82 books like Messenger of Truth

This book is the fascinating story of a Sephardic Jewish emigrant in London who, in the 1660s, was permitted to scribe for a blind rabbi even though she was a woman. The narration flips between Esther Velasquez’s remarkable story and an ailing historian in the 21st century who is trying to determine the identity of the mysterious scribe known to scholars only as “aleph.”

I liked this story because it revealed a fascinating window on how women, and particularly Jewish women, were treated in 17th-century Europe. 

This book blasted a crater in my chest when I read it last year. A complete surprise, as who among us has heard of the Copper Country Strike of 1913-14? Yet it was the first unionized strike in the region, and had a complicated effect on Michigan, the mining industry, and the lives of those who stood up to the rich mine owners. This book gives us such intimate details of the cost of standing up for one’s dignity and safe working conditions that it felt as important as today’s news. From the woman at the heart of the novel to the network of labor unions she pulled together, to the tragedies experienced by this small town, I loved it and cherished the inspiration for today’s fights.

I have a soft spot for characters who find strength by dint of superhuman effort, and the way this fifteen-year-old takes charge after the 1906 earthquake—haltingly, uncertainly, as is only plausible—makes me wish I’d met her.

Her path is steeper than the San Francisco hills, yet her refusal to ask for pity wins me over. I also admire how Edgarian uses her protagonist’s coming of age to represent San Francisco’s, a parallel delivered with a light touch.

But above all, the novel explores the fraught relation between women and power; and how Vera walks that tightrope makes compelling fiction.

Pre-revolution America is not usually my era for historical fiction but when I tell you that this novel grabs you with visceral detail, I mean it. Smells, textures, glares—everything is so vividly told! The resistance in this novel is really simple survival, as the whole New England village seems to have it in for our heroine Ruth. But she stubbornly holds out, trying to forge a path forward for herself. We get treated to some local politics, some ship lore, run-ins with Indigenous Nations (some good, some bad) and local brigands, and always anchored in Ruth’s evolving notions of right and wrong. The ending was also delicious. Think Last of the Mohicans meets Cold Mountain, but with a surprise for our heroine.

I love all of Jacqueline Winspear’s books about Maisie Dobbs and am sorry to see that the author is retiring this character. I liked Maisie from the first, maybe because the 1920s are an era of fascination for me.

Not only was the mystery a good read, but it led me to do further research on the after-effects of World War I and the toll it took on the young soldiers, most of them barely out of their teens. Winspear is a great storyteller with a compelling heroine.

William Gibson, “The Father of Cyberpunk,” is responsible for much of our current technology.

In Pattern Recognition, however, Gibson isn’t writing about a future decades away, but just a hint ahead, enough for us to think that the future may well be more intriguing than the present—and to understand its deep roots in the past. Through Cayce Pollard, with her allergy to bad branding, Gibson navigates the brittle edge of fashionable London, weaving in a dark documentary in Russia, a series of film stills rising like fish to the surface of the internet, and a father lost in the aftermath of 9/11.

Part mystery, part coolness commentary, and stunningly well-written, this book will have you blinking when you wake from the dream Gibson has created.

I feel that Sherlock Holmes and Cyrus Barker would be friends, but even more so, Dr. Watson and Thomas Llewelyn would have much to discuss. I was hesitant to begin a new series set in Victorian London, but I’m so glad I read this book and every book in the series that followed.

It Involved is a twisty mystery rich in setting and history. Barker and Llewelyn are a formidable duo when it comes to crime fighting and detection, and Llewelyn’s humor offsets (and sometimes ratchets up) the tension.

A Beautiful Blue Death begins the publication order of this marvelous Victorian series, though some later-written prequels bring the list of titles to fifteen.

Lenox is remarkable for his affable nature—no enormous childhood trauma, addictions, or unresolved grief defining him; he’s not oppressed by his society. He stands in contrast to the complicated, dynamic, and politically fraught world he investigates.

Finch’s prose is both plummy and punchy, his voice well crafted for the period, and his plots delightfully rife with Victorian arcana and eccentricities. Comfort reading never had quite this much style, elegance, and verve!

I've always been fascinated by stories that show what happens to a couple after the wedding.

As wonderful as it is to watch Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane fall in love and finally marry in the previous books in the series, I find it even more interesting to see them adjust to marriage and the challenges it brings. The final scene in particular has been a huge influence on my own writing.

I love Anne Perry's murder mystery books. Her historical novels take us back to a place that none of us remember but feel familiar through Charles Dickens. We learn about the dark side of Victorian England. Perry shows us the grit and struggle of the times. Her characters are complex, and we see their growth. Detective Thomas Monk (before the television show) is in a field still struggling for professionalism, and he grapples with that status. We also learn about the development of the nursing profession and how women helped and fought for rights through the other main character, Hester Latterly. Perry does an outstanding job of showing not only the surroundings but also the characters' feelings and how they processed their surroundings and pasts.