100 books like The Golden One

Lehane, one of my favourite authors, introduces the crime writer’s device of the duo, in his first Kenzie and Gennaro novel. For me, as in my own DCI Steel novels, the duo in writing can work to inform, or mislead, the reader and, if handled well, the reader doesn’t notice, seeing the interaction between characters as normal. Clichés abound in crime fiction, especially in lead characters, but Lehane avoids this with P.I. Patrick Kenzie, and his lifelong friend, Angie Gennaro. Given the area they inhabit, with its racial and gang tensions, added to the clients they have, clichés would seem unavoidable, but—once again—the lesson here is to write multi-faceted characters, which Kenzie and Gennaro emphatically are. They are flawed, but in Lehane’s hands, triumphantly human, and very believable.

I have never been to London, but Christopher Fowler makes me want to book a plane ticket. His immense collection of mysteries (18 so far) features adorable curmudgeon Arthur Bryant and his partner, John May, an elderly Lothario. These quirky detectives are the heartbeat of the even quirkier Peculiar Crimes Unit (yes, that’s its real name). I am a big fan of teams in mystery solving—not just because they all help out solving the puzzle but because of the emotions and relationships that become entangled among team members. Fowler delivers fascinating British history, smart humor, and delightful writing. Guilty secret: I would love to reach into Arthur Bryant’s big old coat pockets; they always contain the most outlandish things (many essential to solving the crime, of course).

The effect of Scandinavian crime writing has been far-reaching and, to my mind, one aspect that has helped its growth has been the addition of psychological aspects in the characters and—in a very particular sense—the response to this from the reader. I feel I’ve learned more of this deeper level from the writings of Adler-Olsen, particularly his Department Q novels with their lead, Detective Carl Mørck (a deeply flawed man, although written without a cliché in sight). Adler-Olsen has said the reader must have the opportunity to create their own images from his not-very detailed descriptions, which he calls the “missing voice”, and his light, but masterful creation of Carl Mørck succeeds in this, making the Department Q novels a ‘must’ for any reader.

Estelle Ryan writes mysteries set in France with a most unusual sleuth: autistic insurance investigator Dr. Genevieve Lenard. I am fascinated by how Lenard, a world-renowned expert on nonverbal communication, navigates both her personal and professional lives as she tracks down art thieves. She is a human lie detector who can’t bear to be touched and who, when upset, goes into autistic meltdowns in which she writes classical music in her head. I go to Ryan’s website to see the artwork and listen to the music featured in each book. Lenard also has a quirky team of sidekicks that I adore and that bring humanity to Lenard’s sheltered life: a former art thief, a hacker, a cop, and a tough guy.

Is there a better book title than The Last Camel Died at Noon? When I saw this book in the bookstore, I bought it instantly. What curious mind wouldn’t? I had to know the who, what, where, when, and why of this story. And to my delight, it was set in the early twentieth century in one of my favorite, exotic countries, Egypt. Archeologist couple Amelia Peabody and husband Radcliffe Emerson, are Nick and Nora Charles, Mary Russell and Sherlock Holmes, and Tommy and Tuppence Beresford all rolled into one. The Last Camel is the sixth book in Elizabeth Peter’s humorous, mystery series. I’ve read them all many times over. I recommended starting with the first book, Crocodile on the Sandbank. 

Amelia Peabody, the heroine of this series, is that rarity, a female archeologist elbowing her way into digs and expeditions, the domain of men in 1890s Egypt. Amelia fearlessly deals with master criminals and tomb robbers, using a stout belt and large umbrella, solving crimes with panache.

In this book, the first of the series, she rescues a damsel in distress, falls in love, and uncovers the secret of a walking mummy.

It’s a rollicking romp of a read but doesn’t shy away from showing the divisions of the times between Europeans and ‘natives,’ men and women, rich and poor. The author is an Egyptologist herself, and her expertise shows through; as an academic myself, I’m very inspired by her work! This is one of my absolute favourites.

In the 1860s, the ailing Lady Duff Gordon is advised by doctors to seek warmer climes if she is to recover from an advanced case of tuberculous. She travels to Egypt and embarks from Cairo by sailing a boat up the Nile and deep into Nubia. Along the way she comments on encounters with people of all classes and occupations that she meets. The book stands in stark contrast to the largely unsympathetic picture of the Egyptian peasantry by other British writers of the time. Her sympathetic portrayal includes seeing the importance of Islam and deploring foreign efforts to convert the population to Christianity. Her depictions show that even during this early period certain basic values existed that in a general way still guide behavior today in Egypt.   

This book is a novel written by an Egyptian activist, Omar Hamilton, who lived through the 2011 period. The fiction approach gives the author greater freedom to explore the inner lives of the Tahrir Square activists who he knew well and the momentous events in Cairo. The non-factual approach of a novel offers something missing even in the best journalism because the author brings to life the motivations and personalities involved in the leftist movements which overthrew the Mubarak regime. His first-hand experience of the time fuels the narrative as these revolutionaries faced the failure of the uprising in the long term. The book explores these harsh realities of politics through well-developed characters and expressionistic writing that brings to life this time in Egypt.

You don’t often find novels in which an Egyptian and an Israeli work compatibly together, but Sussman’s series featuring two detectives—one from Luxor and the other from Jerusalem—does just that. Teaming up to solve the murder of a journalist, they pursue the case to the site of a gargantuan treasure long buried in the sands of the Western desert. Having lived in Egypt, I would have read The Labyrinth of Osiris if only for the setting, but found it to be a beguiling mystery, with unusual, sympathetic sleuths, an unmatched setting, and, best of all, treasure.

The book gives the reader a deep layered understanding of Egypt before the 2011 uprising to look at the state of the nation and into the heart of Cairo, an ancient city but now a metropolis of over 20 million. Written with a novelist's flare this is an intimate portrait of the lives of Cairenes that explores hidden aspects of this mysterious city. The author builds an intriguing story on the religious beliefs, family values, negotiating tactics, driving habits, and attitudes towards foreigners. This is a reflection on a wonderous city, a place of sadness and of hope, which uses the metaphor of Saharan desert sand blowing in to shape the sand castle politics of the Mubarak era that would come crashing down in the 2011 Revolution.