Maximilien Robespierre will always be associated in people’s minds with ‘the Terror’. In reality, he was not a dictator, but one of a group of committed revolutionaries in the National Convention. Within hours of his execution in July 1794 a myth began to circulate that he had been the sole mastermind behind ‘the Terror’. This myth was a way of exculpating the men who had also backed terror during the crisis of the ‘Year II’. Afterward, it was so much simpler for them to lay all the blame onto Robespierre. McPhee’s profound knowledge of the Revolution enables him to situate Robespierre in his context, showing not just how Robespierre affected the course of the Revolution, but how the Revolution changed Robespierre. This is simply by far the best recent study in English of Robespierre’s life.

I’m passionate about writing well-researched history which appeals to the general reader and endeavours to present compelling, authentic pictures of times past. Hutton’s book was a great help in understanding the religious and secular festivals which were celebrated by Dame Alice, her peers, and workers, on the days when she served high-status food at her dinner table. Together they appear to have enjoyed many traditional rituals, like Candlemas, Plough days, and the Harvest festival.

Here’s one example: Hutton emphasizes New Year’s Day was important for gift-giving and feasting: on January 1st, 1413 Dame Alice bought gloves and rings for her staff and fed over 300 people at her Suffolk home on hog roast, swan, mutton, and rabbit. A harper was also in attendance so, presumably, there was dancing and merriment too.

Although my novel is set mainly on the home front, it starts in no man’s land and the trenches and returns to the front a few more times to demonstrate how close the links were between the home and war fronts. I wanted these passages to be realistic and needed facts, details, and knowledge from which to write.

I read John Lewis-Stempel’s meticulously researched book because it focuses on the experiences of Subalterns—young men who were made officers while they were often still at school. I found it moving, harrowing, and shocking—a book that stayed with me because it showed the impossibility of performing that role and surviving more than a few weeks. It proved invaluable for the first chapter of the book which is entitled The Subaltern.

Although this is my final recommendation, this book is where my interest in the topic of memory and the political, intellectual, and social development of postwar Europe began. As an undergraduate student at Dartmouth College, I had the opportunity to assist my advisor, Ned Lebow, with the preparation of this volume. Following a short theoretical introduction to the paradigm of collective memory, this collection then presents chapters on the specific dynamics of the politics of remembrance in various European states written by local country specialists. This is both a great read and a great resource for further information on the dynamics of postwar memory across the continent.

With a narrative of just over 650 pages, this is the book for the reader out there who wants it all: the names, the dates, the facts, the figures, the individual experience, and the analysis, all wrapped up in an engrossing, readable narrative. Friedländer’s impeccable scholarship speaks to the historian in me, but, more importantly, it speaks to the humanity in me.  When I sat down to read this second volume, I wasn’t struck by how thick it was. I was struck by the magnitude of tragedy that the book represented. For the reader who has read widely on the Holocaust, in particular, this book will answer many of your questions. What appeals to me most, though, is the historical data never obscures the victims or their experiences.      

To my mind, James Campbell was the greatest commentator on early Anglo-Saxon England of the last sixty years.

He was my tutor at Oxford for a course on early Anglo-Saxon history and archaeology, and he inspired me to recognise just how much of the so-called “Dark Ages” can be brought to light via a combination of rigour in analysis and creativity in reconstruction.

Campbell’s seminal articles on Bede’s Ecclesiastical History, included in this edited collection, transformed Bedan studies and set out the path forward for the next generation of scholars, although much more remains to be done – particularly in connection with identifying Bede’s sources and unpacking the chronology of the composition of his History.

If you want to understand the conversion of Anglo-Saxon England, you need to understand Bede’s Ecclesiastical History; and if you want to understand Bede’s Ecclesiastical History, you have to understand Bede. The quest will… show more.

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 to read books about women travelers whose lives take an unusual path. Lucia Graves is the daughter of poet Robert Graves and his second wife. Her parents moved to Majorca after World War II, and their daughter—like many ex-pats—had to bridge the cultures between the land of her birth, England, and the land of her heart, Spain.

She was raised in a Bohemian household but educated in the strict Catholic schools of Franco’s Spain. Her book A Woman Unknown explores the sense of dislocation and disorientation of her bifurcated life. “I found myself creating an imaginary land where I spent much of my time.”

I was fortunate enough to be able to share a pint with Malachy McCourt some time ago at The Plough & the Stars in Philadelphia where he was promoting this book.

A delightfully true Irishman, he was full of fatalist humor and irony, bringing to mind the famous quote by G.K. Chesterton from his epic poem The Ballad of the White Horse:

“The great Gaels of Ireland are the men that God made mad,
For all their wars are merry, and all their songs are sad.”

And “Danny Boy” is truly a sad song, but there is one enormous flaw regarding its Irishness: it was written by an Englishman who never set foot in Ireland. Frederick Wetherly, a barrister by day, and a lyricist by night, was asked by his sister-in-law to put words to a beautiful tune she had heard. He did, and the song became an enormous hit.… show more.

This is a very unusual, non-fiction book. James Crawford travelled around Scotland explorable lost and forgotten structures (man made and natural) that had a function in the past. These range from Viking shipyards, through massive water dams and lime kilns to walls built to coral herds of deer. Each of the structures is presented as a puzzle or a mystery, and the purposed of each is slowly revealed in clear and engaging writing style. The photography is also excellent