Books like The Girl with the Golden Eyes — picked by fans

Tangled canals. Crooked alleyways. Slumping palazzi 500-hundred years old. Venice is Italy’s most atmospheric city, right? Maybe. Genoa runs a close second. Both are misunderstood and misrepresented in literature. Outsiders don’t dip below the theme-park surface. Except for the late, great Michael Dibden. Dead Lagoon features Commissario Aurelio Zen, a flawlessly drawn Italian detective. What makes me so sure? Genetics, experience, passion. My mother’s family is Venetian (via Rome). I’ve spent decades diving deep into the Lagoon City. I even did a year of college there. When I follow Zen into those crumbling palaces to unnail their intrigues, or watch him dart down bleak alleys stinking of fish and corruption, I know the writing rings true. Dibden “gets” Italy, unlike other, better-known novelists using Venice as a soft-boiled backdrop.

A double homicide in Sicily. Innocent, eccentric, small-town characters. The Mafia, the church, and a stifling, frightening nightmare world portrayed with humor, humanity, and a diamond-tipped eye for detail: that’s Leonardo Sciascia’s 1960s detective novel classic, To Each His Own (A ciascuno il suo). The writing is clean, clear, nervy, and seductive—some of the best crime writing, period. It even survives translation. This book is at least as good as The Godfather and better than anything by Andrea Camilleri. As you turn the pages, you’re not only transported to off-the-beaten-track, real-deal Sicily. You feel the grit. You smell it. You enter the heads and hearts of Sicilians. Written over 50 years ago, To Each His Own needs no refreshing. That world never changes.

I’ve always thought that this is one of the most brilliantly constructed plots in literature. First serialized in 1859-60, Collins’ story revolves around the mysterious figure of the Woman in White, who always induces a shiver of dread and pity, even on subsequent re-readings. And I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a more terrifyingly memorable mastermind villain than the one Collins gives us here.

Threatened innocence, eerie encounters, dastardly deeds—this book has it all. But best of all is the character of Marian Halcombe, who breaks gender barriers to defend her sister. She is one of the models for my own intrepid Victorian detective, Esther Hardy.

It starts with arguably the most famous first line any novelist has ever written, and I certainly couldn’t stop reading once I had absorbed that.

Rebecca is a classic for all sorts of great reasons. For me, the house is a character here. Manderley is as Gothic as I could ever wish for (and I LOVE Gothic).

Mrs. Danvers, the housekeeper, is one of the most sinister characters ever written. When this novel was first published (1938), certain subjects were pretty much taboo. In the light of today's increased awareness of people’s differing sexualities, I think it’s probably easier to understand her motives – not that it makes her any less scary.

For me, this is a masterpiece of storytelling that defies genre categorization and puts du Maurier firmly in my top favourite authors list.

I loved this story about a protagonist who is living her worst nightmare, and we’re along for the unpredictable twists and turns of her life.

The story is everything you’d expect for a well-conceived psychological drama where true-to-life characters come alive and live the nightmare you’re glad isn’t your own. It held my attention and wouldn’t let go!

I inhaled this gripping thriller in one sitting! It really made me go, wait, what? The author did a phenomenal job keeping me focused on certain details, while twirling other important details in the background. So when it all pieced together, I was truly in awe.

The twists in the book kept me hooked all through. Just when I thought, ah, I think I know where this is going, the very next chapter would make me change my mind. The pacing of this book added to the thrills.

I loved the writing and the characterization. This book, to me, is a great example of combining a most-loved genre while representing important voices and exploring and debunking assumptions. The main character is Filipino-American and I loved reading about the experience through the character’s eyes and told over many years so there’s a clear arc of the changes that time has brought… show more.

This book has the stunning feature of omitting the letter E entirely. It’s also a fascinating story. I confess I read it at least in part to see whether the author has slipped up anywhere or whether he had recourse to clumsy constructions, but he was a writer of too much skill and ingenuity for that!

I fell in love with this book so hard that I read it all in one sitting. (Yes, that means I spent one, entire, luxurious day reading it! That day was an absolute gift.) I loved the writing style, the chance to armchair travel to Paris on the back of Leo’s moped alongside Hannah. It had just enough intrigue but was quiet and charming overall. Reading this book was like taking my mind to a spa to be pampered and rejuvenated. 

Commonly thought to be about death, and our fear thereof, what I find most striking about this book is its piercing and utterly haunting analysis of the role of memories in making us who we are. The most important memories are the ones that are lost, and then return in a new form, deeply woven into our bodies, emotions, and feelings – as blood, as glance and gesture, as Rilke puts it. Rilke was a poet; this was his only excursion into the art form of the novel. So, the book falls apart after a while. But if anyone has written anything better than the first fifty pages or so, I am unacquainted with it.

This guide to Paris is a one-of-a-kind, thoroughly personal—almost private—address book that takes in such fanciful themes as acupuncturists, beekeepers, Bouquinistes, cabarets, fancy dress, Esperanto, and rose gardens.

It provides a vision of Paris that is so idiosyncratic, so fully lived, so persuasive and contagious, so far from cliché, pandering, and pretention, that I discover the city anew each time I browse its beautiful, letterpress printed pages. I think I first met Ivan and Benoît, the founders of Astier de Villatte, when I interviewed them for the first edition of Makers Paris, and since then, they have become my compass for living a bold life of beauty, fun, and freedom.