The best books to fight fake history

While researching early English history for my own book, I came to the miserable conclusion that I would first have to read Bede’s. To be honest the thought of paint drying had more allure. Yet, when I did finally buckle down to read (what is in fact five books) it was a complete revelation. Bede takes the reader on a very entertaining ride through early English history but it is much more than that. Indeed, the most striking thing about the work is its obsession with detail and accuracy. Drawing on the extensive library at Jarrow, Bede made a huge effort to ‘get it right’. Yes, there are biases and yes there are some curious obsessions, but in fighting fake news and fake history this 8th-century masterpiece remains an example to us all.   

Perhaps the finest and least well-known novel to come out of the First World War. Imagist poet Richard Aldington takes his own experiences of the home and Western Fronts and turns both barrels on the sanctimony of Edwardian society and its parade of sycophants, socialites, and fools. Unusually, it is a book by a poet that resists turning war into poetry. Unafraid to use realistically coarse military language, it divided the critics at the time and has divided readers ever since. It is a howl of rage that speaks across the century, a timeless reminder that there is no romance in the needless carnage of war.

If ever there was a book that should be read for all the wrong reasons, then H.E. Marshall’s bizarre children’s book is it. Once a standard text on Edwardian nursery shelves this ‘storybook’ of English history typifies all that is wrong with Britain’s backward-looking, exceptional view of itself. Starting with the tale of how Brutus of Troy tossed some giants off the white cliffs at Dover (yes really!) and ending in 1905, the book sets out an inevitable narrative arc of British top-doggery while plagiarising Shakespeare’s plays and passing them off as history along the way. In any sane country it would be a curiosity but in 2008 it was reprinted by the Civitas think tank and has been promoted by Conservative politicians ever since on that basis that ‘this is the way to teach British history.’ There's a case, set out in my own book, that Marshall did more than anyone to inform the culture wars of our age.

Harry Cole was a criminal who grew up in an East London slum. In 1939 and fresh out of prison he enlisted in the army, before absconding with the mess fund. As France fell, he had a shot at redemption—and having been left behind after the evacuation at Dunkirk, set about organising escape lines. His ability to outwit the enemy made him a star of the various resistance and special operations networks, but shortly after capture in 1941 he began to betray every contact he had made in France.

Murphy’s book is unlike any other wartime biography. It plays out like a gripping piece of fiction. It shows too that while we might comfort ourselves ‘we’ were the good guys in WW2—we had plenty of very bad guys among us. Makes you look at WW2 through a different prism.

This very short book is a miniature masterpiece. Though written in 1976, it is startling in its relevance to our age and times setting out the five principles of stupidity and why they matter. Without ruining the book for you, Cipolla’s central thesis is that ‘stupidity’ exists in the same quantity throughout all tiers of society. So, you have the same degree of stupid authors as stupid barristers, doctors, tree surgeons, and plumbers and that this is unfortunate because: “a stupid person is the most dangerous kind of person.” Ultimately the book explains why, throughout history, we have elevated stupid people to fame and power. And boy isn’t it necessary to understand that one in our age.