100 Books Like Great Maria

I was drawn to this book, a ripping and irreverent yarn about Vikings, by the foreword to its new edition written by Michael Chabon.

Our sea-faring hero finds himself in endless scrapes everywhere a Viking ship could go, often brought about by his own foolishness. Of special note are his adventures in Islamic Spain.

And I discovered as I was writing this recommendation that the novel was (sort of) made into a 1964 movie, a British-Yugoslav coproduction starring, among others, Sidney Poitier. You’ve got to love that.

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.

I devoured this book in a weekend.

Hild plunged me into the rough and tumble world of seventh-century Anglo-Saxon England through the eyes of its title character, a young woman with unusual abilities who is dangerously close to the crown of one of its kings and who protects herself by becoming his seer.

I appreciated how Griffith evoked the texture of life in this period, its beauty and its roughness, bringing me into its mead halls and forests and onto its sea cliffs. She also draws out the cultural and linguistic diversity of the Anglo-Saxon world and the conflicts this created between Celts and Saxons, mixed with pressure from Franks across the Channel and the Latin Church in Rome.

This book is part of Dorothy Dunnett’s House of Niccolò series, about merchants and trade in the fifteenth century and I love the whole series for its focus on commerce and goods – commodities like sugar, cloth, dyestuffs, and whale oil – and its scope, taking us from Bruges to Italy, Cyprus and Rhodes, Trebizond in the Black Sea, Egypt, Iceland, and beyond.

I chose this particular book in the series because of its unusual focus on the gold trade in Africa, and the cultured Islamic intellectual world of Timbuktu, just before it fell to the Songhai Empire. Written about the world before the Age of Exploration, it made vivid to me the forces that promoted conquest, colonization, and exploitation that led to the voyages of Columbus and others.

This is a much-needed antidote to the navel-gazing tendencies of American criminal justice thought.

Reading contemporary treatments, you might almost be fooled into thinking that certain types of police controversies have a specifically American – or at least modern – origin. They don't. In fact, the peculiar challenges of policing and its inevitable discontents might even be universal.

Certainly, they were present at an early stage in medieval Italy, long before the first English "bobbies" ever dawned a uniform. Use-of-force controversies, weapons prohibitions, reluctant witnesses, hostile crowds, simmering beefs among local gangsters: it's all here. Roberts' medieval world so eerily resembles our own when it comes to law enforcement that one ends up surprised to encounter any differences at all.

Here's one, though: medieval town dwellers did not have cell phones with which to film the cops misdeeds. Instead, they hollered for notaries to scribble records on the spot.

If you’ve ever fantasized about restoring a crumbling medieval Italian villa, then you’ll get to live that experience vicariously through this memoir.

The author has a wonderful sense of the absurd as she recounts her family’s multi-year efforts to turn a roofless villa into their dream home, complete with a complicated teenage daughter who is trying to find her way in the rural Italian countryside where the family has been transplanted.

Brimming with idiosyncratic and endearing characters. 

This book encompasses why I am passionate about spiritual giftings and how important they are in spiritual warfare. I love high-stakes and adventurous plots, and Lisa kept me turning pages late into the night. I learned so much history regarding the Church before the Reformation and was reminded how easy it is for the enemy to make evil appear attractive.

This book gave me a new awareness of the spiritual realm and the power of prayer and discernment. Besides, it takes place in Italy, and I am obsessed with Italy!

One of the smartest books I’ve ever read portraying a woman in a “man’s job” in medieval England. Adelia is trained in Italy as a ‘Mistress of the Art of Death,’ a precursor to today’s medical examiner.

She’s brilliant and brave, and she engages in repartee with Sir Rowley—King Henry II’s tax collector and love interest—that has me turning the pages eager for their next encounter. This is a smart, funny, well-researched thriller that I return to every few years to reread. 

Waterfall takes a 21st-century girl, Gabriella, and mysteriously places her in medieval Italy. Gabi’s journey is unexpected and exciting! While the title might be misleading, you won’t be disappointed when you’re introduced to this teenage girl who’s grown up with archeologist parents learning how to wield a sword. Finding herself in the fourteenth century, Gabi literally lands in the middle of a battle, she meets a knight-prince, and her summer has only begun.

The medieval images that survive today might seem like simplistic or bizarre pictures now. But medieval viewers saw them differently. They treated images as tools for understanding, analyzing, and remembering complex ideas about the world.

Bolzoni works to crack that “code” through the case of late medieval Italy: she illustrates how viewers’ relationships to images changed the more they learned, how preachers communicated with their congregations in ways that listeners would visualize and internalize, and how certain images—like six-winged angels or trees of life—served as effective conduits of information but also as platforms for layered conceptual associations that got increasingly sophisticated the more that authors and audiences thought about them.

This beautiful, fascinating book is well worth seeking out from a library or used bookseller.