Books like The Mercy of the Tide

Science fiction and horror go together like a gourmet meal and vintage wine. No one combined them better than the English writer John Wyndham. I was introduced to his fiction in a high school English class, and this was the first prescribed text I gobbled up rather than plodded through.

Horror doesn’t work unless you care about the protagonists, and Wyndham creates an idyllic village populated with relatable characters before introducing the book’s alien interlopers. Also, ‘pregnancy gone wrong’ is one of my favourite tropes and usually it involves body horror, but this is pretty much bloodless—pure, paranoid terror.  

I don’t love everything King writes…but this is one of my all-time favorite books.

A true horror classic in the tradition of Dracula, it transports the gothic horror story from foggy European castles to a small town in rural America. The familiar setting somehow makes the vampires even scarier. And nothing is as frightening as watching monsters feed on helpless and innocent folks like the ones we know in real life.

I love the vampire in this book exactly because he is the stuff of nightmares. This bloodsucker is not some Frank Langella aristocrat with great hair and soulful eyes. This is a Nosferatu—a corpse that feeds not just on blood, but on the hidden desires and frailties of his victims.

I see Barlow (King’s vampire) as a direct literary descendant of Stoker’s Dracula, which makes this novel even scarier…and more enjoyable.

This book is the grandfather of the modern small-town horror story–few novels before or since have developed such a sense of creeping dread and paranoia.

Aside from being impressed with Finney’s writing, the masterful way he manages mood, and the gradual deterioration of trust (which underpins the most admirable qualities of small-town life), I can trace my lineage as a horror writer back to this novel. 

Large publishers have, by and large, turned their noses up at horror and left the indie presses to carry the genre's baton. Set in rural 1920s Texas, this novel brings a few new elements to its chosen trope, and author Timothy Hobbs creates memorable and entertaining characters.

His prose is easy to read—an admirable quality lacking in a lot of modern fiction, I think—yet he generates a sense of place, builds atmosphere, and paints wince-inducing images of gruesomeness. As I write this, I can still ‘see’ his town of Hamilton and remember the people that populate it.

Kaplan’s book captured the mindset of the Cold Warriors and how the concept of a nuclear holocaust became accepted. Brilliantly researched and written with a dispassionate eye, it remains one of the most insightful accounts of the nuclear weapons race and how it was exploited by the military to build their own empires. It was a great influence on my film Baiting the Bear about General Curtis 'Bomb them back to the Stone Age’ Lemay that I made for BBC's Timewatch in 1996. I haven’t yet read Kaplan’s latest book, The Bomb: Presidents, Generals, and the Secret History of Nuclear War, which looks like a development of Wizards with new declassified material. 

By the time I read this book, the Cold War was over, and fears about accidental nuclear war had faded, if not quite totally disappeared. Nevertheless, this one brought me back to my childhood, when movies like War Games and The Day After raised the specter of nuclear holocaust.

It is in the same genre: a technical glitch mistakenly sets in motion America’s nuclear defenses, which could lead to global nuclear war. I was not prepared for the ending (no spoiler!), but it was an effective way to show the dangers of using technology to control America’s nuclear arsenal. 

I’ve always preferred those stories of great global catastrophes that remain in a single small location.

In the case of Alas, Babylon the small town of Fort Repose survives the nuclear holocaust because it’s small. Written at the height of the cold war when there were several and very real moments of brinkmanship between the Soviets and Americans. 

It’s a great read for another reason: this is a well-informed writer. For instance, here we find that salt is as vital for survival as water? And what good is a doctor if he has no medicine? These are things this little community has to face, but the author is hopeful.

This is one of those books that is a lens into a period in time but is at the same time easily readable and to the point. How Fort Repose deals with nuclear Armageddon is the same story of how all… show more.

Red Alert is a 1958 novel by a former RAF pilot called Peter George about nuclear war and was the inspiration for Stanley Kubrick in the concept of his 1964 film Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb. George’s book is a great read and pretty grim but it is not comedic in any way. After playing around with storyboards for a film based on the book, Kubrick realised the only way to deal with the nuclear mindset was through satire. Inspired by Peter George Kubrick somehow got to the nub of the lunacy of the nuclear gamble.

This was three decades before I was able – using then declassified documents and interviews with the generals and policymakers only then just prepared to speak about Mutual Assured Destruction and the Doomsday machine for my documentaries and book in the mid-1990s. They revealed Kubrick,… show more.

Unlike the other recommendations on my list, this is a work of political science. But the qualitative components of this text rival that of any work of history.

In fact, it was this author’s first book that provided the model for my own, blending deeply researched case studies with conceptual innovations in the study of foreign policy decision-making. Her latest contribution, The Insiders’ Game, will set the agenda for the next generation of scholarship on the politics of war.

It reminds us that the public is not the only audience that leaders need to worry about when making decisions to initiate, escalate, or conclude a war. Maintaining the support of advisers, legislators, and military officials is also essential. As a result, it is often the bargains struck with these small groups of political elites that determine how democratic leaders wage war.

This work of fiction arrived at the tail end of the Reagan Era. Read without context, it’s an enjoyable romp through the life of “Gen X’ers” and their pre-professional lives. However, much as psychologists of the 1950s ascribed one root cause of the growing problem of “Juvenile Delinquency” to fears of atomic war, Coupland’s characters are similarly disaffected from growing up during a period of similar fears—fears confirmed when one character dreams of dying in an atomic explosion. In tracing the lives of three fictional characters of this last Cold War generation, Coupland shows the emotional impact of growing up knowing that they could die any day. Seen in this light, Generation X captures the disaffection, disillusion, and dissatisfaction of a generation.