100 Books Like Caravans

This prequel to the Sharpe series covers the eponymous hero’s adventures in India at the siege of Seringapatam before the Peninsular War. For me, Cornwell’s books are a perfect mix of history and breathless action. This one even features a cameo from Wellington. If only they’d let me read this in history at school, I might have stayed awake more often. Cornwell pays great attention to historical detail, and if he messes with it, he does it deliberately. There are sumptuous palaces, epic battle scenes, rockets exploding, and people getting eaten by tigers. There’s also the deliciously nasty Sergeant Obadiah Hakeswill. What’s not to love? 

When it comes to historical fiction, especially one set in Asia, James Clavell is the guy to beat (or at least match).

The story of Shogun unfolds in 17th-century, feudal Japan. An undisputedly exotic setting. A British ship is wrecked on its shores, and its stranded navigator must find his way through Japan's complex cultural and political dynamics. Meanwhile there are other Europeans seeking religious influence and commercial advantage.

Perhaps best of all, the characters are monumental and include one of the strongest and most courageous women in literature since Joan of Arc.

Flashman does a thing I love, which is to tell the story of another book's least notable character.

Harry Flashman comes from Thomas Hughes's 1850 novel Tom Brown's School Days (the entire basis for the Harry Potter novels), where he's a sub-Draco Malfo figure, a useless bully.

Flashman tells the story of his later years as the Victorian Empire's most cowardly soldier, rattling around British colonies, stumbling through their various atrocities and debacles. I wish the book were even harsher on the Brits, but it's a deeply fun counter-text and a lovely bit of escapism nonetheless.

This is loosely based on the 1915 sinking of the SMS Königsberg, in the Rufiji delta of East Africa. I love this not only for the fast-paced plotting, but for the characters, who are far less wooden and predictable than in some of Smith’s later work. The amoral and irascible Flynn O’ Flynn is impossible not to love, as is the utterly gormless hero, Sebastian Oldsmith—brave, loyal and handsome, if not actually the full quid. I like the sheer unpredictability of this one. Smith was not constrained by the formula he followed later in his career. It is by turns thrilling, funny, and shocking. I imagine his publishers eventually persuaded him not to write any more like this. He died with more than a hundred million pounds in the bank, so perhaps they were right. But for me, this outlier remains an absolute gem.

Busse offers the new perspective of an insider—an erstwhile gun executive. I’ve always held that the gun industry has gotten far too little attention historically, and that commercial forces substantially helped to create and then maintain the American gun mystique and culture long after the “frontier” closed. Busse’s work shows just how explicitly the gun industry today, since 9/11 and the Iraq and Afghanistan wars, relies on “manufactured fear” to push products. The book teems with examples of fear marketing, including endorsements from social media celebrities that created a new breed of “couch commandos,” steeped in the “glorification of violence, the utter rejection of political correctness, and the freewheeling masculinity and objectification of women.” And in Busse’s view it’s not just that gun marketing has changed, but that the gun industry has transformed American culture itself, radicalizing it and shifting it toward authoritarianism.

We’ve seen and felt this malevolence of… show more.

I liked Samuel Helfont’s book for the solidity of his research on the instrumentalization of Islam by the Saddam Hussein regime.

I personally feel that the 1980s is a key period in understanding how some of the problems that emerged during the late Cold War are still relevant today. This is certainly true for the Middle East, a region that is prone to conflicts and where the United States has been involved militarily over the past forty years.

Beyond that, I enjoyed Helfont’s writing which is strikingly dynamic.

Mukhopadhyay’s book joined an emerging cohort of books that sought to demonstrate that the collapse of the state does not necessarily lead to a vacuum. This is because any vacuum left by the decline of the state is bound to be filled by other forces, be they local or external to the region.

In the case of Afghanistan, Mukhopadhyay shows through the case of Afghanistan, and based on a fieldwork in the country, how the state that was born out of the ousting of the Taliban in 2001 was capable of co-opting local warlords in the remote periphery and integrate them into the emerging order in the country.

Through a close examination and detailed accounts of several case studies from across Afghanistan, Mukhopadhyay offers persuading arguments about what makes warlords and other peripheral actors useful allies to a weak central government.

I found this book to be full of insights into Russian thinking and culture. I never met Hingley, but would have loved to—his work has had a real influence on my own approach to studying and thinking about Russia. I find him a fluent writer who can take complex and controversial subjects and make them accessible. This is such a rich book. Hingley tries to explain problems of perspective in thinking about a different culture, before moving on to address a wide range of themes from Russian literature to history, geography, and politics. Times and attitudes change, but I find that it helps to frame some persistent questions about Russian life, and this book is such a good way to understand how things do—and don’t—happen in Russia. 

Harry Flashman called Lady Sale a vinegary old dragon with a tongue like a carving knife. Well, what else would one expect from a cad who quailed before spirited women as hastily as he fled an enemy?

In reality, Lady Sale was cultured as well as tough. Her diary of Kabul life in 1842 records the pleasure of sharing her geraniums with "Afghan gentlemen" who she thought "a fine, manly-looking set". The British officers, on the other hand, she perceived as a pathetic lot, from the hapless General Elphinstone to various "reprehensible croakers".

Her own mettle was visible during the massacre that followed – her wound was dismissed: "I had fortunately only one ball in my arm; three others passed through my [coat] near the shoulder” – and nine months’ captivity.

Buddy the Soldier Bear is an adorable story that highlights the journey of a care package.

Having grown up in a military family, we sent care packages to our service members when they were away. I distinctly remember our classes encouraging us to write letters and add our favorite drawings to the packages. It makes a huge difference in morale for service members to know that someone cared enough to think of and send a handwritten note.

It’s an emotional story that encourages readers to remember the military community outside of special holidays. With very relevant illustrations, the story offers appreciation and compassion for military families. There is a sense of adventure as Buddy joins the soldiers during military assignments until he safely accompanies the soldier home.