Books like Double Fold — picked by fans

Why do our libraries, those at home, at university, or in the public library network, look the way they do? Many people would agree that books are best stored upright on shelves, spine out, but how did we come to that conclusion? This delightful book offers all the answers, and incidentally reveals more than you could ever think of to ask about the manner in which we take care of, store, and display books. It might even give you some inspiration on how to arrange your own collection.

It is difficult to imagine a list of great novels about the Middle Ages that does not include this book.

I read it first when I was in graduate school, and it brought so much of what I was studying to life – the monastic world of its setting with all its contradictions and spectacular architecture; fights over religion and the true nature of spirituality; the non-linear nature of medieval literature. 

I love how it can be read on one level as a page-turny murder mystery and on another as a post-modern novel that explores the nature of signs and meaning. Its mystificatory preface reveals the distance between the medieval world and what we can say about it.

This is the most recently published book on my list of recommendations, and also the most beautiful. Books on libraries are often lavish, but few offer as striking and sad a history as this. This is the first in-depth examination of one of the greatest lost libraries in the world, that of King John V of Portugal (1689-1750). John was a true bibliophile, and arguably the greatest librarian-king. Although he rarely travelled, he amassed one of the most magnificent court libraries in Enlightenment Europe. This book tells its story, which also dips into a broader history of elite collecting, and of the devastating earthquake that struck Lisbon in 1755 and wiped the library off the face of the earth. Knowing the haunting fate of the library makes this a mesmerizing read.

What does true bibliomania look like? Read no further than Stephen Grant’s Collecting Shakespeare, the story of the couple who created the Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington DC. Henry Folger was a wealthy oil baron, but with the devoted help of his wife, poured all his money into buying up copies of Shakespeare editions, especially the famous First Folio of 1623 (he ultimately ended up with 82). The couple erected an enormous library building opposite the Library of Congress (flattening several blocks of housing in the process) to become the permanent home to the largest collection of books by and on Shakespeare in the world. Although Henry died before the library opened, this is a rare story of success in a long history of eccentric library curation that generally ends with the dispersal of the collection. 

This book simply changed the way I do business as a historian and a reader. I love the groundbreaking use of diaries, census records, worker’s memoirs, and library registers to sketch a detailed picture of real books read by real people—not just the official academic record of fine editions with countless mentions of that nameless creature, the “nineteenth-century reader.”

It inspired me to pursue the stories behind the names and comments scratched into abandoned books that find their way onto eBay and the dusty shelves of second-hand bookstores.

I love the grit and heroism of this story about the history of the humble Armed Services Editions. My own university holds one of the largest collections of these small wartime reprints that were sized to fit into the pocket of a GI’s uniform.

So, I initially reached for this book out of duty but then relished it for its compelling historical facts and vividly bookish humanity.

I love how every little detail of every surviving copy of the famous Gutenberg Bible (a binding, illuminations, a bit of marginalia, etc.) is investigated for clues to its monastic first owners, the book’s travels, and repairs. The chapters read like episodes of CSI. 

Yes, my university owns a Gutenberg copy, so this started as another duty read but ended in true love. A big expensive book about the first big expensive book better be good, right? Well, this one is better than good—it is a tour of the force of book sleuthing. I fetishize the illustrations and how this book, cleverly, is roughly the size of a Gutenberg volume.

This is an interesting collection of essays on the history of the CIA.

A spy agency thrives on deceit and uncertainty, making plans and taking actions when the adversary also thrives on those same elements.

Arranged in chronological order, the essays cover nearly 20 different incidents, describing the challenges, uncertainties, goals, and decisions made by both high-level political decision-makers and practitioners in the field.

Topics covered include early stages in the development of the CIA (founded in 1947), including covert action against the Soviet Union in the 1950s, the Bay of Pigs (1961), the Iran-Contra affair (mid-1980s), up to more recent events with bin Laden, fake news, and more.

This is a great book about former CIA Director Richard Helms and the agency he directed. Helms was the quintessential CIA man, and Powers tells the story of his 30-year career in spying in this beautifully written book, which somehow captures both Helms’ elusiveness and his essence.

I love thrillers that tell the story of a group of operatives who must work together under the leadership of a strong central figure in order to accomplish a difficult mission, and from the opening chapter, I knew this novel would be exactly that.

This is the first book in the Warrior Spy Thriller Series. While I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know the hero of the story, Delta Force operator, Reagan Rainey, who is temporarily assigned to a CIA entity, I was also fascinated by the other members of his special ops team, not only because of their unique personalities, but also by the way Rainey was able to share his faith with them without sounding preachy and to remind me of how grateful I am to live in America.