it. Frankenstein raises a fundamental ethical question about technology in real life: just because humans can create something, should they actually create it?

For me, the novel also creates the opportunity to explore questions about how we engage technology once we choose to invent it. Dr. Frankenstein abandons his creation, and the creature becomes an angry monster. I ask myself, is this an allegory for our own response to technology?

I have always loved the central premise of the book, that a human being might never age, and yet a portrait of him ages as the years go by.

I love the way that Wilde used elegant and lyrical prose, always boosted by a flamboyant irony, in describing the dissolute life of an aesthete while putting it in the context of a philosophical pursuit of beauty and art. Dorian Gray himself is a deeply flawed moral character, and that is key to the success of the novel.  

This book by Ann Radcliffe was published in 1794, and I read it in the spring of 2020 (yeah, we all remember). It was a welcome respite from my book club books as I sat on my lawn chair accompanying the main character, Emily Saint-Aubert, as she journeyed through the Languedoc. It was a long and arduous journey with long and arduous descriptions, and while I am averse to these, the narrative and language fascinated me. The story pulled me into a moonlit graveyard abutting an ancient convent, then into the languid beauty of 16th-century Venice, the gloomy castle Udolpho, and Signor Montoni's villainous schemes.

This book is the epitome of classic Gothic fiction, a genre of literature that started with Horace Walpole's The Castle of Otranto. But Udolpho sets the bar even higher with its narrative's light and darkness and winding twists. 

I love the story, the setting,… show more.

I loved this book because it is an exploration of sexual temptation and religious faith.

One of the reasons I love gothic literature is that it is not horror in that it is not written solely to frighten. Instead, it is a vehicle to explore human psychology–the human condition–and so in addition to exploring things like fear of the unknown, it can delve into other areas like faith and temptation. That is exactly what this novel does and why I love it so much.

I felt a powerful sense of tragic history and increasing pity and fear as this story progressed with its brooding, fateful, gothic atmosphere and hints of the supernatural in a gloomy, coastal house in Ireland. I became swept up by the gathering intensity and intrigue and the multiple shocks that arise from the main protagonist’s discoveries. I was absorbed in this compelling, thought-provoking story and captivated by its ingenious plot. 

I love the delightful yet diverse ensemble of characters that form the story of Evening Class and how their individual stories weave together so beautifully. It taught me that it’s never too late to take a risk or try something new and that everybody has a story, no matter how they present themselves to the world. There is something so comforting in Maeve Binchy’s delightful prose and many moments of laugh-aloud humour.

The story of a curious young woman on a quest for knowledge and insights into the deeper mysteries of the world.

With the guidance of a wise shaman and a witch who have both walked the path of truth before her in different ways, she learns magic and how to overcome fear. It is a book that takes the reader on a journey alongside Brida and leaves space for one’s own moments of self-discovery, learning, and growth.

This is one of several excellent books that explores how nonhuman animals shaped cities (see also Andrew Robichaud’s Animal City, Frederick L. Brown’s The City is More Than Human, Dawn Day Biehler’s Pests in the City, and Hannah Velten’s Beastly London, for example). Cities are multispecies spaces and they have always been so, even as the history of a given city shifts and changes. When we walk through a city like Dublin today we may not immediately think about the many, many nonhuman animals who used to roam the same streets and pathways we walk on today. And yet, as Juliana Adelman explores in this book, there are hints and traces of this animal history if we know where to look.

In Dublin Hanged, Henry paints an evocative picture of the turn-of-the-eighteenth-century Irish capital collapsing under rising property crime, food shortages due to series of particularly inclement winters, and political unrest. He also vividly captures the events that led to the organisation of the first metropolitan uniformed police in the British Isles, which came to be widely unpopular. Henry shows, the organisation of the force was costly and in order to fund the new police, the household tax ‘skyrocketed’ virtually overnight. Henry’s analysis reveals there was a marked decline in the frequency of rape and violent assaults in the years following the introduction of the police in October 1786, indicating a degree of effectiveness of the new police despite the lack of its popularity.

Inspector Mallon covers the latter decades of the nineteenth century in Dublin history, which were characterised by unrest, extremist violence, and police strikes. The late 1800s were also the service years of the celebrated Dublin Police detective John Mallon, ‘the Great Irish Detective’. The book explores the behind-the-scenes relationships between official Dublin and the force, and between the police and the political activists. McCracken examines the impact the Dublin detectives, known as G-men due to their work in the G Division, had on undermining the political threats and bringing known Fenians and members of the Invincibles, responsible for the horrific Phoenix Park murders, to trial.