The best books with a unique spin on Edgar Allan Poe & the gothic ghost story

I love books that engage in a literary conversation with writers from a previous era, and Mat Johnson’s novel does just that—it’s both a homage and a critique of Edgar Allan Poe’s sole novel, The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym, itself a hodgepodge of gothic elements and maritime adventure. It’s also horrifyingly racist with its depictions of black-skinned islanders.

Johnson inverts and reframes these uncomfortable racial dynamics to glorious effect. It is both a raucous satire and full-throttle adventure story, as Johnson’s hero, Chris Jaynes, leads an all-black crew to the South Pole—into the center of whiteness—to discover what may be on the last bastion of the African Diaspora. From there, it only gets weirder and funnier.

I believe Edgar Allan Poe’s stories are ripe for retelling. Poe was constrained by his own aesthetics (he was not fond of longer works), so his short fiction always hinted at larger worlds just beyond the page.

T. Kingfisher gives us one such world behind The Fall of the House of Usher and fills out the story of haunted siblings Roderick and Madeline Usher. I love that Kingfisher, like Poe, knows the names of flowers and fauna, and her book is saturated with trees, flowers, rabbits, and, oh yes, mushrooms. I hunt for mushrooms myself, so I loved this particular element.

The voice of this novel is also key to its success, so I recommend the audiobook as well. It’s a bit campier with the accents, but it adds to the fun.

Ghosts are my some of my favorite creatures in horror since, unlike werewolves and vampires, I believe they tap into a shared emotional landscape. Who has not wanted to speak to the spirit of a recently deceased loved one? Who has not stood over a grave and demanded answers? Farrenkopf takes this desire and builds a whole mythology around it while adding to the mix another irresistible question:

What if you could speak to your dead relatives and find out how you are going to die? Would you want to know?

Dave Gallagher, a cemetery caretaker, wrestles with this quandary, which gives the book its tension and grit. No easy answers are given here. Farrenkopf creates a world that is both fantastical and grounded in human longing. 

Forget all those self-help tomes and Cosmo articles—this is the book that will improve your relationships.

It may seem deranged to admit loving a book, which is, arguably, one of the coldest I’ve ever read, but this slim 128-page exercise in pitiless dread made me a better person. After reading it one afternoon, I emerged shaken and disturbed. Ever since then, I have tried never to argue with my spouse on long road trips. Or argue, period. I’m not kidding.

There is a connection to major Poe themes here, but I will leave that a mystery. As the title implies, a vanishing occurs, and the novel is about the void that opens up afterward. Damn, just writing that sentence has me shaking. Go hug your loved ones. 

I love it when a story taps into my dream life when the author imagines a landscape that tickles my subconscious. Since the experience is so deeply personal, it obviously cannot be planned or market-tested, which makes it all the more thrilling when it happens.

That was my experience reading this book. As a boy, I often dreamed about my small town turning into a neighborhood full of ghosts overnight (Don’t ask me why. I was a strange child). This happens to be the exact premise of Velkwood. In Kiste’s narrative, a living woman must enter this literal ghost town at her own peril to uncover the secret behind a family tragedy, and the results are both philosophical and beautiful.