100 books like The Opera House Murders

Edogawa Rampo is the father of Japanese detective fiction, and this macabre short story collection is a perfect introduction to his work. While not detective stories per se (he’s written some that are), these stories showcase a series of works that are fascinating, varied, dark, and very fun to read. 

Borrowing from elements from Western Silver Age detective fiction but adding elements of the grotesque and twisted, he is very distinct from all the Western mystery fiction I’ve read from a similar era. Since detective fiction formally started with Edgar Allen Poe and his C. Auguste Dupin in macabre stories, this seems a throwback to that storied history for me.

I like macabre mysteries with compelling hooks and clever resolutions that blow my mind, and this book does exactly that. Japan has a long tradition of writing “fair play” mysteries, which they call honkaku novels. These borrow from the Golden Age of Detective Fiction in the vein of Agatha Christie but certainly are their own category. 

These novels are like puzzles, focusing on the rules of fair play by giving readers all they need to figure out the mystery. This story was my first honkaku story and is only the length of a novella (like many honkaku novels), and it’s also rather dark, which I enjoy since I like horror as much as mystery.

This is a fair-play honkaku novel that involves a twist with the supernatural—in this case, zombies. In Japan or otherwise, most detective fiction tends to avoid the supernatural. Still, zombies actually do behave predictably, so they can be used in the way a murder weapon can. 

Again, you can also solve this mystery before the “detective reveal,” which I didn’t manage to do, but the solution also involves some clever tricks. My reason for recommending this is the use of zombies (to besiege a manor where the characters are holed up), giving this detective story a fresh and unique flavor I haven’t seen before.

The Case Closed manga series, which is called Detective Conan in Japan, is possibly the longest-running murder mystery series in the world. It has over 1,000 chapters, all short murder mysteries lasting 2-5 chapters. While they’re not honkaku mysteries with fair play that the reader can solve, they are interesting and creative. 

The art style can appear quite “kiddie,” but don’t be fooled—murder mystery fans can find plenty to enjoy here, as it’s clear that the creator is very widely read in detective fiction. It also involves a teenage sleuth shrunk to the size of a small child by a mysterious drug, so while the characters remain static, it has some background intrigue, too.

A homeless high school girl is taken in by a mysterious family, whose members are possessed by the 13 animals of the Zodiac. As she lives with the family, she slowly uncovers hidden wounds, which she heals with her generous spirit. Eventually, she falls in love with one of the two brothers her age, but which one will it be? Usually, with love triangles like this, I can figure out almost immediately who will end up together, but this one took me a while, which made the story all the more interesting.  

Akira is a must-read manga masterpiece, a deep analysis of government corruption, political upheaval, criminality, and decay of society. Apart from the breathtaking art, what caught my attention was the complex story and the nihilistic, harsh, and hopeless world Akira shows. There are virtually no good characters in this story and it fits the apocalyptic, decadent reality they face and live. Expect a lot of psychic abilities and motorcycles, along with gritty, graphic violence.

This book is so much more than a police procedural set in the South with a Black female detective as its protagonist. Snowden writes Southern Gothic stories with all the wonderful emotional obsessions and foreboding suspense that anchor that genre. As the child of a serial killer, Detective Raven Burns witnessed many of her father’s deadly attacks, including the murder of Raven’s mother. Haunted by her past, Raven struggles with both real life and personal demons to secure justice for victims in the present.

This book is full of rule-breakers, but not in the way you’d think. Rhea and her friends try to combat gentrification in their South L.A. neighborhood in the most unconventional way imaginable by inventing a fake gang; however, they are soon blamed for a very real murder.

I lived in West Baltimore for a time and saw the effects of gentrification taking over my neighborhood even in the short two years that I was there, so this book really resonated with me on a personal level. The premise reminded me of those memes of people claiming to shoot out the windows every few months to keep the rent low. While it’s a joke, there is a very real fear behind it, and this is a complex issue that Adia tackles with such a fresh voice and nuanced approach.

The Pigman was the first YA novel I ever read that’s told in two separate voices. Each chapter alternates between two high school sophomores: John Conlan and Lorraine Jenson. The two meet Angelo Pignati, a lonely widower, due to making a random prank phone call asking for a monetary donation to the “L. and J. Fund.” John and Lorraine nickname Mr. Pignati the “Pigman” because of his deceased wife’s collection of ceramic pigs. Their prank call soon leads to friendship, which horrifically ends in tragedy inadvertently caused by John and Lorraine, thus inspiring both to choose to deal with their grief by writing “a memorial epic” of their friend.

I love the writing style of alternating two character voices, which inspired me to write my own first novel in two voices. The dialogue in The Pigman is filled with dark humor and sarcasm, which for me, brings even more shock… show more.

Full disclosure: Mariko’s cousin, Gillian, attended my old high school, and part of the appeal of this book for me initially was the fact that I recognised so many details from that world. Kimberley “Skim” Cameron is a would-be Wiccan goth attending an all-girls private school that’s gone into high-gear mourning over the death of the boyfriend of one of its students. It’s poignant and perceptive and darkly funny, if somewhat angst-heavy. This was one of my earliest introductions to graphic novels and what the form can uniquely offer.