65 books like All of a Winter's Night

I highly recommend every mystery Sayers has written. She’s my kind of author — articulate, inspiring, a writer who writes about her surroundings with a realism that allows a reader to enter and learn more: In this book, death by the ringing of church bells in a small English village.

She’s complex but delivers layers of life and death with profound simplicity and understanding. The daughter of a minister, an advertising copywriter, a poet, she graduated from Oxford and used her life experiences to color every page she wrote.

I love her spunk and the exciting way she has written. But mostly, I love her monocled amateur sleuth, Lord Peter Whimsey who exploded on her typewriter in her first mystery.

From the very beginning of her writing career, I’ve loved the novels of P.D. James. Her clear-eyed understanding of the human condition, and the precision of her writing, have always set her a bit apart from other writers in the genre, but this novel blew me away. As she explores the death of two men in the crypt of a London church—one a prominent member of Parliament, the other a homeless vagrant—she transcends genre altogether and creates a work of such depth and complexity that it resonates with me still, many years later. She wrote some fine books both before and after, but this will always be for me the high water mark of one of my all-time favourite writers—and role models.

This trilogy of novels is altogether darker than Sayers, as Andrew Taylor tackles nothing less ambitious than ‘the making of a murderer,’ as well as the history of the Church of England in the twentieth century. If the latter sounds dull, it’s not! Figuratively looking through the wrong end of a telescope, he peels away the layers of the story as he goes backward in time in the cathedral city of Rosington, from the wrenching kidnapping of the daughter of a woman priest, to the events in the far past which culminated in tragedy. Like Dorothy Sayers, though, Andrew Taylor grew up as the child of an Anglican clergyman, so there is real authenticity here, as well as fine writing and a gift for creating suspense.

Flavia de Luce is surely one of the most original—and the most delightful—detective characters ever written. The precocious eleven-year-old lives in a crumbling manor house in the English countryside, with her vague father, beastly older sisters, and faithful retainer Dogger. Her interest in chemistry—and death—tend her get her into trouble on a regular basis. In this book, Flavia is on the scene when the body of the church organist turns up in the medieval tomb of St Tancred, the parish church’s patron saint. Predictably, she sets out to solve the murder, tearing about the village on her faithful bicycle Gladys. Alan Bradley evokes a world—rural England in the 1950s—that many of us would love to return to (in spite of the murders!) and has created an unforgettable heroine. If you enjoy mysteries that make you smile, rather than… show more.

In Midwinter of the Spirit, Rickman’s excellent prose superbly evokes Herefordshire settings as a backdrop to his protagonist’s, (parish priest, rooky exorcist, and single mum Merrily Watkins), foray into a twilight world. Merrily’s character is painted by Rickman as vulnerable but driven, qualities that eventually lead her into mortal danger, with evil pursuing her in the most personal way through her daughter, and also manifesting itself at the heart of the religious establishment that should be her ultimate protector. Midwinter of the Spirit was subsequently made into an excellent TV serial, and the cathedral scenes were coincidentally filmed at Chester Cathedral, which features in my novel (and is where I was standing when the mug shot shown on this page was taken!). 

For a long time, I assumed that I would find these three novellas about churchmen and parishioners in the English countryside of the late 18th and early 19th centuries sleepy and dull. They’re anything but. Eliot depicts the presence of alcoholism, spousal abuse, loneliness, and life-damaging gossip in her fictional communities. But her signature empathy and wit, already on display in this early work, make it invigorating, not a downer.

Catherine Fox is intimately familiar with the nuances of the Church of England. She writes about them with wit and affection, and she’s dependably funny in this tale of a married bishop who doesn’t want to look too closely at why he’s quite so patient with his disaster of a chauffeur. The Lindchester series is ongoing, and I’m one of many followers who read along to share the joys and sorrows of the diverse, expanding, and delightful cast of characters. This is the place to start, though.

The late John Polkinghorne was the leading figure in the modern dialogue between science and religion. He was Professor of Mathematical Physics at Cambridge, a position which he gave up to become a priest in the Church of England. In this startling volume, he discusses all the clauses of the Nicene Creed, thinking through this fundamental statement of Christian belief as a scientist. He persistently asks, ‘What is the evidence that makes you think this might be true?’ and shows that the evidence required to justify classically orthodox Christian belief is there to be had.

Agatha Christie is deservedly the world’s best-selling crime writer, and most of her readers are familiar with Miss Marple and Hercules Poirot, but with this book we have the undiscovered gems of the mysterious Harley Quin and his partner Mr. Satterthwaite. The book is evocative of England in the 1930s. It makes for addictive reading and shows Christie at her very best.

I love George Eliot’s work, and this, her first novel, is my favourite. Adam Bede is a carpenter who’s in love with dairymaid Hetty Sorrell, but their lives are turned upside down when the squire seduces her. Eliot confronts issues of class, illegitimacy, gender power imbalance, and the double standard – it is not the squire who suffers the consequences of the affair. Dinah Morris, the cousin who stands by Hetty in her trouble, is a wonderful character. She’s a Methodist preacher at a time when church authorities insisted women shouldn’t minister – the Methodist Conference banned women preachers in 1803, and the Church of England didn’t ordain women until 1994 when 32 women were ordained at Bristol Cathedral – I was there! So Dinah represents a strong working woman who is making a truly radical stand against a powerful institution.