100 books like The Bedlam Stacks

I love novels that evolve as I read them. I don’t want to feel I know exactly how a book will turn out from the first page. Give me the unknown and the mysterious, a strange setting and an otherworldly tone.

I also love novels with descriptive chapter titles. Piranesi satisfied all those impulses. The story begins by creating a deep, almost mythological atmosphere, which quickly reveals itself to be a mysterious epistolary, perhaps an ancient diary.

The unfolding mystery is intriguing, but the emerging and disturbing relationship between the novel’s two characters is the heart of the book. It drew me in by building a hidden history I could fall into, then slowly layering secrets and discoveries until masterfully revealing a devastating truth.

When I was a child, I was captivated by this 1958 English novel. It’s every bit as good forty years later. 

Tom, a bored boy spending the summer with his aunt and uncle, finds a rambling Victorian garden in the backyard of the house… but the garden is only there at night, gone during the day.

It’s a gripping time-travel story, one that celebrates the garden as a place where a child can stretch both limbs and mind. And through Tom’s friendship with a Victorian girl named Hatty, the novel touches beautifully upon the ache that comes from seeing your friends grow up before you do. 

The novel’s fantastical elements are handled (and, ultimately, explained) in a totally satisfying way. It’s an enchanting read.

I am, to put it lightly, obsessed with the way Octavia Butler revolutionizes the timescape and invites us to speculate about worlds that could be. In this and so many of her books, her vision of Afrofuturism is one that reminds us that our ancestral pasts and our imagined futures are always connected. 

I thought a lot about the future when I wrote my book, and I share Butler’s conviction that there is collective healing and liberation in revisiting and reimagining the past.

I also love that my neighborhood library in Pasadena is the one Octavia Butler used to frequent!

Pullman’s trilogy about parallel worlds gripped me after reading the first novel in the series The Northern Lights. As he has said, that like myself, he is not a scientist, but since childhood he has been an avid reader of popular science and the many good books linked to the subject.

When I discovered that his trilogy, like my own and many others, dealt with the mystery of a parallel universe and another world. I was hooked to find out more. He has two young people, a boy and a girl, and a host of other exciting characters throughout his story. Somewhat like my own stories, except there are two boys and a girl, and each book is a separate adventure.

I’m sure readers of the genre will be delighted with His Dark Materials and the mysterious new world Pullman describes.

I picked up this book because of its gorgeous front cover. Reading the back cover, I was instantly mesmerized. Such ravishing words! And such a strange notion. What would happen if suddenly, mammoth trees shot up and filled every space, splintering and sweeping houses, shops, gas stations, and roads up into their inexorable, growing, entwined branches? Civilization is shattered—electricity, running water, communications, all gone—and in its place is an endless forest. This is a story of apocalypse like no other, lovely and terrible in equal measure. Our extremely reluctant hero, Adrien, must learn to not just survive in the world of the trees, but to find its magic, and to help humanity have a proper place in it. Mythical and deeply philosophical.

In this amazing mystery/whodunit, Sara Collins tells the story of Frannie Langton, a Jamaican woman brought to London by her enslavers in the 1820s.

First and foremost, this book is a great story, with all the joys of fantastic fiction. When Frannie is put on trial for double murder, Collins opens up the complex world of plantation households—in the Caribbean and in London—to her readers. I study the dynamics of empire from a birds-eye view; Collins makes them personal, real, human, and intimate.

At the book’s core is Frannie’s searching, propulsive intellect and desire for human connection within a toxic world she cannot ultimately control. Through Frannie’s eyes the reader learns about the history of science, politics, class, race, and gender, but Collins’s storytelling makes it all utterly engrossing.

I’ve always wanted to go to New Zealand, and I picked this up mostly because of that desire. (Also, TBH, because a reviewer said this was a book people would either be too scared to start or would never put down, and I took that as a challenge.)

Despite these pretty simple reasons for starting—and finishing—the book, The Luminaries has become one of my all-time favorite novels.

Set in the mid-1860s, Catton tells the story of Scotsman Walter Moody. He travels to New Zealand’s southern island and finds himself immediately intertwined in more than one mystery. He serves as the reader’s guide to the numinous web of lies, swindles, murders, and ambitions that surround the town of Hokitika.

Catton weaves the place into a muddy and pungent microcosm of Britain’s global empire. Her characters, especially the suicidal prostitute Anna Wetherell, take the reader into a more diverse, beautiful, and intriguing… show more.

One of the best examples of “history from below” I’ve read.

It tells the well-known story of David Livingstone’s last journey–how after he died in tropical Africa, his servants marched his body across the continent to the port of Dar es Salaam, so that it could be shipped back to England and buried there with appropriate pomp and reverence. This forms the framework for an utterly original novel that presents this epic trek from the perspective of two of Livingstone’s slave servants: his feisty Muslim cook, Halima, who brings her gossipy sardonic perspective to the enterprise, and his devout and pompous body servant Joseph, a Christian determined to do right by his master.

This work sparkles with energy and humor, as well as presenting a fresh perspective on a well-trodden path.

The title is a refrain that rings around the world, as the children in two families, in two settings, plant a tree.

As in my book, time is a driving element here, bringing to light the cumulative effects of planting trees. Those effects, from clean air and soil retention to the bounty of fruit and the blessings of shade, are beautifully realized in the final page that brings it all back to the young characters and by inference, to the reader.

Soon to be a musical, this enchanting story is about an eleven-year-old girl who doesn’t know she can sing until she gets to know an oak tree in her garden, Annie Oakly, who becomes her best friend and is actually a tree spirit. As the story unfolds, and Emma is confronted with family troubles, she learns of her own vital role in saving the trees; Emma must sing! 

I’m recommending this book because of my own love for both trees and music. In fact, I often sing to the redwoods where I live and sometimes imagine they are singing along with their rustling squeaks and creaks. The author tells a story grounded in everyday problems, such as living with a grandmother with dementia, while bringing the fantastical and magical world of nature vividly alive.