The most recommended books on cathedrals

Elizabeth Goudge’s novels have a touch of magic about them.

Set in the 1870s, in an English town, dominated by a great cathedral, it's the story of an unlikely friendship between an obscure watchmaker and the mighty but shy Dean Ayscough which touches and shapes the lives of many people. A novel peopled by characters that are hard to forget.

Not all treasure is gold—in Map of Bones, one of Rollins’ many excellent novels, it is bones. Ancient bones. In the aftermath of a horrific crime, the bones of the Three Magi are stolen from a German cathedral. A Vatican investigator and an American covert operative chase the thieves—an ancient cult of assassins—across two continents to recover the relics. Map of Bones is especially appealing to me, being a sucker for historic or exotic settings with which I’m familiar. Rollins’ books are all page-turners, fast-paced and compelling, and the Sigma Force series is perfect for those of us who love heroes who can extricate themselves from any predicament. I like my hero complex, yes. Sexy, yes. But above all, really, really good at what he does. 

Despite his success as a spy/thriller novelist, Ken Follett had trouble finding a publisher when he tried his hand at historical fiction. Fortunately, he persisted and published this book, which outsold every novel he'd ever written.

When it was first released, my wife refused to let me read it as I was in the midst of writing my own book. “It’s too similar to your story,” she said. It may throw you off.” Although set several centuries after my book's story, the world had changed little and featured similar conflicts between pagans and the church. Where my book tells the story of what happens to Charles Martel's family upon his death, Pillars tells the story of Britain after the loss of a host of nobles, including the heir to the British throne, on a boat that sank in the English Channel. 

It's a great book, a fun read, and it… show more.

Every work I’ve read by Carver reminds me of his singular gift; others may write in the same vein by creating stories with characters whose cigarettes and drinks lure them deeper into their desperation. But these writers, however good, lack the gift, the blood, to run so deeply that, well, one line in and you’re haunted. This particular collection contains my two favorite Carver stories: “Cathedral” and “A Small, Good Thing.” Indeed, in everyday conversation, I often use the phrase a small, good thing – as if everyone knows the story.

We love all of David Macauley’s books. He uses hand-drawn black-and-white illustrations to describe the enormous effort and complicated processes involved in building some of the most magnificent structures in the world, from cathedrals to castles to pyramids. Cathedral was his first, and we think the best. Although intended for young readers, there are many builders, engineers, and architects that find wonder in Macauley’s work. 

This is a self-published author, who I’m glad I discovered. The characters she paints are really intriguing and likeable.

I loved how their professions interlinked and the crimes being investigated became a shared mission. The characters bounce off each other well, too. The criminal in the book was also fascinating to spend time with and I kept turning the pages to get to the end!

Like Ken Follett’s other books on medieval England, A Column of Fire is easy to read. The plot runs smoothly and quickly in a way that keeps you glued to the book until you finish it. This time he zeros in on the religious turmoil that gripped Tudor England on the death of Queen Mary. Elizabeth’s ascension was challenged by Catholics who wanted to see Mary, Queen of Scots as the rightful heir to the throne, as well as by the king of Spain, who had another score to settle when he sent a massive armada to conquer England. 

A Column of Fire is a novel but it doesn’t stop Follett, a former journalist with a passion for accuracy, from peeking into the lives of even minor characters into corners I was not aware of. I like Follett’s writing style – easy to read, fast-paced with one new character after… show more.

There is so much going on in this book in terms of plot, drama, and relationships, but why I especially love it is because Caris, one of the protagonists, breaks the mold of the typical powerless medieval woman. When the Black Plague comes to Kingsbridge, Caris is the only one who uses observation and common sense to realize that the disease spreads by contact. In a world that revolves around religion and superstition, this doesn’t go over well. Though forced to sacrifice the love of her life, and put on trial as a witch, Caris sticks to her guns and enacts the medical policies she knows will save lives. Eventually, she gains the townspeople’s trust, ultimately ascending into a position of power within the town. Get it, girl!

By its very nature, poetry is about compression. At its best — again, at least to me — a great poem opens up over and over as you read and reread it. It’s a constant journey of discovery. And Northern Ireland’s Philip Larkin, the best English-speaking poet of the 20th century that most Americans have never read, is a master of the compressive arts. I’m recommending his entire Collected Poems here, but if you read only one Larkin poem, make it “Church Going.” In 474 carefully chosen words describing his visit to a mostly abandoned country cathedral, Larkin delivers the equivalent of a 10,000-word treatise on the state of religion in the Western World today.

Golding was living in Salisbury when he wrote The Lord of the Flies, and his day job as a teacher at a local boys' school left a clear imprint on his dystopic view of young men left to their own hierarchical devices. But the classroom also provided a very literal view of the inspiration for The Spire, a dense and disturbing parable in which rationality and physics crumble under evangelical mania and corporal lust. It is the story of Jocelin, Dean of a medieval cathedral, who, obsessed with a divine “vision in stone,” insists that the spire be raised to impossible heights. There is no happy ending in this cautionary tale of construction hubris, yet I return to it regularly in search of solace.