9 Books Like Im Zeichen des Merkur

Wilson-Lee’s brilliant book is not strictly about Columbus, but about his youngest son Hernando Colón and the extraordinary library that he created in Seville.

However, it sheds much light on Columbus and his world. And (to paraphrase what I wrote when I listed this as one of my three “Favorite reads in 2023”), the book is not only a contribution to Columbus studies, but also an absolute pleasure to read.

It is erudite and scholarly, and Wilson-Lee shows a keen eye for fascinating digressions. Yet he also writes with wit and elegance, maintaining subtle narrative tension and effortlessly bringing the reader deep into the eccentric world of Hernando and his many books.

The key obstacle to communication in the pre-modern age was distance: this was particularly the case in the transported communities of European settlers in distant continents, often sparsely settled and without the familiar settled infrastructure of roads and trade. In this landmark study, Richard Brown considers the case of colonial America and the early Republic through a series of well-chosen case studies. These reveals that Americans relied on a multi-media experience of newsgathering, where conversation, gossip, and neighbour networks competed with new media innovations. An instant classic full of insight.

It is striking that the multitude of studies of propaganda in the Second World War deal with newspapers, cinema, radio, and poster campaigns and largely ignore books. The Nazi regime certainly did not, as this fascinating and authoritative book makes clear. From the first months after their takeover of power, Nazi authorities moved swiftly to establish control over libraries and the publishing industry, as well as authors and booksellers. This is the definitive study of how the German book world was reordered to serve the totalitarian state.

As an 80s kid, it pains a small part of me to recommend a historical fiction book that takes place in 1984, but this book goes into so much more than simply the tragic fire that destroyed part of the LA Central Library. While I found those aspects compelling, what really drew me in was the history of library sciences and how women played—and got pushed out of—the history of such beloved institutions.

There is also a nice bonus of humanity restored for all those who helped salvage as many books as they could after the tragedy. I found it to be a really gripping and informative read.  

I have been fascinated with Sisi since I visited the Habsburg Castle in Vienna several years ago. In The Accidental Empress, Allison Pataki imbues Elisabeth of Bavaria—known as Sisi—with humanity and intelligence. Engaged to Sisi’s older sister, the emperor Franz Joseph falls in love with the younger girl instead, making Sisi an “accidental empress.” However, his choice unleashes a chain of intrigue and political maneuvering. Pataki’s novel is rich in psychological insight, and her detailed descriptions of court life and the Austrian landscape transport the reader to another time and place. Pataki captures beautifully the atmosphere of luxury and intrigue of the Habsburg court and having been in the Castle, I can well imagine Sisi gliding through its vast space or dining on its priceless china. 

Robert Evans’s masterpiece is the reader’s equivalent of scaling Himalayan peaks—and marveling at the views. The author’s linguistic and intellectual range is breathtaking. Those who read this classic of learned prose carefully will be taken on an unforgettable journey right over and below the horizon of the Central European mind between the Renaissance and the Enlightenment. One of the greatest works of early modern intellectual history ever written.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading nine of Westerman's books, some of them twice. This is literary contemporary history. Aside from a place, a period, and a prism through which to look, Frank combines award-winning literary skills with a journalistic journey. His stories are both big and small, personal and universal. Here he follows a fascinating 20th-century journey of the so-called ‘most pure’ horses of Europe. Through that story, you will find yourself cantering through the nature versus nurture debate that defined much of Europe’s recent history. On top of all that, I also recognise his journey through life, from his studies to ‘development’ work to foreign journalism to literary non-fiction writing on the big issues at the people & places interface. 

This is a comfort read I come back to again and again. It’s a historical fantasy filled with political intrigue and with multiple overlapping storylines, and I revel in the rich historical detail of 18th-century Austria. But the heart of the novel is the romance between timid young widow Charlotte von Steinbeck and charismatic castrato Carlo Morelli. Both outsiders in their own ways, they’re brought together by a shared appreciation of music, and their relationship gives both of them the courage to push back against the narrow expectations imposed on them by society.

Reading this book, we have a front row seat at one of the most important moments of world history.

Over the course of his conquest of Mexico, Hernando wrote five letters to the King of Spain. He was often full of BS—but that doesn’t make his writings any less interesting! Cortés always had an eye on the main chance, so he wrote what he thought would impress.

Here, for instance, we find the story—impossible to believe—that as soon as Cortés arrived in the Aztec capital, he placed Montezuma, emperor of millions, under house arrest. Cortés had a translator upon whom he depended for everything—and he referred to her only a handful of times. Most of the time, he seems to communicate by magic. It is downright funny!