Books like The Witches of Vardo

I love this book’s two freedom fighters: the historical Sarah Grimké and the fictional enslaved woman Handful.

It’s the early 1800s in Charleston, SC. Privileged white girl Sarah bucks cultural expectations for women, while Handful fights the cruel slavery system. Sarah repudiates her upbringing in order to support abolition, and Handful stakes everything in pursuit of freedom, “to leave or die trying.”

I loved learning about the Grimké sisters, giants in the abolition movement, and the West African story-quilt tradition, whereby women tell their lives through the art of needlework. This book was transformative for me; Sarah’s and Handful’s transgressive courage has helped me through difficult times of my own. If they could face their obstacles, then by golly, I can face mine.

I loved this historical work about the real-life story of Ellen Craft, a young slave with a light complexion who escapes from the South with her partner, William, a slave of a darker complexion. The difficult voyage on a boat going north in which Ellen, who is impersonating a young white master traveling with his male slave, must converse with the white men on board as though she were one of them kept me in a state of high anxiety.

I prayed that she would succeed, agonizing over every difficult moment that could have aroused suspicions, internalizing the heroine’s terror and resolve. I loved the gripping prose and psychological insight of this author who has restored the voice of a remarkable woman who played an important role in the abolitionist movement. 

I was fascinated by this story of how a courageous young girl abandoned by her parents managed to survive during the Great Depression in rural Michigan. I felt a motherly concern for the heroine who not only confronts people’s reluctance to help a girl from a “trashy” family but also popular prejudices underestimating the potential of young women and consigning them to limited roles in society.

As if this were not enough, she must evade child-trafficking schemes! I loved the dramatic twists in the plot as well as the personal growth the heroine demonstrates as she struggles against formidable odds.

I loved the way the author alternates from the points of view of two young women in Minnesota, Oenikika, a Dakota Indian, and Emma, a white settler, giving me new insight into the limitations imposed on women by two very different patriarchal cultures. I identified with the heroines’ struggles to find a mission in life beyond marriage and motherhood, sympathizing with Emma’s desire to become a teacher and Oenikika’s quest for recognition as a healer.

Although the terrible events of the 1862 war between native Indians and white settlers were deeply disturbing, I was inspired by the way in which individual men and women on both sides recognized the humanity of the enemy, intervening to prevent the rape and murder of civilians and to challenge unfair trials of the innocent. 

This book is for slightly younger readers, but I think it has genuine multi-generational appeal. I read it aloud to my eight-year-old, who laughed aloud and loved it – in fact, it was the first read-aloud chapter book that he stuck with. And his grandmother is also reading and loving it! Astrid has the feel of a classic, with its humor and its gentle wisdom. Though it’s a story about a feisty girl who loves sledding, it’s also a story about how someone you love can keep a hurtful secret. How does one forgive such a thing? Astrid figures it out. 

Weary of people asking him what his plans for the future are, eighteen-year-old Dutch teen Tycho decides to travel from his Holland home to America to work at a camp for international kids. Along the way, he meets Oliver, who’s from Norway, and is also going to work at the camp. The two quickly become fast friends and then something more. When their love relationship is discovered, they’re expelled from the camp, and the two fly back to Norway where Tycho will stay with Oliver while the boy’s mother is gone. No, there are no wild parties, just a lovely examination of an emerging relationship that is challenged by Oliver’s keeping a closely guarded secret. If this sounds dull, trust me, it isn’t! Find out why I’m so crazy about this book by reading it. Tell them Michael sent you...

Ruth Maier was a Jew born in Germany. Kristallnacht, an infamous Nazi pogrom, took place in 1938. Ruth was able to flee to Norway shortly thereafter.

She soon became fluent in Norwegian, finished high school, and began her university studies. However, the Germans occupied Norway in 1940. She, therefore, lived in constant fear of being arrested and kept a very detailed diary of how she lived through these two dangerous years. She was then arrested in 1942 at age 22 and deported to Auschwitz, where she was immediately put to death. 

As a lover of folk-tale, legend, and myth—and having an especial love for Norse Myth—I soon sought out the folk-tales of Norway.

Asbjorsen and Moe are the Norwegian answer to the Brothers Grimm. Their collection is superb. There’s the Ash-Lad, who is rather like Jack of Beanstalk fame, and many trolls. There are twelve princes searching for twelve lost princesses, helpful griffins, abandoned babies, and ancient Norse gods pitching up in thin disguise.

And, of course, as the people who told these tales lived between mountains, sky, and sea, there are many tales of animals and birds.

The Twelfth Man by Norwegian-American writer Astrid Karlsen Scott is the dramatic story of Norwegian agent Jan Baalsrud’s survival after a SOE mission gone wrong. A first account of his ordeal was published in 1955, but this is a more accurate telling. I like her in-depth approach to uncovering the true facts. On one of her research trips to Norway, she teamed up with Dr. Tore Haug who was also investigating Baalsrud’s story of survival. They were able to meet and interview all the survivors who helped the agent or who were indirectly involved and had knowledge of his story. You not only see what is at stake for the hero of the story, but for the people who are helping him escape the Nazis’ search for him. 

I love cold, northern places and dogs, and, if you haven’t already noticed, warts-and-all stories about women finding strength they didn’t know they had in the wilderness. Blair Braverman’s memoir checks all these boxes. As a teenager, she goes to a folk school in the Norwegian Arctic and learns to work with sled dogs, something she later continues as a guide in Alaska. (Braverman is now a professional musher and has run the Iditarod.) The book’s subtitle is Chasing Fear and Finding Home In the Great White North, and Braverman is unsparing in her exploration of fear rooted in both the human and natural world. I read this book on a series of airplanes in one long travel day, and I’m still reminded of it every time I see Braverman’s delightful Twitter stories about her dogs.