Soft music and sun-drenched beaches, and a touch of frost

An Equal Music by Vikram Seth, read by Alan Bates (Orion Audiobooks, 4 tapes, 6 1/2 hrs, £12.99 in UK)

Michael is a violinist in a trendy string quartet, unusual in the plummy middle class musical world in that he is from a working-class north of England background, obsessed with a woman he deserted years before, when he suffered a nervous breakdown during his musical studies in Vienna. When this woman - now happily married with a son - comes back into his life, the world he has so carefully reassembled threatens to come undone. So much for the storyline of An Equal Music. That leaves the writing. Seth is an inspired storyteller who, in this magical novel, applies his effortless pen to the impossible task of writing about music. He tells an unforgettable tale whose voices - all ably captured by Alan Bates in that tired, elegant way of his - weave from London to Vienna, Venice to Rochdale with the glorious, geometric intricacy of Bach's Art of Fugue, which, itself, is woven into the fabric of the book. If ever a novel was meant to be read aloud, this one was, and the occasional musical excerpts, which could have upended the whole delicate balance, are superbly handled.

The Beach by Alex Garland, read by Steven Mackintosh (Penguin, 2 tapes, 3 hrs, £8.99 in UK)

They came in search of paradise, as the chocolate advert used to say: white sands circling a lagoon hidden from the sea, coral gardens and freshwater falls surrounded by jungle. Can it be possible, on a planet which plonks a tourist resort on every available beauty spot, or is "the beach" just a wishful-thinking rumour on the Thai backpacking circuit? Richard, a young English traveller, is determined to find out. Alex Garland's debut novel is tense and engrossing, and Steven Mackintosh a terrific reader, edgy yet intimate. This, folks, is a winner: catch it before the movie version arrives.

Hannibal by Thomas Harris, read by the author (Random House Audio, 4 tapes, 6 hrs, £12.99 in UK)

The silence of the lambs was nothing compared to the silence of Thomas Harris, who has finally produced a sequel to his bestselling thriller after a gap of almost a decade. He hasn't lost his knack. It's horrifyingly easy to devour this six-hour audiobook at a single sitting (I did), but be warned: it's gory, it's repulsive and the ending will either amuse you or exasperate you beyond words.

Iris: a memoir of Iris Murdoch by John Bayley, read by Derek Jacobi (HarperCollins, 2 tapes, 3 hrs, £8.99 in UK)

It's tempting to keep putting this audiobook to the bottom of the pile, on the grounds that no matter how sympathetic and tactful its chronicle of the novelist and philosopher's descent into Alzheimer's disease, it will still make for painful and uncomfortable listening. But if you do, you haven't bargained on John Bayley's gentle humour; there's no place for despair or sentimentality in this beautifully written memoir, shortlisted for last year's Whitbread Biography Award, and superbly read, as usual, by Derek Jacobi.

Wise Children by Angela Carter, read by Miriam Margolyes (Chivers Audiobooks, 8 tapes, 10 1/2hrs, £15.95 in UK)

abridged or unabridged, that is the question with audiobooks: and this tourde-force performance by Miriam Margolyes of Angela Carter's eccentric, witty celebration of a century of showbusiness is an extraordinarily persuasive answer in favour of the latter. It's an expensive option at £15.95, of course, and a risky one, for if at any stage you take a dislike to the ebullient Margolyes - in ultra-Cockney mode as the all-singing, all-dancing Dora Chance, one half of "The Lucky Chances" who are, naturally, anything but - you're sunk. I thought she was fantastic, and was mesmerised for the best part of 11 blissful hours.

Knots and Crosses by Ian Rankin, read by Bill Paterson (Orion audiobooks, 2 tapes, 3 hrs 20 mins, £8.99 in UK)

Ian Rankin's Inspector Rebus novels are greatly admired by the crime fraternity, and Bill Paterson would appear to be the perfect reader for these edgy stories set in an unfamiliar Edinburgh of odd corners and sinister side-streets; so why didn't I enjoy Rankin's slow, sinister tale of abductions and anonymous packages, with its overlay of Biblical imagery and flashbacks to the legalised torture of Rebus's military past? Too much of the latter, I fear, in gory, overblown detail, and certainly no fault of the excellent Paterson; but then Knots and Crosses is the first Rebus book, dating from 1987 and newly released as audio catches up, so perhaps I should have a go at a volume of more recent vintage. Watch this space.

Night Frost by R.D. Wingfield, read by David Jason (HarperCollins Audiobooks, 2 tapes, 3 hrs, £8.99 in UK)

HUH, Rankin fans will snort, from the sublime to the ridiculous: well, maybe it is, but if you're planning to braise gently on a beach in temperatures of 30 degrees or more in the near future, then do bring Inspector Jack Frost with you, if only for the sheer pleasure of hearing him shake his brolly and grumble at the interminable sheets of rain which seem to swathe the suburb of Denton and its environs for most of this ultra-easy-listening tale. That, and a serial killer who specialises in senior citizens . . .

Aristocrats by Stella Tillyard, read by Serena Gordon (HarperCollins, 2 tapes, 3 hrs, £8.99 in UK)

Recently broadcast as a BBC drama, this is unmissable stuff on audiotape, a brilliant recreation of the world of the Hanoverian elite, the true story of the four Lennox sisters and their turbulent lives: Caroline, who elopes with a maverick politician; Emily, who marries a senior peer and gives birth to 21 children; Louisa, who marries Ireland's richest man; Sarah, who flirts with the King of England. Sensational stuff, all the more remarkable for its ring of authenticity, and its glimpse into the inner minds and private lives of some very public women.

Stephen King: Live! (Hodder Headline, 2 tapes, 90 mins, £8.99 in UK)

The phrase Stephen King: Live! has a potentially even more horrifying ring than Freddy's Dead! But in truth, this recording of a gig at London's Royal Festival Hall in which King first reads his unpublished short story "LT's Theory Of Pets" and then takes part, genially and gracefully, in a public interview with Muriel Gray, will win the mega-selling horror writer even more friends, for he comes across as frank, charming, intelligent and unspoiled. It would be so easy to hate him. Oh, yes.

Bag of Bones by Stephen King, read by the author (Hodder Headline, 16 tapes, 22 hrs, £29.99 in UK)

The scariest thing about Bag of Bones is undoubtedly its length - this is the full, unabridged monty, and by the time you get to side 27, believe me, you're beginning to wonder if you haven't become trapped inside some kind of alternative reality and can't get out. The thing is, you won't really want out. King is an easygoing, lazy-voiced reader of his own work with a mean line in Yankee accents, and this ghost story-cum-love story has little enough in the way of horror per se to face up to. On the contrary, the setting - a long hot summer in an idyllic log cabin in western Maine, the property of a best-selling author who has gone there to seek relief from writer's block brought on by the unexpected death of his young wife - is about the most appealing retreat from reality you could imagine. Until it gets dark, of course . . .

Betjeman's Cornwall, read by Ken Cranham, Geoffrey Palmer and Simon Russell Beale (Cover to Cover, 2 tapes, 2 hrs, £8.99 in UK)

John Betjeman fell in love with Cornwall during childhood holidays there, and returned every year until his death. The landscape was a constant inspiration to him, and many of his best poems and essays evoke its cliffs and beaches, modest farms, neat churches and - towering around and above it all - the sea. This collection alternates prose and poetry in warm, affectionate, cleverly varied performances by the three readers.

Round Ireland with a Fridge by Tony Hawks, read by the author (Random House, 2 tapes, 3 hrs, £8.99 in UK)

It was a silly idea, and now it's a silly audiobook, doing exactly what it says on the tin, and hitching around Ireland in the company of an electrical appliance, loudly applauding its own silliness as it go. There's a good deal of rollicking hilarity in pubs, and puzzled peasants scratching their forelocks, while the English author's attempt at reproducing an Irish accent - he seems to be under the impression that there's only one, despite having travelled from Tory Island to Dublin via Kerry - is simply bizarre.

Vector by Robin Cook, read by William Dufris (Macmillan, 2 tapes, 3 hrs, £8.99 in UK)

The ultimate terror is loose on the streets of New York: no, not a Russian taxi driver, but an anthrax-based bio-weapon. Or, actually, a Russian taxi-driver who builds said bio-weapons in his spare time. Vector is a slick medical thriller equipped with an appalling female goody-two-shoes off-lead and entirely devoid of even a hint of a sense of humour, while William Dufris's now-gravelly, now-camp reading almost drove me to drink. Vodka. With ice, thanks.

Arminta Wallace is an Irish Times journalist