Books like Strumpet City — picked by fans

I marveled at the human spirit expressed so vividly in this book when it became clear it would be impossible to survive when torture and death swirled about as if the prisoners were held in a wind tunnel when all that was left was to steal personal items off fellow fallen prisoners in order to barter and live another day, I prayed for the sun to rise just one more time for Lale and his love, Gita so that they would one day tear their tattered prison garb off and hold onto each other outside the gates of hell.

How sad, yet miraculous, having the job of tattooing the number on the arms of Jewish prisoners helped to ultimately liberate Lale. I burned through this novel at breakneck speed, all the while soaking in the simple yet utterly visceral prose. This book gave me hope that love will outlast hate… show more.

This is a meta-fictional novel about the fragile state of memory and interpretation.

Stories can save us, and in the case of 13-year-old Briony Tallis, stories can ruin us. A single accusation is enough to destroy her sister, a young man’s life, and their future together. It shows us that the art of writing can be both sacred and profane.

It is a novel inhabited by ghosts, one that taught me the importance of absence in storytelling, of the silences and liminal spaces when writing about epic events. The style obfuscates the plot, then later renders it in vivid detail.

What lives between the lines is critical. It asks if forgiveness and acts of retribution can counter the death that eventually comes for all of us.

This is the first book in a trilogy that follows multiple generations of a fictional Irish family. Set in the mid-1600s, Cromwell’s soldiers leave a trail of destruction behind as they attack towns and villages throughout the country. After his wife is killed in the massacre of Drogheda Dominick McMahon and his two children, along with a wounded priest, set out to find a safer place to live. The story is compelling and, although part of a trilogy, can be read as a stand-alone novel. It has everything I like about historical fiction – captivating characters woven into a series of major events that pull the reader into a bygone era.

This is an eyewitness account of the Great Hunger in Ireland for the years 1847-1849, written by an American woman who felt pity for the poor Irish immigrants fleeing their native land. Her first trip to Ireland was just before the Great Hunger and although conditions were bad then, they were much worse on her second visit. Her accounts allow the reader to see what takes place through her eyes and they are harrowing at times. Not only does the author inform us of the dire situation of the poor but she also pays tribute to those who lost their lives in the struggle to help others. This was one of the books I used as a reference while writing my own series.

This book has so much I love about it: it’s set in Dublin, the home of my father and therefore part of my heritage.

It features a group of feisty women, the youngest of whom is in her fifties (way younger than me), while the rest are old enough to know better. It’s packed full of humour—who wouldn’t laugh at the idea of the older generation behaving worse than the teenagers. And there’s a huge dollop of old Irish magic to add to the mix.

Despite the fact that this wonderful group of women seem to attract dead bodies like magnets, this is definitely in the cosy sub-genre. And I loved every word of this book and the rest of the series.

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.

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.

Mistaken is the tale of two boys (Kevin and Gerald) who are remarkably similar in appearance, though far from similar in affluence and background. The story is set in Dublin and told from the point of view of Kevin, now older and having just attended Gerald’s funeral. It slipstreams through past and present, and at nearly every corner it leaves Kevin questioning his own identity and memories, and wondering if perhaps the boys’ connection had even greater implications than he thought. In my book, there is a fictional novel within the novel, about twins who aren’t twins, and it is loosely inspired by the meeting of Kevin and Gerald in Mistaken.

Neil Jordan is an underrated talent, and his writing is superbly atmospheric here.

I picked this because it showed me – and still does – that the most foreign journey is within, and that when the body stops travelling, the spirit takes over the trek.

Brennan is a fabulous writer – at her best, among the best – and in her head (she wore a beehive that according to a colleague at The New Yorker was taller than she was) she is travelling all the time.

She ought to be better known. 

Here I am recommending three books in one, because I think they should be read one after the other in a single holiday week where the rain is pouring down outside and you can lock yourself away and completely disappear into Doyle’s working-class Dublin universe. If you do not fall in love with the Rabbite family in all their imperfections, then uplit is not for you. I guarantee that no bad vibes will penetrate your mind while you are reading the Barrytown trilogy.