The best books that explore our fascination with ghosts, hauntings, and the afterlife

I’ve been enamored with the history of spiritualism and supernatural flimflam for years, but this book was the first account I read by an insider. Keene’s explanations of how phony mediums operate are fascinating, as are his incisive musings on the nature of belief.

But I found Keene himself the most intriguing aspect of the book. I got the impression of a bright, insightful, and deeply conflicted man—in some ways, as much of an elusive trickster as ever. His descriptions of his antics as a spiritualist charlatan are bombastic and glib, but there’s an underlying poignancy.

I was left with a clearer picture of how the spiritualist con game worked but more questions than answers about Keene and his motives for leaving it behind. 

This is the book that started my love affair with spiritualism. Mary Roach’s accessible and often hilarious approach to science writing made a huge impression on me when I first picked it up in my early 20s.

The personal and adventurous nature of her investigations also intrigued me, earning Roach a spot high on my list of people I want to be when I grow up and cementing her place as one of my few auto-buy authors.

The wide, weird array of research she presents in her book—and her open-minded take on it all—left me with a burning desire to learn more (and a tiny, nagging scrap of hope that just maybe there could be such a thing as ghosts). 

I read this book not long after reading Spook, and it scratched many of the same philosophical itches for me. I love its dreamlike quality and haunting sense of nostalgia. As far as I know, it's also unlike any other work of fiction in its approach to the question of life after death.

It blends two seemingly unrelated topics—historical disasters (e.g., the Hartford circus fire, the sinking of the Titanic)—and the science of near-death experiences in a striking, unique way. Although it is, in many ways, a deeply sad story, it ultimately feels hopeful. This is one of those novels that left a lasting impact on my psyche.   

This book profoundly appeals to the history nerd in me. It places the American Spiritualist movement in its historical and cultural context, examining everything from the connection between spiritualism and 19th-century technological innovations to the role of gender and sexuality in the séance room.

While it’s easy to dismiss spiritualism as a fringe oddity, McGarry’s book illuminates just how vital it was in shaping American culture and politics as we know them today. The academic language is a little dense in places, but that did not detract from my enjoyment of the meticulous scholarship and the enthralling subject matter. 

I love weird and inexplicable things, and Gef's story is undoubtedly the weirdest tale of a real-life (ostensibly) paranormal phenomenon I have ever encountered.

The more you know about it, the weirder it gets, and Christopher Josiffe’s meticulously researched account really delivers. Gef’s story isn’t exactly about ghosts, per se—it’s not clear where the Extra Special Talking Mongoose came from or what he was supposed to be—but it fits nicely with my interest in the uncanny.

In true Fortean fashion, Josiffe lays out all the evidence for what happened with minimal attempts at interpretation, leaving the reader to puzzle it all out. And the final chapters, which cover similar “hauntings” and potentially relevant folklore, are worth the price of admission alone.