Charlotte Philby's Desert Island Books
Featuring a remarkable memoir and Charlotte's favourite coming-of-age stories...
Spy novels have long held a special kind of allure—the tension, the secrets, and the slow unraveling of truth. And few contemporary writers do it quite so well as Charlotte Philby. A former investigative journalist, Charlotte spent eight years at The Independent before turning her talents to fiction, crafting taut, intelligent thrillers that feature espionage, family legacies, and the hidden complexities of human relationships.
As the granddaughter of Britain’s most infamous double agent—Kim Philby, the elusive ‘third man’ of the Cambridge spy ring—her storytelling is steeped in an innate understanding of secrecy and betrayal. Her fourth novel, Edith and Kim, was named one of the best books of 2022 by The Times and Sunday Times, and her new novel, Dirty Money, a gripping thrill-ride set in contemporary London, was published in February.
But it was her most recent novel, The End of Summer, that I read in a single sitting. A slow-burn psychological thriller taking place in London, the South of France, and New York, it’s about past tragedies, buried secrets, and devastating revelations. At its heart are mother and daughter Judy and Francesca—bound together by love yet divided by the mysteries of the past. As Francesca searches for answers about her father’s disappearance, Judy is haunted by the secrets she has kept for years, unsure if the truth will set them free or shatter them entirely.
It’s always a treat to speak with such talented authors about their favourite books—and I loved learning learning about the stories that have shaped Charlotte. One highlight was hearing about the rather familiar experience of reading a certain book while wearing fisherman pants (also guilty) on an island in Thailand. From a remarkable memoir to Charlotte’s favourite coming-of-age stories, read on to discover the eight books she’d take with her on a dream island getaway…
I believe in writing without a paywall—but it does take time. If you’re enjoying this post, I’d be so grateful if you considered buying me a coffee. It would absolutely make my day.
Romantic Comedy by Curtis Sittenfeld
I have a rare talent for a writer of forgetting the plot of a book the moment I close the last page. This means what I’m often left with is the feeling a story gave me, which is inevitably bound up with where I was and what I was doing when I read it. Romantic Comedy was the first “grown-up” book that my daughter and I have read, one after the other. I’d taken my three children away to Greece, on my own, while my husband worked. Rosa was almost 14 at the time, and this literary rite of passage marked a new stage in our mother-daughter relationship—sharing books—and I loved both the novel (witty, uplifting), and that feeling of new connection.
Arabian Nights by St. John Philby
My great-grandfather, St John, was an Arabist and explorer who spent twenty years travelling by camel through Saudi’s Empty Quarter, mapping the desert whilst charting the wildlife he encountered along the way. His findings are kept in endless notebooks in the Royal Geographical Society, but he also wrote several, enormous books on his travels, of which Arabian Nights is one. The vastness of the landscape and the tribesmen he met along the way had such a profound effect that St John converted to Islam. I feel like his approach to adventure, spirituality, and his wonder at the natural world would be an inspiration in my time of solace.
The Beach by Alex Garland
As a novelist and screenwriter, Alex Garland, in my view, can do no wrong. Like so many people of my generation, I first read The Beach on a beach in Thailand, ill-advisedly dressed in fisherman’s pants and suffering the ill-effects of drinking Red Bull from a bucket. I like to think in re-reading this brilliant, seminal story of youth, power, and madness, on my desert island, I could mentally transport myself pack to simpler times—without the silly trousers.
The Fact of a Body by Alexandria Marzano-Lesnevich
This book—part memoir, part true-crime story—is remarkable. Alexandria Marzano-Lesnevich was newly-graduated from Harvard, working for the law-firm of British human rights lawyer Clive Stafford-Smith in Louisiana, when she encountered the story of the historical murder a local child. The event triggers the memory of her own dark and deeply-buried past; the way she beautifully weaves together these stories, exploring the political and the personal and the impact of the past on the present, with emotion and intellect, will give plenty to mull over on those long, lonely days.
The Jinny Stories by Penelope Leitch
Pure nostalgia, this series by Penelope Leitch (starting with For the Love of a Horse, first printed in 1976) was a childhood obsession. I was a horse-mad girl stranded in the urban streets of London, and these books, which told the story of spirited, tomboyish Jinny who moved to the wilds of Scotland with her father, where she was given a steady pony named Bramble and dreamed of a wild Arab circus horse named Shantih, spoke to me in so many ways. These were my coming-of-age stories and would no doubt bring comfort if I felt alone.
Any Human Heart by William Boyd
My husband Barney and I love to listen to audiobooks together, and one of the few authors we tend to agree on is William Boyd. I’ll never forget the first time we listened to Any Human Heart, and Barney cried more than I’ve ever known him to. It’s an epic, deeply moving story spanning one man’s life and reading it would be a reliable source of wisdom, joy, and the prompt I’ll be needing for a much-needed sob. Plus, as I read the words, I could picture the sofa at home and the feeling of being read to—one of life’s greatest joys.
That Glimpse of Truth—100 of the best short stories ever written, selected and introduced by David Miller
This is probably cheating, but if I’m being banished from civilisation for the rest of my life then I think I can be forgiven for taking what I can get. That Glimpse of Truth is a mighty collection of short stories, from Anton Checkhov and Angela Carter to Roald Dahl and Kate Atkinson. The beautiful thing about fiction is how it transports us to another world, and a collection like this would enable me to live many lives from the discomfort of my sandy bed.
Encyclopedia Brittanica
There are many gaps in my understanding of the world and with the time and space to think—and desperately seek distraction—I feel being on a deserted island is the perfect time to remedy this. A series of bitesize chunks of information—perfect for a flitty mind, as mine can be—would also provide a good way to connect with the essential elements, and get to know more about indigenous animals, and the terrain on which I am stranded. Perhaps, in my isolation, I will be left feeling less separate from, and more connected to, the world around me. (Perhaps.)