The most recommended Victorian books

This book's heightened literary consciousness suggests a lifetime of practice, but it is, in fact, Gwendolyn Kiste's debut (she has quickly become one of contemporary dark fiction’s most celebrated, leading figures). Throughout Untether, the author examines both societal and individual forms of suffering (e.g. depression, dissociation, and the dangers of socially imposed normativities). My favorite piece is “Skin Like Honey and Lace,” which depicts a group of women who achieve social induction by taking skin from strangers and applying it to their own bodies. A staggeringly accomplished collection. 

As a young kid reading Dickens for the first time I was mesmerised by this journey into the underworld of Victorian London. I would go on my own imaginary adventures with the Artful Dodger and his gang of thieving street urchins. Years later, when writing my own book about modern street gang members I had the same sense of going on a thrilling journey of discovery and escapades.

I saw this in a charity shop. My partner and I had been watching a number of Dickens adaptions, and my interest was piqued. Then I put it back, uncertain. Then I picked it up again because I realised I did want to know more about Charles Dickens. 

But the book turned out to be about much more than that cherished author; it’s about the relationship between personal psychological pain and the brilliance of creativity. It theorises that, without his anguished childhood, Dickens would not have been so brilliant an author. This book speaks to everyone who wishes to tell tales, me included.

What do the writers you are drawn to reveal about you? Why at certain points in our lives do we become “attached” to certain authors? The process of attachment is mysterious. As we age (and change) some things remain constant. Our attachment to a particular author may have begun in our youth, but evolved as we have. To reconnect with a favorite author can put us in touch with our younger self in unexpected ways. Mead shows how much Middlemarch has “spoken” to her throughout her life. This book is perhaps more in harmony with my own than any on the list. I have come to love books that underscore how what we read can be inseparable from the person we become.

Agnes maintains such a gentle strength throughout this novel that it’s hard not to fall in love with her.

She goes through the stresses and trials of being the governess to absolute chaos demons and maintains her morality throughout (where a lesser human would have crumbled). She is kind and honest, and through her interactions with others, Bronte is able to explore a number of different hard-hitting aspects of the human condition.

Be it the contrast between a priest who does more harm than good for the sake of his own vanity and a priest who heals through compassion and decency, or her exploration of the different ways jealousy presents itself in friendships. 

Victorian thieves, forbidden romance, a Gothic mansion, a character known only as “the Gentleman” – yes, please.

I read all of Sarah Waters’ novels in a month or two during the 2016 election runup, and they’re all fantastic, but this one has a particularly high degree of muchness, which I love in a book. It was the basis of a fantastic miniseries, which transported the plot from Victorian England to Japanese-occupied Korea. 

The year is 1837 and Liberty is a fiercely independent young woman. The story begins with her crossing the Channel to find her father, only to discover that he had recently been killed in a duel. In the course of investigating what had happened, she comes upon a plot that involves treason, with the potential to spark another civil war.

What I love about Peacock’s work is her use of imagery in echoing a character’s psyche or situation. Horse lovers will enjoy Liberty’s relationship with her horse and her growing friendship with her good-hearted stable hand. I have not yet put my finger on it, but for some reason, I feel a hint of Edgar Allen Poe when I read her books.

The Pre-Raphaelites were not just limited to the Victorian era, and this is a brilliant exhibition catalogue that explores how we are still loving the Pre-Raphaelites today in programmes like Game of Thrones and movies like The Lord of the Rings. It also reveals the way the 1960s responded to deeply unfashionable Pre-Raphaelite art and how important women were to the Pre-Raphaelites past and present.

I love this novel so much that I named my son Phineas in homage.

Anthony Trollope might seem the ur-English novelist because of his much-loved series of Barhhester novels set among clerics in a provincial town, but he spent much of his working life in Ireland and wrote passionately about the country in many of his books.

Phineas Finn is a kind of alter ego, a young Irishman equipped with charm, good looks, and very little money. He becomes a Member of Parliament and sets out to find his way through the challenges and dilemmas of high society in Victorian London. His moral compass sometimes goes slightly awry, but it generally comes right in the end.

Trollope’s psychological subtlety draws out the ambiguities and prejudices that Phineas encounters and reminds us of the central part played by Ireland in the British Empire. He died long before Ireland’s separation from Britain,… show more.

This book is about the art of war, the artistry of war, and the thinking behind war. In The Best And The Brightest David Halberstam documents how the people running the Vietnam War had no grasp of what war was. And, they were going up against Ho Chi Minh who translated this book from Chinese to Vietnamese and ingrained the concepts into his soldiers. 

The Americans had all the technology and industry that was possible during this era. They had machine guns, bombs, aircraft, and helicopters. They were building ports, warehouses, flying over ping pong tables, ice-cold Coca Cola machines, whatever they wanted. And, nobody was thinking about war. They were thinking logically and that all these mechanical things were going to win the war. On the other side, the Vietnamese had this book. They studied this book and they lived this book. I was interviewing a 67-year-old member of… show more.