Here are 100 books that This Mortal Coil fans have personally recommended if you like
This Mortal Coil.
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I’m an award-winning playwright and screenwriter. My work has been widely staged in London, across the UK, and internationally. I’ve had the honor of receiving the Royal Society of Literature Award and the Michael Grandage Futures Bursary Award, and I was also nominated for Political Play of the Year. Before I began writing, I worked as an anthropologist. Happy Death Club is my first nonfiction book.
I've been a huge fan of mortician Caitlin Doughty for years, and this nonfiction book (which sees Doughty traveling from Japan to Colorado to Indonesia, looking at different things people do with the bodies of their deceased loved ones and how it helps them cope with loss) made me laugh like no other death book, and it taught me a lot, too.
I was especially intrigued by the chapter on human composting: the idea that it's possible to let a body decompose naturally in the earth, so it turns to compost. When my father died I had him buried in a compostable coffin made of banana tree, without any preservatives, and I like the idea of his body feeding flowers and bugs and becoming part of the harmonious web of life.
Fascinated by our pervasive fear of dead bodies, mortician Caitlin Doughty embarks on a global expedition to discover how other cultures care for the dead. From Zoroastrian sky burials to wish-granting Bolivian skulls, she investigates the world's funerary customs and expands our sense of what it means to treat the dead with dignity. Her account questions the rituals of the American funeral industry-especially chemical embalming-and suggests that the most effective traditions are those that allow mourners to personally attend to the body of the deceased. Exquisitely illustrated by artist Landis Blair, From Here to Eternity is an adventure into the…
A moving story of love, betrayal, and the enduring power of hope in the face of darkness.
German pianist Hedda Schlagel's world collapsed when her fiancé, Fritz, vanished after being sent to an enemy alien camp in the United States during the Great War. Fifteen years later, in 1932, Hedda…
In December 2000, my much-loved Grandma died. Her funeral was a standard 20-minute slot at the local crematorium, led by someone who didn’t know her. How I didn’t walk out, I’ll never know–but the experience certainly lit a fire under my work as an academic historian, which has burned ever since. As a historian, I’m passionate about what the past can teach us about how to die well: what makes for a good funeral, and for whom? How have our answers to these questions changed–or maybe not–over the decades and centuries?
Such an elegantly written exploration of landscapes of the afterlife, where people in the past believed that souls went to after death, and how those beliefs then shaped funeral customs.
The author evinces an excellent grasp of human nature, especially when discussing the Reformation and how people often clung tenaciously to old beliefs and customs, which helped them make sense of human mortality and loss.
Roaming across the country and over several centuries, this book is packed with quirky, charming examples of how people maintain relationships with their dead.
'This is a wonderful book: curious and insightful' Ian Mortimer, author of The Time Traveller's Guide to Medieval England
We know what happens to the body when we die, but what happens to the soul? The answer may remain a great unknown, but the question has shaped centuries of tradition, folklore and religious belief.
In this vivid history of the macabre, Carl Watkins goes in search of the ancient customs, local characters and compelling tales that illuminate how people over the years have come to terms with our ultimate fate. The result is an enthralling journey into Britain's past, from…
In December 2000, my much-loved Grandma died. Her funeral was a standard 20-minute slot at the local crematorium, led by someone who didn’t know her. How I didn’t walk out, I’ll never know–but the experience certainly lit a fire under my work as an academic historian, which has burned ever since. As a historian, I’m passionate about what the past can teach us about how to die well: what makes for a good funeral, and for whom? How have our answers to these questions changed–or maybe not–over the decades and centuries?
This classic study of the 1832 Anatomy Act is a great combination of scholarly history writing and a call for social justice.
It recounts how the Act solved the problem of corpses being stolen for medical research–by instead appropriating the bodies of poor people who had died in the workhouses. Abuses are still happening: Richardson links the Anatomy Act to the 1990s Alder Hey scandal.
This book reminds me how important it is to keep institutions that deal with the dead accountable–and to know our rights when the time comes.
In the early nineteenth century, body snatching was rife because the only corpses available for medical study were those of hanged murderers. With the Anatomy Act of 1832, however, the bodies of those who died destitute in workhouses were appropriated for dissection. At a time when such a procedure was regarded with fear and revulsion, the Anatomy Act effectively rendered dissection a punishment for poverty. Providing both historical and contemporary insights, Death, Dissection, and the Destitute opens rich new prospects in history and history of science. The new afterword draws important parallels between social and medical history and contemporary concerns…
Delve into this internationally best-selling series, now complete! A fast paced laugh-out-loud mix of Urban Fantasy and Mystery.
I can tell when you’re lying. Every. Single. Time. I’m Jinx, a PI hired to find a missing university student, I hope to find her propped up at a bar–yet my gut…
In December 2000, my much-loved Grandma died. Her funeral was a standard 20-minute slot at the local crematorium, led by someone who didn’t know her. How I didn’t walk out, I’ll never know–but the experience certainly lit a fire under my work as an academic historian, which has burned ever since. As a historian, I’m passionate about what the past can teach us about how to die well: what makes for a good funeral, and for whom? How have our answers to these questions changed–or maybe not–over the decades and centuries?
If our traditions of death and burial are products of the past, then what might the future of funerals look like?
I keep going back to this book because it’s such a sympathetic, insightful exploration of how social media and AI are already radically transforming our relationships with our dead. Not only that, but the very nature of memory itself is also changing in interesting ways.
The book deftly articulates both the positives and the shadow sides of grieving in an increasingly digital world, all expressed with warmth, wit, and a great understanding of the complexities of human nature.
'As charming and touching as it is astute and insightful' Adam Alter, New York Times bestselling author of Irresistible and Drunk Tank Pink
'This a very useful book, even perhaps for people who have never been near a computer in their lives' Jake Kerridge, Sunday Telegraph
Seen any ghosts on your smartphone lately?
As we're compelled to capture, store and share more and more of our personal information, there's something we often forget. All that data doesn't just disappear when our physical bodies shuffle off this mortal coil. If the concept of remaining socially active after you're no longer breathing…
I’m a queer, nonbinary, Muslim, immigrant writer who has been reading their whole life and writing for part of it. I learned to write by reading–by devouring all kinds of books across different genres and paying attention to how words create feelings, worlds, and chronologies. I also learned to live by reading–I didn’t grow up with models of how to live a life that was true to my identities and so I read everything I could find about experiences that were adjacent to my own. The emergence of queer Muslim literature has been exciting to follow, and I try to read everything in the field.
For me, this book of short stories is all about unforgettable characters: queer, Muslim on a spectrum between practicing and not, of various ethnic backgrounds. I love that the characters have complicated lives and make not easily understood decisions.
I love that the characters struggle against, with, and towards their identities. And: it’s really funny!
Award-winning novelist Randa Jarrar's new story collection moves seamlessly between realism and fable, history and the present, capturing the lives of Muslim women and men across myriad geographies and circumstances. With acerbic wit, deep tenderness, and boundless imagination, Jarrar brings to life a memorable cast of characters, many of them "accidental transients"a term for migratory birds who have gone astrayseeking their circuitous routes back home. Fierce and feeling, Him, Me, Muhammad Ali is a testament to survival in the face of love, loss, and displacement.
Randa Jarrar is the author of a highly successful novel, A Map of Home, which…
As an early childhood educator, I have firsthand experience with the effectiveness of picture books to stimulate the mind, open conversation, offer emotional support, and provide us all with the fundamentals of understanding ourselves and others. I have supported children and families suffering a loved one’s death by sharing picture books with them. My book, The Rag Doll Gift is based on the true story of my mother who died before giving my youngest her doll. This story was born when my daughter received her doll and said, in all her six-year-old wisdom, “Grammie is still saying” I love you” even when we can’t hear her anymore”
When I read this book with children, we are all drawn into the secure loving relationship between the granddaughter and her grandfather. Because the text is action-based, we feel like we are on each of their adventures with them.
Through the beautifully illustrated pages we walk alongside them discovering life as we witness each of them changing and growing older – until the day the granddaughter walks alone. She is sad, but Grandpa has walked with her in life. He has taught her in a very naturally occurring, organic way so that now she knows what to do. This book evokes a wide range of feelings – including empowerment from within.
This glowing picture book, by turns playful and poignant, portrays the tender relationship between a grandfather and granddaughter as they appreciate nature together over the years. They take their first walk in the woods when the little girl is barely old enough to toddle; their last when Grandfather can only shuffle along. Each walk brings a new discovery-a sneaky snake, flashing fireflies, teardrops on a spiderweb-and sometimes a lesson about saying good-bye. One day the girl walks alone, stronger because she learned from her grandfather how to be grateful for life's fleeting gifts.
On the morning of December 26, 2004, an undersea earthquake struck off the coast of Sumatra in the Indian Ocean. The resulting tsunami killed an estimated 230,000 people across fourteen countries, from Indonesia to Sri Lanka to Thailand to the Maldives to India and all the way to East Africa.…
I am an author and illustrator of children's picturebooks, having completed my MA at the Cambridge School of Art. I am endlessly fascinated with the picture book as a rich medium for children to safely and slowly approach topics that might be challenging for them. Picture books can be such a versatile, interesting place for curiosity and confidence to thrive, while also creating a lovely time for closeness between parent/carer and child. As we grapple with the long-term effects of the pandemic, I feel that children will need stories more than ever, to help them make sense of their experiences.
This subtle and tender book is a moving look at life continuing in small moments after a bereavement. I love the marriage of words and images, where each part tells a different piece of the story and the relationship between the boy and his father. The boy asks questions, about the birds, the trees, the fox, and his mother, looking for reassurance. When the father repeats "everything is going to be alright," we are all reassured and comforted, and held safe in arms like a boat.
It's quieter than it's ever been. Unable to sleep, a young boy climbs into his father's arms. Feeling the warmth and closeness of his father, he begins to ask questions about the birds, the foxes, and whether his mom will ever wake up. They go outside under the starry sky. Loss and love are as present as the white spruces, while the father's clear answers and assurances calm his worried son. Here we feel the cycles of life and life's continuity, even in the face of absence and loss, so strongly and clearly that we know at the end that…
I have accompanied dying people for more than twenty-five years—as a counsellor, volunteer chaplain, and companion. I feel passionate about changing the perception of dying and death, the way we care for people during their most vulnerable moments, and how we support families through this painful time. Since my twenties I have been immersed in Buddhist practise which inspires and informs my life and work. Together with other clinicians and mindfulness practitioners, we created one of the first contemplative-based training in end-of-life care for caregivers called “Authentic Presence”. Daring to be present might be the hardest thing you may have done in your life, and, you may come to discover, one of the most intimate, beautiful, and rewarding.
Dr. Ira Byock is a well-known authority in palliative care and hospice and a wonderful storyteller. In his stories, he talks about the physical realities of the dying process, the emotional despair we may witness, or how to handle family dynamics. He doesn't shy away from reflecting on his personal growth doing this work, which makes this book deeply human and relatable. Dying Well was published several years ago. It is still an informative and insightful read, especially if you are a family caregiver and care for a loved one. Please also check out his other books, Four Things That Matter Most and The Best Care Possible.
From Ira Byock, prominent palliative care physician and expert in end of life decisions, a lesson in Dying Well.
Nobody should have to die in pain. Nobody should have to die alone.
This is Ira Byock's dream, and he is dedicating his life to making it come true. Dying Well brings us to the homes and bedsides of families with whom Dr. Byock has worked, telling stories of love and reconciliation in the face of tragedy, pain, medical drama, and conflict. Through the true stories of patients, he shows us that a lot of important emotional work can be accomplished…
I love middle-grade books (for eight to twelve-year-olds), which is why I write in that genre. My Summer of L.U.C.K. trilogy is sprinkled with magical adventures, but each one has real-life kids struggling with real-life problems and finding real-world solutions. I believe that books whose characters experience magical elements along with themes of friendship, perseverance, and self-acceptance will help them learn, as I did when I was a young reader, that whatever troubles they're experiencing, other kids have those troubles too, that they're not alone, and that help is possible.
I’m a sucker for books about restored faith, particularly one with a Victorian house on the cover (see The Diamond in the Window below). That’s what caught my eye about Jess Redman’s beautifully written book, but the main character, a kid named Wunder, really drew me in and kept me reading.
I loved following Wunder’s journey as his faith in miracles falters after the death of his newborn sister. What touched me the most was how his connection with a woman–maybe a witch–who resides in the crumbling Victorian house helps reawaken his belief in everyday magic. This is one of my top favorite magical middle grade books of all time.
In the tradition of heartwrenching and hopeful middle grade novels such as Bridge to Terabithia comes Jess Redman's stunning debut about a young boy who must regain his faith in miracles after a tragedy changes his world.
Eleven-year-old Wunder Ellis is a miracologist. In a journal he calls The Miraculous, he records stories of the inexplicable and the extraordinary. And he believes every single one. But then his newborn sister dies, at only eight days old. If that can happen, then miracles can’t exist. So Wunder gets rid of The Miraculous. He stops…
Nelson West, a former Chicago homicide detective, is hired by wealthy heir Lionel Bing to discreetly help “fix” scandals and legal problems for his father’s wealthy friends.
Bing, a brilliant but troubled investigator, suffers from PTSD symptoms as a result of being kidnapped and witnessing the murder of his mother…
I first turned to the ‘dark side’ of travel when a student of mine introduced me to ‘dark tourism’. Sadly the world is littered with places of tragedy where our misfortunes are exposed by dark tourism. As a social scientist, I have been writing about visiting our significant dead for over 20 years. I am fascinated as to why particular deaths are remembered, by whom, and how our dead are (re)presented within visitor economies. I have lectured and published extensively within academia, as well as being a media consultant. I continue to tell tales of our dead and how we attach cultural importance to certain kinds of death.
This was one of the first books that got me thinking critically about ‘dark tourism’. Harrison inspired me to look at how the dead maintain their relations with the living. In turn, the book galvanized my thinking of the many touristic places where the dead cohabit the world of the living. These range from graves, monuments, and memorials, and made me think about how we give the dead a memorialized afterlife. Drawing upon philosophy, history, and poetry, Harrison teaches us that as we follow in the footsteps of the dead, we are not self-authored. Instead, the thought of death shapes the communion of the living. Within the ‘Dominion of the Dead’, the dead become our guardians where we give them a future so that they may give us a past.
In The Dominion of the Dead, Robert Pogue Harrison explores the many places where the dead cohabit the world of the living - the graves, images, literature, architecture, and monuments that house the dead in their afterlife among us. This elegantly conceived work devotes particular attention to the practice of burial. Harrison contends that we bury our dead to humanize the lands where we build our present and imagine our future. Through inspired readings of major writers and thinkers such as Vico, Virgil, Dante, Pater, Nietzsche, Heidegger, and Rilke, he argues that the buried dead form an essential foundation where…
