9 books like Tales of Mystery and Imagination

I can’t get enough of this supernatural classic, which is made all the more vivid by the way its story unfolds through letters, telegrams, diary entries, and newspaper clippings. It is the found-footage horror story of its era.

Like Frankenstein, it has been adapted hundreds of times, officially and unofficially, into nearly every medium, yet the original novel is unparalleled for holding the reader in its icy grip. Stoker brought his own fears to the page, and I am always surprised at how, in just a few pages, they become my fears, as well.

While I am a tremendous fan of Daphne DuMaurier’s uncanny short stories, in particular, The Birds and Don’t Look Now, I reserve my greatest love and admiration for her modern Gothic masterpiece Rebecca.

While Alfred Hitchcock’s film version is justifiably a classic, it cannot capture the richness of DuMaurier’s prose nor the powerful first-person perspective of the narrator, the unnamed newlywed of a wealthy widower who finds herself cursed to always be in the shadow of his first wife, the eponymous Rebecca. It also can’t quite evoke the oppressive atmosphere of Manderley, silent and secretive, ancient and beautiful, the gilded cage of a mansion ruled over by a domineering housekeeper, the unforgettable Mrs. Danvers. 

I have been a fan of Gothic and melodrama since I first watched the 1931 film Frankenstein with Boris Karloff–and I was delighted to discover that the book is even better and so much more than what we’ve ever seen on screen.

Frankenstein’s monster is articulate and soulful in Mary Shelley’s atmospheric, dread-filled original novel, and his plight is all the more moving because of it. She wrote it when she was just 18 years old, still grieving over the death of her first child two years earlier. I feel her aching sorrow on every page. 

The novel’s prose is breathtaking. Jackson tells us from the start that Hill House is not sane and that sets the tone for the unraveling of the other characters’ minds.

For me, one of the best things about the novel is that it gives the reader space to create their own horrors. Nothing is explicitly stated and that makes it all the more frightening. Add to that an unreliable narrator and this novel captured my mind from the moment I read it. 

Sometimes, you have to get your horror in small bites. When I have a limited amount of time to read (like waiting in an airport), I go straight to the original horror master, Edgar Allan Poe. No one else compresses so many terrifying emotions into so few pages. Fear, dread, loathing, anxiety, unease, and panic are something I expect–and am rewarded with–every time I read Poe.

I started reading his work in grade school, and when I found this collection in college, it became one of my prized possessions. There’s a familiarity in Poe’s tales that I have with very few other authors. I still keep this on my bookshelf for short reads like Tell-Tale Heart, The Black Cat, and The Pit And The Pendulum.

Whenever I hear or read almost any of Poe's stories, his mastery of musicality and rhythm never fails to mesmerize and delight. 

His poems and prose capture the human psyche so acutely and meld genres so astutely. In editing my father's work and in my own writing, I've made a conscious effort to not confine storylines to one genre, mood or feeling. Doing so requires finesse with narrative tension, a skill Poe perfected.

Revisit some of his masterpieces in this collection, perhaps paired with something lighter to counterbalance his darkness.

This book has a special place in my heart because the author was recommended to me by my son, also a confirmed fan of horror and the supernatural. Growing up in Japan, like most school children, he had read some of Edogawa Rampo’s many books of child detectives before graduating to his much darker adult stories of horror. While my son had read the original Japanese, at that time Japanese Tales of Mystery and Imagination was the only volume of English translations of Edogawa Rampo’s stories that I could find. It is, however, a masterly introduction to the dark, and at times perverse, world of the author. Whereas Edgar Allan Poe, from whom the writer Hirai Tarō derived the pen name, had fueled my teenage fancy for shadow-filled gothic tales, Edogawa Rampo made me view my adopted homeland with a more wary eye.

I know, this is a short story and hence cheating, but how can you make lists of detective stories without including the granddaddy of them all? Poe’s short story preceded Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes by four decades and has all the main ingredients. You have an ice-cold supremely rational detective, C. Auguste Dupin. You have a loyal sidekick. You have a bumbling cop. You have two extremely gory murders. You have a locked room. You have conflicting witnesses. You have a bizarre conclusion. You know what? Don’t read my No. 1. Read the Master first.

Similar to my second choice, this American study explores the impact of a sensational unsolved death on early Victorian New York and America in general. In 1841 Marie Rogers, an attractive young woman who worked in a tobacco shop, was found dead in the Hudson River, suspected to be a victim of murder. The case was well covered in the press and exposed weaknesses in the city’s system of policing.  The author details how Edgar Allen Poe furthered early detective fiction in his story The Mystery Marie Roger, which although set in Paris borrowed heavily from the New York events. An example of how the public can make a celebrity out of a murder victim who is not from the elite.