The most recommended books about mad scientists

This madcap story involves a militant Christian and a militant atheist who decide to fight to the death over the question of the existence of God. The trouble is that no one in the world will let them do it. When I first read it, much as I enjoyed the two central combatants and their repeatedly baffled zeal, I was even more delighted by the framework of the novel. The Ball and the Cross begins in a spaceship containing a mad scientist named Lucifer and a holy monk named Michael. The theological-cosmological setting seems clear, but this is not a twee presentation of the battle of the angels (cf. Revelation 12:7–10). These two have rich personalities and Michael in particular had a huge impact on me regarding the proper depiction of goodness.

This book, in this day and age, might actually hit a little too close to home, but it is worthy of a read anyway. Delozier writes a thrilling tale about a mad scientist that has created a deadly virus that could wipe out half the population. It's up to psychologist and empath Dr. Persephone Smith to track him down and stop him. Type and Cross, Delozier's debut novel, is a medical thriller that intermixes just enough medical terminology to make the premise sound plausible without losing the reader. Delozier's writing isn't overburdened by over-embellished description or unwieldy dialog which makes the book a pleasure to read.

Unlike your traditional trilogy, the second book in the series acts as an origin story of sorts, while the third wraps up the storyline from this book.

The inspiration for the movie Metropolis, a city is torn between an elite upper class, and a working-class, who toil in agony underground. It begins with Freder, the son of the powerful Metropolis leader who encounters a working-class prophet named Maria. Freder feels drawn to the woman and searches for her. Meanwhile, Freder’s father visits a bitter adversary named Rotwang. A mad scientist type, Rotwang tells him that he’s built a robot replica of a woman they once both loved, whose name was Hel. Like an enigma wrapped in a mystery, the robot creates a dense and secretive narrative. Divulging old motivations and riddles behind the characters, adds to the story, but the robot becomes both ethereal and powerful, a form of immortality and the path to destruction.

By the time I learnt to read, Enid Blyton had already written six or seven children’s books. One of my early reads was likely to have been this one, the original adventure. Eventually, I read them all.

I learnt the characters so well; their looks and personalities, they were embedded in my mind until the next book – and the remaining nineteen! So clear were their identities, my friends and I were able to re-enact the Five’s escapades taking the roles of the siblings and cousin. 

Although some of her writing comes in for criticism these days (from adults), it’s for things that went unnoticed by the average child swept along by the book’s adventures.

In my writing I work hard to create memorable characters and I’m always delighted when they are mentioned by readers.

This book is different from the rest on the list in a few ways. It doesn’t transport the characters to new, magical realms. There are no whimsical beasts or mystical creatures. And, perhaps most significantly, I read this one as a “grown-up.” I had the honor of reading this book aloud to my children, along with its sequels, over the course of several months. My kids were delighted by these bright, young protagonists who, using their wits, imagination, and moral compass, save their loved ones from a devious villain intent on obliterating individuality. I fell in love with these characters, just as my children did. And when we read the final page of the final chapter of the final book, my daughter burst into tears. Not because the story was sad, but because spending time with these imaginary people had been a real experience. 

Good stories take us to other… show more.

I loved this book because I saw the film many times. I never read the novelization of it. The book was more detailed than the movie, and it fascinated me. 

It was about a spaceship from Earth, the Palomino, which was investigating another ship, the Cygnus, that is too close to a black hole. The crew from the Palomino comes aboard Cygnus and meets its eccentric captain, Reinhardt, who has an entire robot army, as well as a tall, red automaton called Maximillian. The Palomino crew mates soon learn that Reinhardt has been out in space too long and wants to explore the black hole. 

Eventually, everyone dies, much to their despair.

The author of this short and easy-to-read chapter book goes beyond the story. I recommend this book because I like the last page of the book title “Notes for Adults.”

In busy life, it is easy to let our children read by themselves. It is easy to forget that books contain valuable lessons. It is easy to miss the opportunity to challenge reading skills and make the children read between the line to develop their critical thinking skills.

In this book, the author proposes before, during and after reading activities to support literacy skill. Wow! If you do all of them, this book is worth the money you have paid for it.

All parents and teachers should aim to develop children’s critical thinking.

Emperor Mollusk is the evil genius I’ve been waiting for—having conquered earth (and alienated the rest of the galaxy), he’s retired from world domination to pursue (mad) science for the sake of science. He’s got just enough sense of responsibility to stick around to protect earth’s denizens while his inflated ego allows him to ignore that his creations are often what’s putting the planet in peril. Arguments over nomenclature (is it a reverse temporal receiver or an anti-time radio?) made this lol funny, and the fast pace kept me turning pages. I love a good mashup, and this had the right mix of sci-fi archetypes, including a lizard warrior, a Tarzan-like alien in a dinosaur land, an Atlantean goddess, and of course the mysterious “Brain” in an exosuit. 

I know plenty of people have seen film adaptations of this story, but in Stevenson’s novel, the drug takes on a larger, more sinister role. In the story, Dr. Jekyll – a respected and well-meaning scientist – creates a drug that can alter his personality to allow his baser, more evil elements to come to the surface. It essentially summons his “alter-ego” Mr. Hyde. As the good doctor becomes more and more dependent on the drug, his evil counterpart becomes more and more the prominent personality. At its surface, the novel is a classic exploration of good vs. evil, but a careful reading also illuminates the real dangers of substance abuse and what that can do to a personality.

Given my belief that Thanos had a point (what science-math-oriented person can’t tremble at the algorithm of over-population?), it’s no surprise I enjoyed an anthology of different takes on mad scientists and what drives them. I got my fix of humorously boastful ego-maniacs, such as Professor Incognito’s itemized “apology” to his girlfriend (with attempted sincerity because of their couple’s therapist). And the variety of these tales exposed me to a bevy of villainy, from a psychologist who uses the “soft” sciences to unleash the insanity within stable scientists because “everyone deserves the opportunity to go mad” to a side-hustling villainy coach whose budget forces her to choose between new tech plating or weapons-grade plutonium. What’s a would-be world conqueror to do? Relatable.