100 books like The Pornographer

Discovering Joyce in my youth was a revelation. In this fictionalised autobiography, Joyce rejects Yeats’s Irish folk models, seeking to emancipate the individual from the nets of family, religion, and nationality.

Whereas the early Yeats romanticises the idea of blood sacrifice for Mother Ireland, Joyce has his hero, Stephen Dedalus, declare Ireland is the old sow that devours her own farrow. Stephen flees Dublin for Europe, choosing the vocation of the cosmopolitan artist who, from exile, will liberate his benighted nation.

Like Yeats, Joyce remains obsessed with Ireland and the tension between the national and the universal. 

I was engrossed by this beautifully written book about the way that things that happened in a previous generation can affect one’s happiness without one even knowing about them.

I totally identified with protagonist Veronica as she looks for clues as to why her brother committed suicide by imagining scenes from her parents’ past.

When I registered the subtle moment that was crucial to it all, everything fell into stark and terrible place, and it took my breath away. Both witty and sad, the book left a deep impression on me.

A non-fiction recommendation this time, and a recent release.

Hennigan’s essay collection is a beautifully written account of the final years, and opaque recollections, of her grandmother Phil, who spent much of her life in various psychiatric institutions.

I have been interested in this theme for years – Ireland, in the first decades after independence from Britain, has some of the highest rates of citizen incarceration in the world: prisons, borstals, orphanages, magdalen laundries, and psychiatric hospitals both provided employment and regulation and also kept a whole population of ‘problem’ people out of sight).

This fact, and its repercussions in culture today, fascinate me, and Hennigan’s gentle and loving consideration of Phil’s trauma, loneliness, mania, and the maternal lineage it involves (her own mother was institutionalized) is also an angry illustration of just how badly women and the working class have been treated here.

A post-Donna Tart’s Secret History-esque tale of literary mystics who make up a secret society at Trinity College Dublin which tends, unfairly, to get left behind in analyses of Irish ‘Celtic Tiger’ fiction.

This is fiction from or dealing with the abrupt and accelerated modernity that hit Ireland like a cultural torpedo in the early 2000s, and quite a lot of it fails to capture the discombobulation of living through that time.

The First Verse is a campus novel about sexy secretive students and shady deeds which also plots a queer geography of Dublin’s gay scene as well as illustrating the emotional tension that exists in Dublin between city centre and its polarised northern and southern suburbs.

Dublin is such a mannered city, caught in Georgian poses while falling apart as postmodernity obliterates its value system, that it surprises me there aren’t more Dublin novels about baroque subcultures. McCrea is… show more.

I have a soft spot for women during times of war or adversity. This story spans the early years of the 1900s as Maggie lives her father’s legacy to “make a difference in the world.” She never gives in, or gives up, and contributes to the safety of those around her during the end of the Great War and troubles in Ireland. Setting is a big thing for me, and in this book the location, the surroundings, and the times evoked an understanding of Ireland and the Irish. As with the fictional characters I like most, Maggie is a person I’d love to have as a friend.

It may not be fantasy, but Anne McCaffrey is well known for her Dragonriders of Pern series, among other books (like The Ship who Sang with Mercedes Lackey). Take one English countryside farm, mix in a headstrong girl who wants to ride champion hunters and jumpers, a bit of romance, and fine horses, and you have a tale that demands to be on the screen. 

Long before traveling to Ireland, I wanted to learn all I could about those who live there. 

I have found that the best way to achieve that goal is to read historical fiction novels that present an incisive portrait of the Irish people—their often-tragic history, rich culture, traditions, and day-to-day living. The human stories bring the book to life, involving you directly in the characters’ lives. Trinity made me feel that I was living in the past, experiencing history firsthand.

I loved this book. It wasn’t just a romance. It was a love story for a place.

An ode to an age when women begin to learn their power. It was a love story about friends who become family and the people who touch us along the way.

I closed this book feeling so many emotions and have recommended it repeatedly to anyone who needs to lose themselves in a book. 

This marvelous novel allowed me to travel to the remote southwest coast of Ireland, on the Beara peninsula.

The landscape is so evocatively and vividly described that I felt as if I were hiking along with the appealing protagonist, Annie Crowe. Like me, Annie turns to walking and nature when she is depressed or needs thinking time, and boy does Annie have demons to battle! She’s a great character - both tough and fragile, a recovering alcoholic. 

On a job assignment as a public relations expert in support of a copper mine, she finds herself thrust into controversy with the local community. It opposes the mine because it would despoil this wild landscape and also endanger the nesting Red-billed Chough. I loved every detail of the walks and the cliffs and the ocean that Johnson describes.

And running throughout is a spicy thread of ancient mythology and Gaelic mysticism, which… show more.

Jen Turano is the queen of quirky characters. This book had me giggling and guffawing with all its crazy shenanigans. Who knew an oversized bustle could double as a floatation device? Daphne Beekman is a successful author who pens thrilling mysteries yet swoons at the first sign of danger in real life. As a consultant for an all-female inquiry agency, she puts her intelligence and creative mind to work solving crimes. But when the reclusive author, and incredibly handsome, Herman Henderson hires the agency, Daphne determines to take a more active role. Outlandish disguises, daring adventure, and bookish banter ensue as Daphne and Herman solve the greatest mystery of all—love.