100 Books Like Perdido Street Station

Three worlds in one book! There’s the not-so-important world of the Ancelstierre, roughly Edwardian or early-20th-Century-ish, and there’s the Old Kingdom, basically medieval, where Charter Magic wars with Free Magic (and how well Nix thinks through the workings of his forms of magic).

But the third world is the one that takes the cake! An underworld of the dead, with its different levels, gates, and sills. Sabriel discovers her own special inheritance and powers—OK, that’s standard fantasy fare, except that Sabriel’s powers are those of an abhorsen. It’s the Abhorsen’s role to make sure that the dead stay dead, and journey on down into the deeper levels of death. Of course, the dead who keep coming back are the ones who drive the narrative!

The book offers an in-depth exploration of how an anarchist, anti-capitalist society without money or government would work and juxtaposes it against a more familiar, wasteful, capitalist world. It's thought-provoking and can be a great tool for self-exploration because this world isn’t easy to live in and has its own challenges.
Even though it took me a long time to get into the story, once I did, I was fascinated by all the details. It's unlike other stories. It offers ideas that don't often get explored in speculative fiction, and it left me with a lot to think about.

This book is prophecy, power, and paranoia wrapped in a sandstorm.

It was the first book that showed me how deeply philosophy and politics could be embedded in a fantastical world. It taught me that “epic” doesn’t mean loud—it means legacy. I still marvel at Herbert’s precision—his control of tone, symbolism, and tension.

It’s the rare kind of book that makes you feel like you’re trespassing into something sacred and dangerous. Every time I return to it, I leave with something new—and a little unsettled.

This is an amazing book to really get sucked into.

Written in 1976, it is a fantasy to go hide in from today’s dystopia of post-COVID and early climate change. You can join 1960s Consuela Ramos in her escape from a forced hospitalization in a mental institution to a utopian world that she visits with Luciente, a time-traveler.

That future is full of amazing people who do not celebrate hierarchies of race and gender but live in anarchist poly-amorous villages where hard labor is performed by machines and babies are produced in breeders with biological components of three parents.

The book is rich in blueprints for liberated education, conflict resolution, socio-economic innovation, and relationships. The beautiful world is threatened by a wicked parallel future world that Consuela must help to prevent.

I loved this book because it was so gripping. It made me long to be a writer. Although it was written over a hundred years ago, the dark story spoke directly to me.

I read it at the darkest time in my life. I was fourteen, and my alcoholic father had become a terrifying force in our home, just like Dr. Moreau, who rules his island with vicious power. I had never dreamed that a crazed leader could break an entire population, but the idea seems shockingly prescient now.

The book made me realize that I, too, could escape from the trap around me, just like the book’s hero, and learn to use my imagination to tell stories.

For me, the worst thing about New York is getting stuck in traffic.

In the New York of 2140, that’s not a problem because rising sea levels have drowned much of Manhattan and motorboats zip through the flooded streets like it’s a high-rise Venice. Future New York is also a city whose residents are coping with the planet’s new reality.

In the midst of climate gloom, it is refreshing to imagine a scenario where New Yorkers can come together through cooperative action to take control of their own future.

I love the hooky concept at this book’s heart: Mahit Dzmare is the new Lsel ambassador sent to the heart of the enormous Teixcalaanli galactic empire to maintain her tiny space station’s independence; but on arrival, she discovers her predecessor was murdered.

Now, she must not only act the diplomat, but she must also solve the murder without offending the very empire that at any moment could swallow her people whole.

The intricate-but-lightly-done world-building further helps bring this book to stunning life as Mahit walks a wobbly tightrope between asking difficult questions and preventing her very dangerous hosts from taking offence even as the politics take a dark turn, which threatens her life and everything she holds dear.

Felix Gilman’s The Half-Made World is a brilliant steampunk allegory about what philosopher Jürgen Habermas calls the colonization of the life-world for a faithless utilitarian reason. Gilman imagines a war that pits defenders of wonder, magic, and voodoo against soulless drones seeking gain through environmental degradation. This is a common enough trope in science fiction but what brings it to another level is Gilman’s personification of wonder and magic in a sleazy, violent anti-hero who is frequently possessed by demons. Gilman embodies the colonizers of the world as monstrous, dragon-like railway engines who order men around using telegrams. The innocent reader who will decide the fate of the world is a brilliant, female doctor who is trying to cure herself of her opium addiction. Gilman’s understanding of the rhythm of nineteenth-century language is amazing. His characters each have unique voices and his beautiful prose suggests that Gilman has spent years… show more.

This book blew me away when I first read it.

Jemisin has created a world of complex politics and religion that’s as original as it is epic. In this world, the move from polytheism to monotheism has been shrouded in lies and half-truths, where the vanquished gods are now enslaved and play a pivotal role in politics.

The slow-burn romance involves Yeine, an unwitting heir to the throne, being put into the path of the brooding Nightlord, one of the enslaved gods. The instability, volatility, and omnipresent danger of their unorthodox relationship are riveting, and the writing is sublime.

I read this during a confusing time—when I was seeking treatment for depression, from age 16 through 24.

Here was the third-most adapted book in history, and yet with each adaptation, the story grew further from the author’s true voice, which was that of an 18-year-old girl. How odd that this could happen, given that Frankenstein revolves around the creature finding his identity.

He only wants to do good, but when he learns how to read, he also learns how to label himself—as separate from God, and separate from man. He believes he must be bad because he’s different. The whole town agrees. 

When I read this, I also felt different. This feeling didn’t go away until I finished my dad’s bucket list and saw the beauty and wonder he’d seen in me. I was different. But this was a good thing. I pray Mary Shelley found the same peace,… show more.