100 books like Foucault's Pendulum

This is Agatha Christie's creepiest novel. A love story between a chauffeur and an heiress, who move to a majestic house in the countryside and find themselves the victims of a local curse. Strange things start to happen. But is any of it real? The shocking truth doesn't become clear until the last few pages.

This is Auster exploring all the themes he’s well known for now, and crafting them into a beautifully absurd almost surreal tale. Not strictly a noir book this has a protagonist struggling with his place in the world and his identity, whilst getting drawn into situations out of their control—all tropes which are seminal to the genre. 

Auster’s first book released under the pseudonym Paul Benjamin, called Squeeze Play, is a more typical crime, or pulp noir. And it's easy to see his blend into literary fiction whilst holding the noir handles close for The Music of Chance.

Often writers start out literary then a genre attaches itself. Here, Auster appears to have hit big by penning a commercially aimed work, then shifting back to where his core themes ring out.

I’m a huge fan of these themes he’s so good at; stories within stories, back-tales of characters,… show more.

A short, mind-bending novel about a young woman writing a story who starts to encounter incidents from her story in real life. This book is a delight. From that intriguing opening, it evolves into a tale of sadness and isolation, set against the backdrop of a fading British seaside town.

A history of the early 1960s in America, leading up to the assassination of JFK, seen through the eyes of the mobsters and criminals, crooked cops, spies, and sleazos who power the machines of history.

A comprehensive romp through the underbelly of American crime and politics (and you might, after reading this book, wonder what’s the difference), it’s a novel about characters you don’t like—but they’re vivid and fascinating.

Much more than a gritty gangster novel, it’s a tale about the people in history’s shadows, and, ultimately, history and the “never innocent” America itself. 


No Dark Academia list would be complete without The Secret History—Donna Tartt’s 1992-debut (!) has come to define the genre.

Among the many things I love about this novel are that it’s a mystery told in reverse, and a meditation on toxic friendships between students at a top-tier institution, which explores the darker corners of the human psyche contained within classical texts.

It’s a book I come back to again and again, and Tartt’s effortless style has influenced my own writing. There’s an intimacy here, and readers will feel as if they, too, are starting their campus journey together with newcomer Richard Papen, at a college based on Tartt’s own alma mater, Bennington.

This tightly-plotted murder mystery takes place in one of the most compelling imagined settings I’ve ever encountered: a double city somewhere in the Balkans where the inhabitants of each half are required by law not to see the inhabitants of the other half.

Equal parts Kafka and Philip K Dick, Miéville’s The City and the City offers a thought-provoking meditation on the haves and have-nots, as well as life in the Balkanized cities of the world, those “double places” where one-half of the population conspires not to notice the other half.

Set in during the Forth Crusade, Baudolino is another book by Umberto Eco I have read numerous times and, as with Foucault’s Pendulum, throws up the idea that, if the world isn’t as we would like it to be (the great enigma of should and is), is there an imperative for someone of influence to create the illusion, engineer a fantasy, bring forth a false reality… all to satisfy their need to mould existence to their own world view.

In Baudolino’s case, his self-delusions really do create his reality, as his quest to find truth in his religious devotions unfolds exactly to his perceptions.

Another fun bit of psychedelic folk horror, combined with a really cool history of the experimental films of Canada.

The narrator is compelling, and the whole time you feel the pull of her obsession to the film she’s looking into, even if it unsettles her and terrifies her at the same time. Love that pull of danger, wanting to look, to see, but knowing that doing so will probably kill you…

It's like horror novel catnip.

Superficially, The Minnesota Trilogy is a murder mystery. When two Norwegian tourists are slaughtered in a national forest, it seems like an open and shut case. All the evidence points in one direction, but park ranger Lance Hansen is not convinced. He suspects his own brother. Hansen’s amateur investigation accidentally uncovers a second mystery involving his ancestor and the death (murder?) of a nineteenth-century Ojibwe medicine man. Sundstøl’s depiction of contemporary rural Minnesota is as full of magic, menace, and intrigue as the best fantasy world-building. The American Midwest becomes a land of prophetic dreams and roaming ghosts. The clash of cultures is less political than mythic, and the stakes are spiritual. History is still happening. Family is deeper than blood. These books open my imagination and tear my heart in half.

I love the Jimmy Paz novels. I wish there were more of them. Gruber’s are the most conventional crime plots on my list—tightly-crafted, intricate, and intelligent. His detective is the archetypal hero: smart, resourceful, big-hearted, brave. But in this world, science and rational deduction are insufficient to solve the crime because reality is not just unknown. It is unknowable. This is the cardinal sin of the detective genre. Even worse, Gruber completely gets away with it. With forays into Siberian Shamanism and Santeria, Tropic of Night is as much an investigation of consciousness and perception as it is the hunt for a murderous warlock. When the orishas finally arrive for the climax, my hands trembled. I got some small inkling of what it means for the fear of god to be the beginning of wisdom.