100 books like The Third Policeman

I found this book in college, and at the time, I thought it was the most unique book I had ever read.

Thompson’s “Gonzo Journalism” was fresh, funny, and thought-provoking, with a subtext of modern poetry, political activism, and a sense of humor I have never seen replicated.

People who read The Master and Margarita will tell you that it is one of the greatest books they have ever read, but few can tell you why. It defies description.  It is truly unique. 

It opens on a blistering hot day in Moscow, a paradox in itself. The devil, seemingly out of Goethe’s Faust, is on a visit to the town. He and his strange entourage would be laughable, if they were not so lethal. Only the madness of Stalin’s paranoid Communism could have created such a story.

Bulgakov has an uncanny way of investing even the most unlikely scenes with intense realism. You never doubt him.  At times hilarious, at times terrifying, the book shows us what a fragile hold we have on reality.

Coming from Herefordshire on the border with Wales, my own novels are often steeped in the natural reflections of eerie rural isolation, with the folklore and pagan customs of those places existing hand in hand with the newer forms of Christianity. Perhaps this is why I connect so passionately with the novels that are set in Thomas Hardy's Wessex.

And what a spell beautiful Tess was to weave around my heart. This profoundly moving novel will never be forgotten.

It takes a certain kind of person to succeed in the sport of cycling, and The Rider is possibly the closest I’ll ever get to understanding that mindset. This book tops every list of recommendations of cycling novels that I’ve ever seen and with good reason.

Told in the first person, it’s completely immersive. We follow the narrator through a single day’s race, and we feel all of it as he does: the slog, the suffering, the drive to win. I might have wondered why he kept going, but the simple act of reading the book answers that question: you can’t stop. I barely drew breath.

I love Noir because it starts out plausibly enough but quickly starts slipping sideways into stranger realms. Of course, it’s Christopher Moore, so it’s going to be hilarious. I was amazed by the world-building Moore undertakes in creating the seamy underside of late-40s San Francisco. The Raymond Chandler/Dashiell Hammett vibe totally drew me in.

I found Noir’s San Francisco to be not quite realistic and not quite cartoonish, but very engaging. It’s a perfect place for Sammy “Two Toes” Tiffin, a down-on-his-luck bartender who meets the love of his life while the rest of his world goes cuckoo. Adding in twists involving a crashed flying saucer and a secret conspiracy of the wealthy and powerful had me hooked.

Saint Erkenwald is arguably the earliest ghost story in the English Language. 

It is an alliterative poem by Ralph Strode, author of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, the finest poet of the English middle ages. The effect which it has on its audiences is mesmerising. 

They follow Bishop Erkenwald down to a bronze-age tomb in the foundations of Saint Paul’s Cathedral, with a living corpse inside. A lover of paradox, Strode saw time as simultaneously a continuum and a series of moments (atoms). Only in the moment can change occur, and a man who has been imprisoned for a thousand years be released. 

When I read the only surviving copy of the poem, I was so moved that I had to catch my own tear before it fell and smudged the ink. 

Another example of Irish ingenuity, FitzJames O’Brien had a wider breadth of imagination even than his mentor Edgar Allen Poe, and a pin-sharp focus in his writing. 

His stories are better known in the U.S.A., but I came upon them by accident, and was amazed. Stories such as the Wondersmith, the Lost Room, and the Diamond Lens were inspirational to other writers and filmmakers, but what is so wonderful is the variety in his storytelling. Each work is different. 

He emigrated from Cork to America, where he got caught up in the Civil War and died all too soon at 35. It was a great loss. The picture he paints of the dark side of nineteenth century New York is not easily forgotten, and the tales he creates there are both inspiring and disturbing.

I wasn’t following professional cycling in the bad old days of systematic doping, but this book made me feel like I was there—not just at the roadside, but in the peloton.

The characters—the good, the bad, and the downright repulsive, are all caught in a system that grinds down the best and brings out the worst, and I couldn’t look away. I wanted integrity to prevail, I wanted justice done, but most of all, I wanted to know what happened next.

Then there’s the prose, which is so bright and vivid that I found a new favourite line in almost every chapter. It’s compulsive, stylish, and cynical—rather like the sport itself.

For me, cycling has meant freedom. This book celebrates the bicycle as a tool for women’s emancipation. Microcosm Publishing has a strong track record (pun intended) in celebrating feminism, cycling, and the intersection of the two, and this is a particularly good example.

Set in a universe that seems to be just a jump away from our own, about a century and a half ago, it’s insightful on matters of class and wealth, too. I particularly enjoyed all the little details of fashion. I found myself rooting hard for the heroine in her struggle to ride a bike, not just competitively, but at all. And I was charmed by a love story I wasn’t expecting.

I thought I’d finish this list with something more directly relevant to me and the millions of others who cycle just for pleasure and transport.

This charming book, in which a young man takes a holiday from his tedious job and encounters an equally liberated young woman, dates from the early days of the bicycle, and for me, it still captures the sense of freedom, of horizons opening up, that I experienced myself when I really got into cycling.

For me, it had an extra layer of enjoyment: I used to live in Surrey, and even at over a century’s remove, I could recognise some of the towns and landscapes the protagonists travel through. I really enjoyed the journey!