The most recommended books on the British Empire

One of the first European accounts of Congo, I read this book for my PhD, studying under the British author and journalist Giles Foden.

Pigafetta's account helped me understand the lenses—often colonial, of exoticism, fear, and wonder—through which Congo and Central Africans have long been perceived by Europeans and the world.

Pigafetta writes of Africa as the unknown, the dark, the frightening and mysterious, ideas still present in the news we consume today. I had often wondered why certain stories I pitch never get published, while others are easy sells.

The answers are rooted in events centuries ago, and it's easy to see that when we decide to take a look.

This is Eliot’s last novel about an ostensible British aristocrat’s journey to uncovering his real identity. Often referred to as Eliot’s “Jewish novel,” it reflects her unerring ability to empathize with the Other. It is very long but also un-put-downable, with two interwoven plots that complement each other masterfully. It’s at once a conventional 19th-century novel and an entirely original and surprising take on the genre. As a Jew with a love of nineteenth-century British novels, this one spoke to me most powerfully.

This is a riveting account of the abolition of slavery in the British Empire and biography of abolitionist Thomas Clarkson. Clarkson committed himself to ending the slave trade in 1785 and pursued this objective until his final speeches in the 1840s. The book is an incredible lesson in persistence and perseverance, as Hochschild follows the advancement and setbacks of a century-long social movement. While racial domination and modern slavery are still very real, abolition represented the awakening of global civil society, and a significant transformation toward a socially just global economy. For anyone feeling a lack of hope about change, there is real inspiration here. 

The late politician Lord Jenkins made a name for himself with his political biographies. Churchill: A Life was the culmination of a critically successful career as a writer. Jenkins leaves no stone unturned in assessing Churchill’s thirst for political glory. Andrew Roberts called the book ‘a masterpiece.’

I studied with Jane Kamensky while I was working on a MA in American History. Little did I know that she had a wicked historical character hidden inside. Learning that inspired me to write good history inside a realistic and sexy historical plot. This is a story of hidden identity and unexpected love. 

The characters are a portrait artist and his apprentice. The apprentice appears to be a young man, as only young men would take such a position in 18th-century Boston, and the artist is surprised at his yearning for him. 

This is a big book, thoroughly researched but accessibly written. Morris has a military background and sees things from a strategic perspective. He wrote this book at almost the same time as Ritter’s biography of Shaka but his focus was subtly different. He seeks to evaluate not just Shaka’s nation-building but what followed, most especially the Anglo-Zulu war that culminated in the destruction of the Zulu military at Isandhlwana. As such, this book serves as a perfect companion piece to Ritter’s work. I enjoyed the immersive nature of Morris’s account as it spanned most of the nineteenth century. It gives telling insights into the British Empire’s strengths and weaknesses and does the same for the Zulu state that built on Shaka’s innovations. This book helped me set Shaka’s story in a wider context and for that alone it deserves a place on this list.

I love this description of the power that the Arthurian legends exerted in nineteenth-century Britain and its cultural imagination.

With the re-printing of Thomas Malory’s Morte Darthur, poets, writers, and artists were inspired by these tales of chivalry and sacrifice at a time when the British Empire was at its height and ideals of service, governance, and personal endeavour were central to norms of masculinity.

Girouard perfectly captures the mood of the times and shows us why the vision of Camelot, doomed in its own Arthurian context, was even more flawed, and yet magnetic, in the context of empire.

New Amsterdam is a collection of noir detective fantasy set in an alternate New World with sorcery, magical creatures, and terrifying evil.

The main character is a fallen figure, Abigail Garrett, who self-medicates with booze while trying to fulfill her duties as a forensic sorceress. She investigates heinous crimes with a voice and motivation that I absolutely loved. Add to this character and world a scenario similar to Murder on the Orient Express and I had to pick this one up.

Abigail is not Hercule Poirot – she’s much more interesting. Her motivations and resigned duty resonated with me and I loved the textured world she inhabited. Fun alternate history with very interesting magic and setting.

Flashman does a thing I love, which is to tell the story of another book's least notable character.

Harry Flashman comes from Thomas Hughes's 1850 novel Tom Brown's School Days (the entire basis for the Harry Potter novels), where he's a sub-Draco Malfo figure, a useless bully.

Flashman tells the story of his later years as the Victorian Empire's most cowardly soldier, rattling around British colonies, stumbling through their various atrocities and debacles. I wish the book were even harsher on the Brits, but it's a deeply fun counter-text and a lovely bit of escapism nonetheless.

This is a brilliantly written book about how Britain was built from its empire. It explodes the myths and takes the shine off the glorious empire and brings some of its darker aspects into a brighter light.

Sanghera’s account is well-researched, and both wide-ranging and personal. It fills in some of the gaps skipped over in my school’s history classes and gives context to some of the events, places and people I had heard of only fleetingly in the past. It is a surprisingly short book for a subject so vast. It made me want to find out more.