The Best books to show you why medieval isn’t an insult

This was the first book to open my eyes to the strangeness and sophistication of medieval life. To an English reader, its focus on the European Middle Ages is revelatory, as is its concentration on writers and travellers rather than kings and knights. At the time he wrote the book, the brilliant Richard Southern was hospitalized with tuberculosis. The book seems to be a distillation of a lifelong passion, which, fortunately, he was able to pursue for another four decades.

What goes up must come down: the Dutch polymath Huizinga describes the gradual breakdown of a civilization that had presided over Europe for five hundred years (the book was for years known as The Waning of the Middle Ages). Huizinga, like Southern, had lived through the Second World War and seen civilizations fall apart. His poetic take on the histrionics of late-medieval life has not always convinced scholars, but readers like me have rightly been entranced. The newest translation is a beautiful coffee-table book, making gorgeous use of Huizinga’s immersion in the artistic and architectural world he evokes so memorably.

One of the great thrills of researching medieval history is getting the chance to handle original documents up close, as I have had the good fortune to do a few times. Christophe de Hamel is a palaeographer, a manuscripts expert who has travelled the world to examine some of the most precious handwritten works that still survive. As his title hints, De Hamel treats these artefacts as personalities, and his no-nonsense decipherment of priceless treasures is like listening in on a wise and witty conversation.

Bit of a cheat: four books in one. Researching the Wars of the Roses can often mean separating fact from fiction. When it comes to historical fiction on the Wars, authors have a tendency to impose their own theories on the facts and to ladle on the violence. The Wars were horribly violent at times, without question, and Toby Clements’s dazzling novels, which follow the fortunes of two outcasts, Thomas and Katherine, do not shy away from that. But these novels also focus on the humanity caught up in great events, to unforgettable effect.

I blame Dan Brown, but mention the Templars and you are usually met with a glazed look, as if you’re about to share your favourite conspiracy theory. William Watson’s book is a class, if not a universe, apart from Brown and co. It is an almost unbearably vivid re-creation of the world of the crusader kingdoms, and the corruption at the heart of Europe that first sustained and then destroyed their knightly protectors. In spare, unshowy prose, Watson demonstrates the darker side of the Middle Ages, in all its forbidding glory.