Books like Inventing the French Revolution — picked by fans

The Haitian Revolution was long left out of the history of Atlantic revolutions, dismissed as a violent uprising of enslaved people without an ideological dimension.

Dubois’s book walks readers through the twists and turns of this decade-long revolution, highlighting the intellectual agency of enslaved and freed people and the ideological consequences of this transformative event.

The Haitian Revolution is a notoriously complicated event, but I found that this book provided coherence and a compelling analysis of the effects of this crucial moment in the history of democracy and movement for human rights. And it was a gripping read at that.

No book has done more to change my thinking about the American Revolution and Constitution.

It’s a tome, but if you want to understand the political philosophy of the American Revolution—from the Stamp Act to the ratification of the federal Constitution—then this is your book. Wood follows the evolution of and innovation in American political thought from the struggle for independence through the creation of a new nation.

In doing so, he makes the case for why the American Revolution was revolutionary and raises the possibility of seeing the Constitution as an act of counter-revolution.

Understanding what turns someone into a revolutionary has always interested me.

Sure, there are ideas floating around and there may be material interests motivating decisions. But what causes someone to go from being a reformer to a revolutionary? Tackett digs into the memoires, diaries, and correspondence of deputies sent to the Estates General in 1789 to illuminate how their perspectives evolved throughout the first years of the French Revolution.

His account captures the pressure of crowds, the fumbling of inexperienced politicians, the fears for family back home, and the un-relenting unpredictability of events in a way that clarifies how people and dynamics radicalized. It made me think about revolutions in a totally new way by bringing in the day-to-day experiences of those who took part shaping the course of events.

Going beyond any one political revolution, this book traces an underlying epistemological convulsion that facilitated the formation of modern democracy in the late eighteenth century.

Common sense is supposed to defy historical analysis; we assume everyone has it, always has had it, and always will. But I love this book because it completely undoes these assumptions; Rosenfeld shows how the concept of common sense was a historical creation of the long eighteenth century.

Perhaps epitomized by Thomas Paine’s famous 1776 pamphlet, common sense was more than an idea; it became a style of politics and justification for free speech and popular sovereignty. Common sense became not only a precondition for democratic politics but a precursor of populism.

This is very much the oldest of my choices, and there are some great recent books on Scotland in the 1790s, but for me, this one still stands up for detail, excitement, clarity, and pace.

I live in Edinburgh, where much of the central action in this book takes place—there were radical reform societies all over Lowland Scotland in the 1790s, but they sent delegates to national conventions in Edinburgh, and Edinburgh was where many of the state trials for treason and sedition took place. 

You and I are recently witnessing the popular upheaval in France as a result of the chronic reduction of the purchasing power.

A new story? Ha, no! The French Revolution was about the same thing at the same place: making ends meet. Anatole France takes us through a particular subject within the Revolutionary Tribunal, where the trials of the bourgeoisie should end in bloody executions.

It is very interesting to get under the skin of those jurors to understand why uprisings happen. I can easily see why people seek revenge without any conscience. The ambiance is captivating, the plot is pulling.

One of the great opening lines in fiction that begins with: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times . . .” Sydney Carton is a lawyer in London at the time of the French Revolution. He takes on the case of Doctor Manette, released from imprisonment at the Bastille to live in exile in London with his daughter Lucie.

Returning to France, Dr. Manette is subsequently accused of being a spy for the British government and is sentenced to death. Sydney’s love for Lucie causes him to make the ultimate sacrifice to save Lucie’s father from the guillotine.

This is a gripping, wide-ranging, and detailed study of the explosive years of ‘the Terror’. Andress ranges far beyond the claustrophobic assemblies, clubs, and streets of Paris to show the country-wide impact of war, revolution, and terror. Andress has little time for revolutionary idealism, and there are no heroes in this book. His deep knowledge of his subject shines out from every page. The result is a vivid and disturbing account, dense, lively, and well-written. 

Anouilh shapes his play in parallel reference to two of the most traumatic periods in French history: the immediate aftermath of the 1945 Liberation and the end of the Terror with the death of Robespierre. In post-war France, a group of friends hit on a plan to explore what twisted logic shapes the individual who gets caught up in the violence of oppression. They invite a local man, one Bitos, to attend a masked dinner where each of the guests will take on the role of a prominent figure of the Revolution, Bitos himself, who has greatly profited by collaboration with the occupiers, to take on that of Robespierre, whom Thomas Carlyle referred in his magisterial History of the French Revolution as the ‘sea-green incorruptible’, from the tinted spectacles he wore.

Carlyle’s prose is lush, baroque, strong meat but well worth dipping into. The idea is brilliant as a vehicle… show more.

Blanc discovered in the National Archives in Paris a remarkable cache of letters kept in an old tin labelled as the property of Fouquier-Tinville, the Public Prosecutor of the French revolutionary Tribunal. He was a man who in sending off the last batch of victims to be beheaded, even after hearing that Robespierre was dead and with him, the Terror, said ‘justice must run its course’

The letters, written by prisoners on the eve of their own execution, to wife, family, plangent pleas to be remembered – some containing a little keepsake: a shirt stud, maybe – were never delivered, but, on Fouquier’s order, impounded as possible evidence. Post mortem? What was the point? The letters are heart-rending, sad, pathetic, drained of hope, but as poignant a souvenir of the effect of the vicious law which was sending their authors to the scaffold as any you will read. Fouquier, whose… show more.