The most recommended books about Dublin

Like many of Lovric’s novels, Venice features prominently in this book, too, when the seven Harristown sisters, known as the Swiney Godivas, travel there to present their peculiar stage show showcasing their extraordinarily long hair.

Their story originates in Ireland and brings them to London as they scramble their way out of poverty and try to find love. Lovric’s stories always include some gothic, some grotesque, and some pure and enlivening love.

I was drawn into the narrator Manticory’s hopes for a better future while also, at times, feeling squeamish about the more unsavory lengths her sisters go to to find release from their poverty and, later, their eldest sister’s authoritarian rule.

Venice provides the backdrop for the dramatic denouement. Gruesome and gripping, but also beautiful storytelling.

In a Glass Darkly is a collection of unusual Gothic tales. The shorter stories provide the foreboding inevitability of the genre, with atmospheric hauntings and ghostly floating eyes. Fans of M. R. James or H. P Lovecraft will appreciate these.

In addition, the collection features two novella-length stories. Carmilla, an early and influential vampire story, and "The Room At The Dragon Volant", which is a romance horror. Carmilla inspired many of the elements Bram Stoker used in Dracula. Both these longer stories are atmospheric and wonderfully picturesque in their descriptions of the people and places.

John Banville, who won the Booker Prize in 2005 for The Sea, may have retired from literary fiction in favour of more commercially-focused crime novels, but this book proved he has been able to take his extraordinary writing with him–elevating the crime novel to new heights, rather than dumbing-down his own output.

This is the third installment of the Strafford & Quirke mystery series under his own name–he had written others previously with the same characters under his pseudonym, Benjamin Black. Pathologist Dr. Quirke and Detective Inspector Strafford make an unlikely partnership in tackling the darkest crimes of 1950s Dublin, but Banville’s lyrical prose draws you in so all-consumingly it’s easy to forget you exist in your own time period while you have your head in the novel.

Through Streets Broad and Narrow, recounting voices from my native city of Dublin, is a book that makes me happy, sad, and nostalgic.

So wide is its scope in capturing the history, literature, and art of this venerable old city, together with its rich store of songs, street games, and customs, that it touches on all the emotions. Brilliantly compiled by the poet and essayist Declan Collinge, for anyone who wants to know Dublin, this is the book.

In the summer of 1968, I was 20 and spent the summer pretty much banally in Israel and Europe. Around me, the world was on fire, but I was inside my own head.

Eventually, I washed up in Dublin, where I walked in a cold rain to Dorset Street, there to recreate Leopold Bloom’s pork kidney purchase from Dlugacz, the butcher. There was no Dlugacz on Dorset, but there was another butcher who stuffed into stiff pink butcher paper something that glistened and oozed. My plan was to fry it up, as Leopold had, on the hotplate in my rented room. It did not go well. I was felled intestinally in dramatic fashion; pity there was no one to observe. 

Somehow, in my travels, I had obtained a copy of At Swim Two-Birds, and now, my insides recreating The Troubles, I wanly reached for it and read the first paragraph:… show more.

In Dublin Hanged, Henry paints an evocative picture of the turn-of-the-eighteenth-century Irish capital collapsing under rising property crime, food shortages due to series of particularly inclement winters, and political unrest. He also vividly captures the events that led to the organisation of the first metropolitan uniformed police in the British Isles, which came to be widely unpopular. Henry shows, the organisation of the force was costly and in order to fund the new police, the household tax ‘skyrocketed’ virtually overnight. Henry’s analysis reveals there was a marked decline in the frequency of rape and violent assaults in the years following the introduction of the police in October 1786, indicating a degree of effectiveness of the new police despite the lack of its popularity.

No one does dialogue and atmospheric tension like Tana French. Faithful Place is my favorite of hers.

I felt like the characters were so alive that I could hear their voices in my head long after I had closed the book. This story is rife with a gritty, urban Irish atmosphere and thick with familial tension. French does a cross between literary fiction and procedural that is devastating, at times quite dark, and yet ringing with hope—one of my favorite qualities in a mystery.

Best read on a dark, rainy afternoon with a mug of rich coffee—or a Guinness. 

This biography brings fully to life the multi-faceted Austrian physicist Erwin Schrödinger. Although best known as the co-inventor of quantum mechanics, he later wrote a book called What is Life which inspired many physicists to apply their talents to biology. Moore gives a full account of Schrödinger’s upbringing, his education, his science, and his extensive philosophical writings. You can judge for yourself if Moore is persuasive when he argues that the erotic intensity of several of Schrödinger’s extramarital affairs helped fuel and found expression in some of his specific scientific achievements. 

I first read this book in my teens and it profoundly affected me. The storyline is set in Dublin from 1907 to 1914, when a third of the city’s residents were destitute. Large families lived in single rooms in the dilapidated former homes of wealthy landlords. The author weaves the lives of his fictional characters into the workers’ revolt and great lockout of 1913, a tragic time for the ordinary people of Dublin. In spite of this, there are wonderful scenes of kindness and self-sacrifice that a close-knit community will often provide. I feel this book greatly influenced my own writing decades after first reading it. 

Discovering Joyce in my youth was a revelation. In this fictionalised autobiography, Joyce rejects Yeats’s Irish folk models, seeking to emancipate the individual from the nets of family, religion, and nationality.

Whereas the early Yeats romanticises the idea of blood sacrifice for Mother Ireland, Joyce has his hero, Stephen Dedalus, declare Ireland is the old sow that devours her own farrow. Stephen flees Dublin for Europe, choosing the vocation of the cosmopolitan artist who, from exile, will liberate his benighted nation.

Like Yeats, Joyce remains obsessed with Ireland and the tension between the national and the universal.