Books like The Unreliable Death of Lady Grange

The popularity of The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie may have obscured its structural genius.

Never have I read a book so comfortable drifting between present and future within a single paragraph, even a single sentence. The short novel simultaneously exists inside a classroom in the 1930s and throughout the lives the students will later have as women.

If the Scottish author Muriel Spark had a literary model for this design, I’ve yet to discover it. Sometimes an artist creates something entirely new.

I’m full of admiration for this book. Morrison is a fifty-something bloke, but this narrative is told in the first person by a teenage girl, Haley, and the voice is totally perfect: opinionated, funny, sulky, naïve. The novel’s full of dark humour, and a real page-turner. Haley is kidnapped by her father to join a group of apocalyptic pandemic survivalists. Are they barking mad or the only people clear-sighted enough to see the danger the world is in from Virus X? You’ll veer from one viewpoint to the other throughout. You’ll also learn how to use a crossbow and what to put in your survival pack. (Warning: I could only read the bit about amputation through my fingers.) 

Another alien novel, but one of the strangest and most profound I’ve read. Isserly drives around in her van in the wilds of Scotland, picking up hitchhikers. But she is no ordinary woman; in fact, she isn’t human at all, but a modified alien tasked with finding humans to be turned into fast food for an alien world.

It is a darkly ironic, strange, and disturbing novel that asks questions about how we treat animals, cleverly reversing its language to refer to humans as aliens and aliens as humans. It felt to me that this book was able to touch on many of the evils of capitalism, not just mass farming but also the treatment of women and women’s bodies. But it doesn’t do this in an obvious way.

It’s an alien novel that’s low on overt science fiction; it’s gritty and real, emotional and lonely. I wasn’t the same… show more.

I loved the main character Paddy Meehan’s voice in this series. Paddy is a lowly copygirl at a Glasgow newspaper with dreams of becoming an investigative journalist during a time when girls are expected to marry out of high school and have babies, not unlike the way things were when I entered the work world. Paddy is intelligent and driven and so outside the mold that her family and boyfriend, indeed the Scottish community, cannot understand her drive to be more than what society demands she should be. She’s someone I rooted for every step of the way as she navigates the old boys’ club in the 1980s and 1990s. Combine Paddy with Mina’s brilliant writing, realistic dialogue, and compelling plotlines, and this series is one to be savored. 

I couldn’t make this up: one night masked men broke into the Edinburgh townhouse of Lord and Lady Grange, gagged Lady Grange, bound her to a chair, and carried out of the house to a waiting horse. From there, they travelled across Scotland to the remote islands of St Kilda, where she was left for the next seven years. Lady Grange was by all accounts unbalanced and difficult to live with, so her husband decided to have her abducted, and told his friends she had died. The west of Scotland at the time was essentially a different country from Edinburgh society, complete with an English-Gaelic language barrier. This story is so outrageous that it is difficult to believe it is true. Pair it with any edition of Johnson and Boswell for another look at life in the west of Scotland in the eighteenth century, and read their versions of the… show more.

Fun fact: in college, my specialty was 16th-century Scotland, which meant I spent several months living in Edinburgh doing research for my senior thesis. In this book, Susanna Kearsley brings to life a Scotland we seldom see in novels but which brings back the Edinburgh I lived in and studied more vividly than anything else I’ve encountered.

There are so many books about the Jacobite rebellion of 1745, but this book tackles the precursor to all that, the tangled politics of the late 17th and early 18th centuries, from the fall-out of the Glorious Revolution and the exile of James II to the ferment around the 1707 Act of Union in all its glorious complexity, through the life of one woman who finds herself—as one does—a normal person buffeted by larger events. Every time I open this book, I feel like I’m back in Edinburgh again. 

Another Police Procedural series introduction. I love James Oswald’s writing and his characters are fascinating. There are some of the usual tropes in here but there is enough that is new and different to keep it fresh. I loved the fact that this had a horror element to it – I don’t read horror but enjoyed it in this case as a bit of seasoning. I think Edinburgh seems to be a great place to set a crime novel, and Oswald seems to know it well and it becomes a character in its own right I think. 

For more than three decades Ian Rankin has been the master of “tartan noir” – police procedural fiction set in Scotland. The curmudgeonly, hard-faced, no-nonsense detective Inspector John Rebus has a tendency to bend the rules as investigations take over his life.

A Song For The Dark Times starts with Rebus’ daughter Samantha calling him to say her husband is missing. Rebus fears the worst and from his experience realises that his daughter will be the prime suspect. You’re always on the edge of your seat wondering whether Rebus will have to prevent the truth from coming out and compromising his position as an upholder of the law.

This was the first book I read when I started my English degree at Aberdeen University and I remember reading it on the train home one weekend and being completely gripped by it. The novel is about two brothers, George and Robert, one of whom is murdered. The structure of the novel is interesting in that, although it is a work of fiction, it presents itself as a found and true document, with the first part being narrated by the ‘editor’ and the second part told from the point of view of Robert. Robert is the quintessential unreliable narrator and his fate can be interpreted in a number of different ways from demonic possession to schizophrenia. It’s a dark and gothic novel that leaves you feeling unsettled long after you have finished it and unsure about what is real and what isn’t.

I loved the fact that this book predated Sherlock Holmes and was written by a genuine 19th-century detective. I also liked the fact it is based in my home town of Edinburgh, arguably one of the most atmospheric cities in the world. The stories are meant to be true and were based on McLevy’s experiences as a detective, moving between the Old and New Towns in the city. 

Finally, I liked the fact that the stories are all bite-sized, easy to read in a single sitting, and laced with the author’s own brand of dry humour.