Books like Liberty's Exiles — picked by fans

Reading Independence Lost made the American Revolution, something I’d been studying and teaching about for twenty years, feel startlingly new—and I recommend it to everyone so they can feel its magic for themselves.

It’s no wonder it won so many prizes! What’s captivating is how deftly Kathleen DuVal shifts the focus away from the familiar sites in Boston and Philadelphia to the Gulf Coast, revealing a world of Native nations, Spanish governors, free Black strivers, and Creole merchants all swept up in their own fights for independence—and all defining ‘independence’ differently. 

I love Epic Journeys of Freedom because the Australian historian Cassandra Pybus follows some of the most extraordinary lives I’ve ever encountered in history—and she tracks them to the ends of the earth.

The scope of this book is just breathtaking. Cassandra traces the odyssey of Black Americans like Harry Washington, who escaped slavery (at George Washington’s Mount Vernon), fought for their freedom, and found their way first to British Canada and eventually to Sierra Leone in West Africa.

If you want to see why historians love their jobs—how we get to be both detective and time traveler then this is the book for you.

I love Hessians because Friederike Baer takes what’s normally a footnote into the history of the American Revolution—the role of German soldiers hired by King George to fight alongside the redcoats—and puts them center stage.

The result completely upended my picture of the American Revolution, and I was dazzled by Friederike’s ability to restore depth and humanity to those so often dismissed as faceless “mercenaries.” I love how she traces their experiences—from the battlefields to the quiet, uncertain years after the war—with such care and empathy.

Reading Hessians felt like meeting the Revolution’s most feared bogeymen—and finally hearing them speak.

This is probably the most obscure book on this list, but it’s also one of the absolute best.

I knew little about the topic—the fate of Britain’s convicts during and after the American Revolution—but it grabbed me by the collar and refused to let go.

Full of empathy and precision, Emma Christopher takes us into the bowels of Britain’s penal world, and I love how she turns what could’ve been a grim topic—convict transportation, punishment, exile—into a deeply human saga of endurance, injustice, incompetence, and improvisation that ranges from Virginia to Africa to Australia. 

It’s a short book with 5 essays on displacement, loss, and ways to find a sense of belonging. The stories are personal; perhaps because of that, they touch on something that I think many of us carry in our hearts–a need to reflect on what it means to lose and rebuild a home.

The essays evoke many different themes–the power of movement and starting anew, but also a sense of alienation that even the voluntary wanderers may never lose. We carry the cultures that shaped us within us; as Eva Hoffman, one of the authors, says, “We are nothing more than the encoded memory of our heritage.” And feeling, even if a blessing, sometimes deepens our sense of alienation.

For many of the authors, it’s the language and writing that make sense of the discomfort and find a ‘home.’ It’s a small but beautifully written book and one that inspires… show more.

Even though this love story is set in very tragic times–The Spanish Civil War and the troubles in Chile–we follow the journey of two refugees, Victor and Rose, whose forced marriage gradually deepens into true love.

The author, herself an immigrant in the USA, meaningfully draws out questions facing so many migrants and refugees: Where do I belong? Where are my roots? Is my heart divided, or has it grown bigger?

Easily one of my favorite epic fantasies I’ve read in recent years. The complexity of Gillian’s world is a highlight, yet she still makes the story and those within it accessible for her readers. It felt deep, not cluttered. She writes distinctly and with heart from three different points of view. I couldn’t flip pages fast enough, anxious for the moment these three story threads would intersect. It was more than worth the wait. 

How is a person like a novel? Both, at their core, are made of stories. Both, at their core, are the way in which various stories are imagined to hang together. But the nexus of stories at the core of a person is written in the brain (wordlessness), which is always in flux, changeable, and incomplete, forever before words and on the verge of being totally lost.

The nexus of stories at the core of a novel, on the other hand, is written in nothing other than words; as such, it makes manifest a disembodied, complete (i.e., fictive) person—a person invulnerable to death. A novel is what a person is forever wanting to turn into.  

Patenaude focuses just on the Mexican period, from January 1937 to August 1940, of Trotsky’s exile, although the previous stages of his exile — Kazakhstan in 1928, then Turkey for four years, France for another three, followed by interment in Norway — are dealt with in a series of flashbacks. In fact, the whole book is written as if Trotsky in Coyoacán were recalling his past, from his prosperous farmer’s boyhood to his underground militancy, his Civil War military brilliance, and his blundering incompetence as a Bolshevik power-broker. The danger that Patenaude flirts with is to let Trotsky’s charisma and undoubted genius charm him into overlooking his subject’s monstrous indifference to the suffering and deaths of others, sometimes even of those close to him, as well as his overweening conceit.

By dealing with the last phase of the tragedy, nemesis, Trotsky is seen to pay in fear, resignation, failure, and… show more.

I love the movie and musical adaptations of Anastasia, so it’s no wonder I love this magical family saga from Nadine Brandes. Brandes effortlessly weaves magic into the tale we thought we knew about Anastasia Romanov. And yes, there is both magic and romance.

With the leader of the Bolshevik army after her, Anastasia “Nastya” Romanov is given a mission to smuggle an ancient spell that might be her family’s only salvation into exile in Siberia. Nastya has barely dabbled in magic, but her only chances of saving herself and her family are to release the spell and deal with the consequences, or to enlist help from Zash, the handsome Bolshevik soldier who seems to be different. This story does contain violence, but overall is another read I both love and could recommend to anyone.