100 books like Dawnlands

I enjoyed commenting on early drafts of this dramatic Georgian historical fiction written by my wife Elizabeth about her great-great-great-grandmother: painstakingly researched and vividly portrayed, it’s about love, betrayal, and survival. Lucy, strong-willed daughter of English landed gentry, born in the late 18th century, married Sam Lord, a plantation owner and fortune hunter from Barbados, at a time when women were their husband’s chattels with no rights even over the children. Abused and imprisoned by him in Barbados, she escaped with the help of enslaved people after giving birth at sea, braving disease and cruelty, and witnessing the abject misery of slavery in her descent from a life of pampered luxury to a struggle for survival in a far-off land.  

I love historical fiction. So lastly, for something a little different - perhaps to read while you are waiting for the cookies to come out of the oven! This novel takes place in Barbados on a colonial sugar plantation in Victorian times. The connection to my topic of cookies? Sugar, of course! I was particularly interested in learning more about the harsh truths of the history of sugar production, at the same time that I was immersed in this gripping family saga.

Pride and Prejudice was only half the story.

This wonderful novel looks at the whole affair from the servants’ points of view. “If Elizabeth Bennet had the washing of her own petticoats, Sarah often thought, she’d most likely be a sight more careful with them.” I love this book.

Love the way the historical domestic details are covered so effortlessly and the emotions explored of those silent characters who watch their “betters”, take messages, serve meals, and endlessly wash clothes!

A year before my own father died, I had read Blake Morrison’s tragicomic memoir about his father. I had marked several passages but the page I had book-marked with a card from a London restaurant contained the following lines: “I’ve become a death bore. I embarrass people at dinner parties with my morbidity. I used to think the world divided between those who have children and those who don’t; now I think it divides between those who have lost a parent and those whose parents are still alive.”

That line haunts me even more powerfully now, and I cannot think of a more true line.

This book is a fascinating insight into the sisters of the 3rd Duke of Richmond and their lives played out among the country houses of England and Ireland. They were all brilliant letter writers, and although they were separated for long periods, kept up a constant correspondence. After reading it, I felt I knew the sisters personally, even though they had lived 250 years ago. It became an instant bestseller when it first came out over twenty years ago and was made into a film, with Julian Fellowes playing the 2nd Duke of Richmond. 

Despite the prominence of the Woodville family throughout the Wars of the Roses, there are few books about any of them. Often references to them are lifted from dubious and unsubstantiated sources and repeated on the internet and, I’m afraid, elsewhere too, as fact. Few scholars of the period have really given the family close scrutiny but that is what Susan Higginbotham has done. She has truly lifted a veil from the Woodvilles and her book is essential reading for anyone who wants an unbiased take on this very important group of people.

This book starts with the gorgeous Ali Stinson going from riches to rags. Things aren’t looking good for her until she meets handsome blond bartender Sam. There are surprises throughout the story, a playboy ex-husband who creates mischief, and thrilling twists leading to a memorable ending. There’s more to Ali and Sam than who you meet at first glance. Strong women are my thing and she’s smart—very smart—with a spine made of titanium. Sam is more than just a hot bartender by the pool. He has a secret too. And yes, the bedroom scenes are full of steam. Did the book thrill me? Yes, very much!

I loved this book because it ties in with an obsession of mine, the interface between modernity and the past.

It is the autobiography of Edmund Gosse, who grew up with strict, devout parents (even by mid-19th-century standards). However, the father was a biologist just at the time Darwin’s Origin of Species was published. I was intrigued by Gosse’s growing awareness that his parents’ worldview was so out of sync with the times, just as I was fascinated by the father’s anguish as his faith pulled him one way and his reason another.

Gosse’s description of the passing of a world is so entrancing (even from today’s perspective), yet the closeness (and neurosis) of family bonds is endearingly the same.

The summer before starting my first year of university, I went in search of historical fiction that was accurate enough to help prepare me for the module I was going to take about medieval Britain. Meticulously researched and packed full of detail that brings historical scenery and relationships to life, Devil’s Brood was the perfect starting point. It is a book that I have read and enjoyed three or four times, and each time, I have discovered new passages that made me put the book down on my pillow and stare blankly at the wall for a few seconds, pondering what I just read. In addition, this thrilling account of the early Plantagenets is the first (albeit independent) part of a series, so if you get as hooked as I did, there’s more to be had!

In 1940 London, Maggie Hope, a brilliant mind who graduated top of her class, is recruited by Number 10 Downing Street to be…a typist. Of course. She’s a woman. She’s also a crackerjack code breaker. I think you know where this is going. The character is wonderful, the writing strong, the story tight. A highlight for me was when Maggie –a young, virginal, cerebral type—pulls off a daring motorcycle jump with a man on the back because she has to. I don’t know, I think there’s a life lesson somewhere in there.