Books like Rainbirds

Sent off to the old Derbyshire farm to convalesce, Penelope Taverner opens a door, steps into the world of the tragic stand-off between Mary Queen of Scots and Elizabeth of England, and hardly notices she's time-travelling.

She's just there, among people who dress a little strangely: accepted as exactly what she is, the daughter of an old family connection, come to stay for a while. Nothing can be done. Mary of Scots can't be saved; nor can the courageous Babingtons. It's intense and a bit voyeurish in a way, because the time-traveller is always going to walk away unharmed from tragedy, if not untouched.

I loved this story when I was a child, but what I notice most as an adult writer is Alison Uttley's method with the time travel: a real innovation. No clunky explanation, no clever rationale. It's all about hints and glimpses, haunting fragments; drifting into each… show more.

I find H.Rider Haggard's famous tales of adventure (e.g. King Solomon's Mines) pretty disgusting: bunch of white guys in southern Africa, where they can slaughter and loot at will, far from the constraints of “civilised” society.

But “She” is one of a kind. A perilous wilderness, where the people who put pots on the heads of strangers have a very sinister outlook on life (these are cooking pots, and this is a stranded population, desperate for protein). Their immortal goddess (originally Ancient Greek?) lives in a tomb, doesn't seem to eat or drink; talks like a spoilt, entitled Victorian debutante, and fascinates our hero.

I imagine the author, a humble civil servant when not dreaming of glorious gory derring-do, met young ladies of her kind socially, and was snubbed a few times. She pays... and I won't spoil the horror of it for you, but it's pretty bad! A guilty… show more.

George MacDonald was a Scottish preacher who turned to fantasy fiction, and became a sort of Victorian superstar: “Queen Victoria gave copies of Robert Falconer to her grandchildren. Everybody read his books—Lewis Carroll, John Ruskin, H.G. Wells, Charles Dickens, Edna Lyall, Mark Twain . . . as well as the queen herself.”

I don't think I can explain the attraction to modern reader, you'll get it or you won't: I first met his novel-length “romances” (Phantastes and Lilith) when I was eight, suffering after a horrible trip to the dentist, and found the stories very weird and comforting. Whereas most “fairy tales” are quite brutal, if you're paying attention.

R.Murray Gilchrist was a Derbyshire man from a good Derbyshire family, liked or loved by the local people he met and helped, but a loner, a total oddity in the wild English Peak District of a hundred years ago: who wanted to be an artist of all things.

His stories are grotesque, sad, touching, and strange; all at once. He doesn't seem to set out to frighten the reader, not at all, but there's a sense of eerie, rather dreadful, longing that will haunt you. As Ellis Reed says (read the article), this was Lovecraft before Lovecraft, but with no cute tentacled monsters to lighten things up. Don't read them all at once.

I actually found this book on a recent trip to Japan, as it has finally been translated into English. Set in 1869, at the dawn of the tumultuous Meiji Era, a series of murders plague Tokyo. Inspectors Kazuki and the real-life Toshiyoshi Kawaji are called in to investigate, leading them through the lowest and highest parts of the city.

As a historical fiction writer myself, I am extremely partial to novels in this genre, especially historical crime thrillers. This book fills a spot which is relatively unknown in the West and one I highly recommend.

I was moved and delighted by this highly original novel, which blends murder-mystery with heartfelt philosophical explorations into animal rights, mysticism, existential anxiety, and our own humanity.

Narrator-protagonist Janina, a woman who translates Blake, studies horoscopes and feels a deep connection to the animals around her; she tells the story of what happens one winter when a series of men in her Polish village are murdered by a culprit yet to be found.

I adored this book’s intelligence and blending of tragedy and humor. Its narrative combines a compelling plot with a distinctive first-person voice and deeply thoughtful reflections about the beauty, cruelty, and wonder of life.

As with William Kent Krueger, I love all of Sandford’s Prey novels (and there are a lot!). This is the first one I read, and I guess I got hooked because I want to be—if I’m honest—either one of the main characters that persist through his books, and that appear in this one. Virgil Flowers is a lithe, laid-back, really smart guy who has long hair and wears band T-shirts; absolutely not the sort of person you’d associate with the U.S. Marshals Service, yet there he is! (He also has his own series, good for us!). Lucas Davenport is his boss, and Lucas is big, ruthless, and very rich—and loves hunting bad guys. But what I think I’m drawn to most is that he says exactly what he thinks, gets the job done by any means possible, and does not brook fools. At all. And, as I said, I am… show more.

In an old mansion that has become a school for wayward girls, a series of troublesome deaths occur. The school is reminiscent of the horrible Lowood School in Jane Eyre, one of my all-time favorite books. The story unfolds across multiple timelines—I enjoyed the 1950s story the most. The crimes are solved in the present day by a determined heroine, and the supernatural element is well integrated into the plot.  

I love all of Tana French’s taut, riveting detective novels, but this book is my favorite.

When Cassie Maddox goes undercover to investigate a murder, she finds herself enmeshed with the dead girl’s quirky group of housemates. As she’s drawn into their lives, she is increasingly emotionally involved with them in ways that charge the atmosphere with exquisite tension and regret.

I loved the way this novel drew me into the exuberant household so that, like Cassie, I fell in love with everyone, wishing fervently for things to turn out okay and knowing there was no way they could. 

Mukherjee’s first chapter is a masterclass on how to open a mystery-thriller.

“It’s not unusual to find a corpse in a funeral parlor. It’s just rare for them to walk door under their own steam. It was a riddle worth savoring, but I didn’t have the time, seeing as I was running for my life.” This got my interest right away. I was in!

Mukherjee’s protagonist is in an opium den at the wrong time. Beautifully bookended, opium forms the personal struggles of this worthy protagonist. With quirky lines “take me to your organ grinder” and “we’re here to see Torquemada” I enjoyed this action-packed story, set against the backdrop of the 1920s Indian independence movement.

Protagonist Sam Wyndham is an English policeman who’s apolitical, and I enjoyed his comic-accurate cynical portrayal of both Indian proclivities and the British pretensions. But Indians are far more than backdrop, and form vibrant… show more.