Fans pick 74 books like Le Morte D'Arthur

Arthur Rex tells the same story as Le Morte D’Arthur, but in a radically different way. Where Mallory idolizes the knights and nobles of Arthur’s court, Thomas Berger paints them in the most unflattering light possible. Everyone is a cretin, a sex maniac, or both, and their backwards morals are used as clever mirrors of our own modern moral failings. Arthur Rex is probably the funniest version of the Arthurian Legend that I’ve read. It’s got its tongue firmly lodged in its cheek. Even so, the ending managed to make me cry, so props to Berger for capturing the full range of emotions with this one.

I read this book so many years ago, but it has stayed with me. It struck me then, as it does now, as revolutionary in that it was one of the first retellings of the Arthurian myth from the female perspective.

I took a class on Arthurian Literature in university, and the tales of the period are obviously male-dominated. But The Mists of Avalon showed me a way into the female characters in the tale, and they are fascinating.

Sir Gawaine is one of the most interesting knights of the Round Table because of how imperfect he is. He’s not the strongest knight in the world -- that’s Lancelot -- and he’s definitely not the most virtuous -- that’s Galahad, who sucks -- he’s a working-class joe who routinely gets in over his head because he loves to swing swords more than he likes thinking about consequences. Sir Gawaine and the Green knight is a story of one of the knight’s most famous capers, and it does not disappoint. The original story was written in Old English, which is barely even English to be honest, so you’re going to need a translation to read it, and who better to translate such a story than J.R.R. Tolkien himself. Yes, that Tolkien. When he wasn’t making elves and humans kiss each other, he was a prolific philologist and translator, and The… show more.

Maybe this is cheating, but it’s still a book set during a war, albeit a fantastical one.

But come on: Arthur, Guinevere, Lancelot, Merlin, Nimue, Pellinore, Gawain, Mordred, the Round Table–I may never have read a more powerful scene (or seen such, in the play) as when Arthur cheers for Lancelot to ride and save Guinevere from a fire which Arthur himself set!

Moving, with great, classic prose typical of the time and White’s contemporaries C.S. Lewis and Tolkien. 

I love this series of three short novels enough to have read it more times than I can count. The language of the novel is simple and evocative. I love the main character, a young wizard who starts out as proud, angry and arrogant, but becomes deeply compassionate when his hubris leads him to make a tragic and evil use of magic.

I could feel myself grabbed by the world of the novel, a world of men and dragons, of islands dotted in an endless sea, of powerful mages who interfere at their peril with the precarious balance of the world between good and evil. 

Through the pages of this book, unfolds a tangible reality of the birth and boyhood of Merlin the magician, leading up to his central position in the legend of Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.

As I read, I saw how Stewart wove a story using some accepted historical facts and myths, to create something new and solid. I saw the way Stewart used mystical moments and magical spells to sit above common logic.

Her ability to write in this imaginative way makes her characters more believable. And I do believe it. I have feelings of satisfaction at the end of the book, which inspired me to write my own historical story.

I devoured this book with gusto. I guess we all seek a bit of magic sometimes.

When I read this book some thirty years ago, I had hit a rough patch. I wanted to escape the harsh reality surrounding me. The pages of this Celtic story transported me to a better place. You know the feeling, when fear drives you through heavy fog into the unknown? Once through, the landscape opens to excitement and promise.

Steven Lawhead used wonderful imagery to transport me to a time when warriors and kings held the future; when myths were the reality, and ordinary people became heroes. I want to live in a place where bravery and magic link hands. This is where ‘Song Of Albion’ led me. It’s my past and my future.

Because of my interest in the Iron Age and Celtic roots of Britain, I read this book hoping for insights and understanding on the funerary traditions of our ancestors at that time.

Prof. Alice Roberts has an easy style of writing that draws without sensationalism, and the unpacking of her seven burials helped me to visualise the likely realities of these ancient Brits. This book, like so many of her other books, makes a very professional subject accessible to amateurs like me. I never expected to enjoy reading this as much as I did. I highly recommend this fascinating read.

I love all things Arthuriana, including the many, many times he has been shown on film. This book covers many aspects of how Arthur has been put on screen in fifteen chapters by different scholars. One of the great things about a volume of edited papers like this is that there is still room for you to think about another aspect of the subject not covered inside.

I have been inspired to write several articles based on noticing just such a hole–and of course, coming out in 1991, there have been a plethora of Arthur films and all the interesting points they bring up that this book does not cover. I think reading about film is a fabulous way to look at things with fresh eyes.

This is a vivid, dramatic and well-paced version of the story of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. It is set in a legendary time full of castles such as Tintagel, or as here: "Meanwhile Sir Lancelot had lain six days and six nights prisoned in the vault below Sir Meliagraunce’s castle, and every day there came a maiden who opened the trap and let food and drink down to him on the end of a silken cord. And every day she whispered to him, sweet and tempting…" I love the resonance of Sutcliff’s writing; rereading it just now, I couldn’t resist reading it out loud just for the beauty of the sound of the language—something I’m very conscious of because I write poetry.