The best books in which all that glitters is not gold (2024)

All that glitters isn't gold, and sometimes, dead is better. For a tale that Stephen King was told not to publish because it was too scary and that he only released to get out of a contract, I've always found this book oddly comforting. It once genuinely helped me process a string of sudden bereavements.

I admire its frankness about death: it pulls no punches. In my own family, and perhaps in British culture more widely, we struggle to talk about death. I've read the novel lots, as a young man and as a not-so-young man with his own children, and found that what stands the test of time is the central notion that, yes, not being here is bad, it's really bad, but it isn't the worst thing–and for that small mercy we should be grateful.

Daphne Du Maurier has made a permanent mark on my soul. Whether it was Hitchco*ck's adaptation of The Birds, which I watched when I was far too young, or the wrecked ships of Jamaica Inn, her imagery and ideas are unforgettable.

And like the titular character of Rebecca, part of me still roams the halls and grounds of Manderley. I first encountered the story at a transitional moment in early adulthood. Having been a child drawn to spooky stories about ghouls and spectres, this book marked the moment I came to understand that not every haunted house has a ghost.

In researching this list, I was surprised to learn it had been over a decade since this book's release. At the time, in 2014, I'd never read anything that had so accurately captured the madness of social media and how it might be affecting our psychology and the world. It perfectly captured my own anxiety about the changing nature of the internet.

Some dinged the book for not accurately portraying Silicon Valley, but like many of Eggers's books, it is more of an allegory. It has as much to say about online status seeking and groupthink as it does about big technology monopolies. And the film is nothing like the novel, so please don't miss the book because of it.

What I love about Ira Levin is his ability to tackle huge concepts with such a mix of black humour and lightness that suspension of disbelief is made easy. I might also have put Rosemary's Baby on this list, but it was Stepford that got to me first.

It's such a neat little novel, a master class in writing efficiency, and that's just one thing I love. Another is how it evokes that feeling of the world changing for the worst around you, while everyone else seems to be just smiling like nothing's happening.

I couldn't resist putting this in here. The book is as much of a treat as a movie and has its own darker vibe.It's the first “grown-up” book I ever read, and it's rewarded re-reads over the years. Like with Ira Levin, it's amazing to see a high-concept pulled off so well, and even now, you have to applaud what Crichton did with it.

It built in me a healthy respect for science and a skepticism of big business, and even now it makes me feel that wonder I had when I first read it.