100 Books Like The Diamond Age

I knew the film Blade Runner before I read this, the novel upon which it's based, but I was not prepared for the richer complexities of the novel.

My favorite parts of the novel, a bizarre new religion and the extinction of all but human and animal life, barely make it into the film. Even the androids, built to be slaves, are much more nuanced and complex than in the film. I loved the conclusion of the book, which affirms the beauty of life, both natural and mechanical.

Most of the time sequels are disappointing, but not this one. I thoroughly enjoyed this follow-up to “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” as Arthur and Ford and other weird characters deal with a possible Doomsday.

It turns into a quest of sorts to find not the answer to the secret of life and the universe—which is 42, because, of course, it would be something absurd like that—but the question to the answer. Which is also absurd! I was amused as well as intrigued by their adventure, which included finding a good cup of tea and a good place to eat, the restaurant mentioned in the book’s title.

I first encountered Douglas Adams when I caught The Hitchhiker’s Guide on late-night radio, and I was hooked. The novel is slightly different, with Adams giving a bit more consideration to plot and logic, but it has the same wonderful, rapid-fire dialogue style, which has seldom been replicated.

I absolutely love Arthur Dent’s ludicrous accidental odyssey, meeting characters like Zaphod Beeblebrox and the wonderfully named Slartibartfast. The Guide sits in the background, popping up to provide superbly funny explanations of the history of the universe, humanity’s obsession with money, and a lot more.

For me, the thing that sets this apart from a lot of SFF humor is its ‘Britishness’—there’s a distinct feel of the surreal comic legacy of, for example, Monty Python and The Goon Show.

A Transatlantic Tunnel, Hurrah! is an outlier, if you like. I call it ‘proto-Steampunk’ as it was published before the term was coined in the early 1980s. Regardless, it could be a template for Steampunk when it arrived. In some ways, it’s an alternate history, and it has steam-powered contraptions, big engineering projects, a Victorian tone that still incorporates our modern gaze, cameo appearances by real historical figures, and a rip-roaring narrative. Its rollicking diction is uplifting, and it mirrors the gorgeous stiff upper lip tone of much Victorian fiction to heart-warming effect. It plays with the manners, morals, and decorum of the times to create a world that isn’t the nineteenth century as it was, but as it should have been. The edition I have, purchased many years ago, has a foreword by the notoriously curmudgeonly Auberon Waugh where he admits that he ‘cried like a baby at the… show more.

My journey with this book came at a young age, recommended to me by my older brother, and was a formative experience. Not only was it an early experience with a more adult version of the fantasy literature I’d grown up reading but it also built a bond between my brother and I, it was a shared literary experience that became special because of who I shared it with.

It opened my eyes to the idea that you could write this kind of stuff for grown-ups, and therefore, a whole new world of reading was opened to me.

OK, yes, I know. It’s fiction, and the first steampunk novel too. But I think that sometimes fiction can tell us (almost) as much as factual history about the past, if the authors have done their research – and Gibson and Sterling absolutely have. I can even tell just what academic papers they’d been reading!

It’s alternative history Victorian, But I think it tells us a lot about the real Victorians too, because it shows just how much technology mattered to their sense of who they were and what made them different from their parents. And, obviously, it’s a great story.

When encountering a spinster alone at a ball, there is no excuse to forget proper manners, even—or perhaps especially—if one is a vampire. Or werewolf. I adored the voice in this book, which gave that Jane Austen feel, except brimming with humor.

The characters enchanted me as they balanced between high-society manners and the reality of living with (or being) supernatural creatures. The interactions between solidly practical Alexia and exasperated Lord Maccon made it a romance I couldn’t help but root for.

Even if Alexia was soulless, you can’t convince me her werewolf wasn’t her soulmate. A perfect blend of Victorian London and paranormal romance.

This book filled me with pure wonder. The futuristic setting felt like a glimpse into a world we’re on the brink of creating, where technology can be both a refuge and a battlefield. I loved the way it combined a digital universe with a gritty, imperfect reality—it made me think about how much potential the future holds, both thrilling and terrifying.

The sense of exploration and possibility was so vivid that I found myself daydreaming about what could be long after I turned the last page. It’s a story that reminds me how powerful imagination can be. The characters aren’t perfect, which made them feel real, and I was hooked by the idea of ordinary kids taking on extraordinary challenges. This one made me feel like anything was possible in the future.

I really like this book because it's a thrilling tech story that gets you thinking about how technology might change our world. The book made me realize how powerful and risky AI can be. I love how fast-paced the story is and how it makes you consider issues of control and freedom.

The way the author talks about technology and its effects on people really got me thinking. The book makes you wonder about how society and technology come together, and it's interesting.

I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream is the first title on my list that is merely a short story. That said, what Harlan Ellison’s Hugo Award-winning sci-fi tale lacks in length, it makes up in complexity. Set in a post-apocalyptic future, the story follows the horrific ordeal of five humans artificially kept alive by AM (Allied Master computer), a programme responsible for the near-extinction of humanity. AM derives its pleasure and purpose from endlessly torturing the last living humans, rendering them immortal and unable to commit suicide. This unique supervillain became my inspiration for the Neon God – a corrupt, mind games-obsessed A.I. announced in my Neon Science-Fiction novel. Ellison’s story, however, conjures up images of desolation and despair I’ve yet to encounter in a work of science fiction.