100 books like Romance of the Taj Mahal

It really is ‘complete’ as it claims: this is the most thorough and authoritative account of the design and construction of India’s most famous building. Underpinned by robust scholarship, the story is engagingly told and wonderfully illustrated with many photographs and diagrams. The author visually reconstructs the larger (now lost) series of riverside gardens in Agra, and explains how the Taj Mahal fitted into this unique built environment. 

This is an anthology of all of the written sources on the Taj Mahal from the period of its construction in the 17th century. It brings together translations of every description or mention of the building in Mughal court histories, or accounts by foreign travellers, and explains all of the historical and religious inscriptions that are written on the building itself. The book is meant for the serious student and lacks narrative flow; but the focus exclusively on written sources dating from the same time as the Taj really helps you understand it in its own time. 

This slim but well illustrated book gives an account of archaeological excavations that the author and others carried out in the mid-1990s. They unearthed the large but previously lost garden called the Mehtab Bagh on the far bank of the River Yamuna, facing the Taj Mahal. In so doing they debunked the long-standing myth about Shah Jahan’s plans to build a black replica Taj on that spot and showed instead what the real original garden scheme was like. Fascinatingly told, the story fully lives up to the claim to reveal ‘new discoveries’. 

This is a survey of all Mughal architecture, in which only a few pages are devoted to the Taj Mahal directly, but for anyone who wants to understand the Taj not as something unique and inexplicable, but as a logical part of a longer tradition of design, this book is essential reading. While there are other surveys of Mughal architecture on offer, a major strength of this one is the author’s inclusion of many minor and provincial buildings that provide a wider context for the famous stand-out masterpieces like the Taj. 

Nur Jahan was one of the great queens of India, but I had never learned about her even in my studies at university.

I felt absolutely transported into her life, ambitions, and loves through this riveting novel that is so poetic you’ll want to read it in your bath with the door locked and a candle lit. This book feels like a window into the life of a woman you wish was your mother, your sister, your best friend.

It’s the first of the trilogy, and a magnificent journey into ancient India and the history of the Taj Mahal.

I love exhibition catalogues. They are usually lavishly illustrated with expert explanations of the visuals. I can dip into them at will, especially when I’m too tired for a major investment of time in reading.

This one is particularly fine as its production values are high and the explanations lengthy. Prince Henry, the son of James VI and I, who died suddenly in November 1610 at the age of eighteen, was, like his mother, Queen Anna, a patron of music, paintings, masques, architecture, and gardens. These interests are amply revealed in the fascinating pictures and text of this wonderful catalogue. 

When I was a kid, I used to love W. Somerset Maugham short stories. Often they were about two strangers, usually men, meeting in a remote colonial outpost, and one of the two would then proceed to tell the other a strange, violent, heartbreaking, life-altering story that had happened to him or that he had witnessed. Mouth to Mouth, which I loved, reminded me of those stories.

I listened to it on audiobook, and the narration is pitch-perfect. This novel is about two men who meet at an airport when their plane is delayed. They go into a lounge, where one of them, a rich art dealer named Jeff, proceeds to tell the other his life story.

It’s gripping. I sat in my car after I got home so I could listen to the last twenty minutes.

Many would say Krenov’s approach stands in strong contrast to Frid’s books. Krenov’s books contain much valuable practical information, but I believe the great value of this book is in his attitude toward his work. It is— and I know this is an overused word — but I think it is inspirational.  He speaks clearly and in-depth about his approach to and interaction with his materials; their interplay with design and function; how the physical act of doing the work affects it; his attitude towards time, energy, genuineness, and patronage, and achieving the highest levels of art, craft, and satisfaction. Highly recommended for artists and woodworkers.

Mixing deep archival scholarship with brilliant storytelling, Dalrymple transports the reader into the final days of the Mughal Empire and its last emperor. The story centers on Delhi during the mutiny against British rule in 1857, the last great attempt by the Indians to throw off their European overlords until Gandhi. What begins with hope ultimately ends in tragedy, for the Mughal poet-ruler who fails to grasp his chance to change history, and the brilliant civilization his empire had fostered.

I found this book utterly engrossing. The subject of Sir Thomas Roe’s embassy to India from 1616 to 1619 interested me in part because of my interest in cross-cultural exchanges and partly because of my own visit to some of the places previously trodden by Roe.

I liked the fact that the book had a clear argument, namely that Roe’s previous personal and political experiences influenced his perceptions and conduct in India.

Above all, I found the writing a joy. Despite its undoubted scholarship, the book reads as a novel. Das brings colour to all the descriptions, whether of people, places, or events. I wish I could write like that.