Every story needs a villain – but some books are more directly aimed at interrogating the nature of evil than others. Is anyone truly born evil, or are we all the product of circumstance? Can any evil act be truly forgiven? These questions, and more, are explored in these ten fiction books about the nature of evil.
Strange Case Of Dr Jekyll And Mr Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson
There are many different ways to read Strange Case Of Dr Jekyll And Mr Hyde, the prototype for the remarkably niche sub-genre of ‘doppelganger lit’. In case you’ve been living under a rock, the story follows a London lawyer trying to catch a violent criminal, only to discover that he’s the alter ego of his beloved friend, a mild-mannered and friendly local doctor. One way to interpret this deeply layered novella is to read it as a comment on the nature of evil: we all have the potential for evil buried inside of us, no matter how kind and gentle our outward appearance. Read my full review of Strange Case Of Dr Jekyll And Mr Hyde here.
Crime And Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Crime And Punishment follows the story of ex-student Rodin Raskolnikov, living on a shoestring in St Petersburg. He formulates a plan to stop his sister marrying a rich man (whom she does not love) in order to support the family – he sees that as a kind of prostitution, so how to prevent such a crime? Well, kill a crotchety old pawn-broker and steal her cash, obviously! It’s an evil act, no doubt, but is Raskolnikov evil? That question haunts him, and continues to intrigue scholars and readers to this day. Read my full review of Crime And Punishment here.
Lord Of The Flies by William Golding
You might remember Lord Of The Flies as simply a high school English book report subject, but when understood in the context of its original publication, it’s a meditation on the nature of evil. It came off the back of World War II, where the world had just seen previously-unimaginable atrocities, far removed from everyday life, and it had made everyone all-too aware of humanity’s capacity for cruelty. In Golding’s parable, isolated young boys play out the war games they see modeled by adults, with tragic consequences. Read my full review of Lord Of The Flies here.
Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood
In Alias Grace, Margaret Atwood fictionalises the story of the real life and crimes of Grace Marks. She and another servant in the same household, James McDermott, were tried and convicted of the 1843 murders of the householder Thomas Kinnear and his housekeeper (slash secret lover) Nancy Montgomery. McDermott was sentenced to death and hanged, while Marks’s death sentence was commuted. Was she actually guilty, or was she wrongfully imprisoned? Was she truly evil, or subjected to forces beyond her control? Read my full review of Alias Grace here.
American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis
American Psycho seems like your bog-standard Yuppie greed novel… until the protagonist, Patrick Bateman, starts describing his violent impulses and how he acts upon them. Bret Easton Ellis actually received death threats and hate-mail when it hit the shelves, and even anyone who positively reviewed the book was subject to criticism. Some governments have deemed it so disturbing that it can only be sold to 18+ adults, shrink-wrapped like a smutty magazine. Steel yourself if you’re planning to pick it up – it’s probably the most graphic of these books about the nature of evil. Read my full review of American Psycho here.
Beloved by Toni Morrison
It’s easy to assume that any mother who kills her own child is inherently evil – it’s an act that violates every biological and evolutionary imperative. Toni Morrison forces us to consider that act from a different perspective though, and reassess where the moral culpability for such an act truly lies. Beloved was inspired by the real-life story of Margaret Garner, a slave who escaped and fled to the free state of Ohio in 1856. When U.S. marshals busted into her cabin and arrested her, they found that she had killed her own two-year-old daughter and was attempting to kill her other children. The motive, as we understand it today, was to prevent her children being returned to a life of slavery – a fate worse than death. Read my full review of Beloved here.
The Nickel Boys by Colson Whitehead
Colson Whitehead has a unique talent for making horrific stories about the nature of evil feel compelling and moving. In The Nickel Boys, he turns this talent to a Jim Crow-era segregated reform school, writing a book that the Pulitzer Prize judges called “ultimately a powerful tale of human perseverance, dignity and redemption” when they awarded him the 2020 Prize for Fiction. He knows just when to pull your eyes away from a scene, to avoid reveling in the horror, which somehow makes it more impactful. Read my full review of The Nickel Boys here.
The Picture Of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
What if acts of evil had no consequence for the perpetrator? That’s one of the many questions raised by The Picture Of Dorian Gray. This is another short classic book that has a lot to say about the nature of evil. A young and beautiful man is made immortal in a Faustian bargain, whereby a portrait of his face will grow old and haggard as he enjoys a life of hedonism and indulgence. It’s a story about about aestheticism and the double-lives we all lead which is only more resonant in the era of Instagram. Read my full review of The Picture Of Dorian Gray here.
The Secret History by Donna Tartt
In the hands of a lesser writer, The Secret History would have been beyond the pale – but Donna Tartt is masterful and all too convincing, so you’ll find yourself drawn in unquestioningly to her epic tale. A student is murdered, and over the course of 500+ pages, a story of Dionysian parties, hallucinogenic experiences, betrayal and mistrust is revealed. Tartt’s prose is exquisitely detailed, with startling revelations and intriguing mysteries, and you’ll never quite know whether the questions she raises about the nature of evil can be satisfactorily answered. Read my full review of The Secret History here.
Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn
Gillian Flynn’s (relatively) quiet debut novel, Sharp Objects, follows Camille Preaker, a journalist for a small Chicago newspaper, as she’s drawn back to her hometown to report on the abduction and murder of two young girls. Gradually, as the story unfolds and Camille gets closer to the truth, you’ll learn why her unresolved issues with her mother and her hometown might never be fully untangled. The evil at the heart of this story will send a chill down your spine, and lead you to wonder: can we ever truly overcome the trauma we inherit? Read my full review of Sharp Objects here.
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