100 Books Like The Vanished Days

I adored this book because it gives us a peek into the early life of Chinese Empress Wu. Weina Dai Randel did her homework, and her words absolutely blossomed in ancient China.

With an extremely sympathetic young protagonist who rises to be a force in the Emperor’s court, this book captivated me. I also remember it as being rather romantic in its way.

The very name “Zanzibar” has a sort of magic to it—and I certainly fell under its spell when I read M.M. Kaye’s book for what would be the first of many, many times back in the 80s.

I had never heard of Zanzibar; I knew nothing of the ruling family, the Sayyids of Muscat and Oman, but by the time I was a hundred pages into M.M. Kaye’s epic story of an American woman who plunges into intrigues she thinks she understands but doesn’t, I felt I knew them all intimately. This book is a coming-of-age story, a brilliant evocation of place, and so much more.

England is hardly an unusual place for historical fiction, but 7th-century England is entirely different. Wolf takes you to an England where the Saxons are holding court at Winchester while the remnants of Romanized Britain are desperately trying to organize resistance from their decaying villas. It’s a view of an England in flux, broken into small, warring kingdoms—told from the viewpoint of a British princess, Nan, married off to a Saxon prince. But Nan is no wilting violet and her story is one I still re-read again and again.

Born of the Sun is a beautiful interweaving of place and character and a bold attempt to reconstruct lives that have left little mark on the historical record.

I don’t know about you, but when I learned history in elementary school, we skipped straight from Ancient Greece and Rome to the Norman Conquest with the briefest of nods at Byzantium to acknowledge there was something in between. It was all very simple and straightforward—and completely left out the crumbling kingdoms left behind in the wake of the fall of Alexander the Great’s Empire.

I can still remember opening Gillian Bradshaw’s Horses of Heaven for the first time and thinking, “What’s Ferghana? Or Bactra?”  Gillian Bradshaw wrote a number of books set in the wake of Alexander’s empire, but this one is the one that really stuck with me, told through the eyes of a girl picked to go as attendant to a Greek aristocrat from Bactra being married to King Mauakes of Ferghana (now Afghanistan).

Steven J. Reid’s comprehensive study of James’s youth and rise to real power is as well-researched as it is readable. Most people are only familiar with the older James when he was king of England—the tired stereotype of the doddering, prematurely-aged old king.

But his early life and reign in Scotland were fraught with drama and high politics–all of which helped make James James.

Caroline Bingham is one of the forgotten titans of Scottish popular nonfiction. From the 1970s to the 1980s (she sadly died young in 1998), she produced a multitude of books covering the lives of various Scottish monarchs.

Her books (although research has moved on quite a bit) are beautifully and sensitively written and her two books on James (she wrote one on his life in Scotland and then one on his life in England) are sparkling. 

This book stayed with me long after I finished it.

What gripped me most was the way Signe Pike gave Languoreth fierce humanity, a woman, well, a girl, who was given to royal marriage, had a good husband, yet, for all her childish love affair, still took on a lover. This story pitted family against family, friend against friend, in the political upheaval of Christianity against paganism.

I felt Pike captured Languoreth's torn heart beautifully, with every unfairness to every heart entwined in her decisions. I also appreciated the deep dive into the Arthurian historicity of the story in the author's note at the end.

Note: The story does end on a cliffhanger.

There have been too many novels featuring the story of King Arthur to count; this is my favorite. I found it (and the following two books in the series) really captured the idea of who Arthur was, why he was needed, and why he did what he did at the time for me.

It was the first Cornwell novel I read, and he has become my favourite novellist. I think he writes battle scenes better than anyone–he puts you in the middle of the action and makes you feel the visceral nature of combat (especially in his Arthurian and medieval books). If anyone is looking for a place to start with Arthurian fiction but doesn’t know where to begin, I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend this book and series. 

This was my first introduction to Sanderson’s work, and I knew within a few pages that we were going to be a good fit. I’d just gotten off of reading through Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire, and the “multiple POVs” angle of the book was a big pull for me.

The frankly bizarre world of the book (and the series of which this is book 1, The Stormlight Archive) was so full of strange creatures and patterns–so studded with interesting, resourceful characters–that I couldn’t put it down over the course of days to finish it.

This is another two-for-one book! It is a historical fiction about the life of Alexander the Great, told by his male lover, Bagoas. But it was written in 1972, only five years after the decriminalization of homosexuality in the UK. Bagoas is a nuanced character; he is frank about the nature of his love for Alexander the Great, and there are even a few sex scenes! As I read it, I couldn’t help reflecting on how groundbreaking this must have seemed in the context of the 1970s. 

Mary Renault is a very interesting figure in her own right. She was undoubtedly queer and lived with her partner for over 50 years. There are relatively few women in her novels, and many of them are unflatteringly depicted. Renault eschewed the label of ‘lesbian,’ was uncomfortable with the early gay pride movement, and is said to have told people that she wished… show more.