94 books like The Poems of Robert Henryson

This is the only ‘whodunnit’ on my list, but it’s so much more. (As are all the best ‘whodunnits’.)

For a start, it’s told from four different points of view. My own books use the early history of the Royal Society, its science, and various of its actual ‘Fellows,’ and this book was undeniably an influence. Pears details the politics and religious turmoil of the time and the excitement of new scientific discoveries.

The mid-17th century’s rigid social structure and manners are shown starkly, as is the misogyny. I found it dark, layered, and although complex, it’s immediately engaging. A very satisfying book indeed!

I love all of Sarah Waters’ works, but Fingersmith ranks among my most obsessively adored books of all time. I find it a near-perfect interweaving of meticulously researched historical fiction—penned with Dickensian flair and grace—and compulsively page-turning thriller, marked by brilliant and utterly unforeseeable plot twists that will leave you slack-jawed.

It somehow manages to be wickedly funny, poignantly tragic, powerfully feminist, and gratifyingly steamy all at once. I also loved the Korean film adaptation of it, The Handmaiden, which not only embraces Fingersmith’s anti-patriarchal themes but ingeniously weaves anti-colonialist elements into the by setting it in Japan-occupied Korea in the 1930s.  

A Thousand Notable Things was first published in 1579, coincidently the year in which my first Hew Cullan story is set. A miscellany of marvels, magic, myths and medicine, ‘facts’ and household tips designed to entertain rather than instruct, it’s a fascinating glimpse into the sixteenth-century mindset to be taken, like its remedies, with a pinch of salt. Where else can you find, in the space of a heartbeat, that robins will cover dead faces with moss; that a married man made impotent by witchcraft should ‘make water’ through his wedding ring to remove the spell; or that basil causes scorpions to breed inside the brain? "Take heed therefore ye smellers of basil." A thousand times diverting. "This is proved and true."

I first read They Were Defeated over thirty years ago, and recently reread to see if it had the power to move me still today. It does. Set in 1641, in Devonshire and Cambridge at the very brink of the Civil War, it reads like a love letter to a lost world, where the poets and Platonists are illuminated in already fading light, beautifully and tenderly observed. Rose Macaulay wrote that she had done her best "to make no person in this work use in conversation any word, phrase or idiom" not used at the time. "Ghosts of words," she calls them, after Thomas Browne. An astonishing feat in the pre-digital age. Yet the language of her ghosts is clear and true and natural. And the still moment, at the very heart of her heart-breaking story, transcends the factions that surround it and stays fixed for all time. This is… show more.

I want to reveal to people the superb achievement of the medieval Scots Makars who produced arguably the greatest poetry anywhere in Europe or Britain between roughly 1450 to 1550. John Barbour, William Dunbar, Robert Henryson, Gavin Douglas, and Sir David Lyndsay are the greatest of them but there are more excellent exponents of Scots in this, one of its golden ages, and they are all represented here. I quote many of them in my book.

This is neither an encyclopedia nor a tasting guide; rather, it is a deep travelogue of Islay, a Scottish island that is home to only a few thousand people and several of the greatest whisky distilleries on earth. Jefford paints for the reader a rich portrait of the island as a whole, and highly detailed miniatures of Ardbeg, Bowmore, Bruichladdich, Bunnahabhain, Caol Ila, Lagavulin, and Laphroaig. The reader who works through this thick book will come away with a thick knowledge of Scotch whisky, and a deep appreciation of the slice-of-heaven-on-earth that is Islay.

Great writing is the key to my heart, and this book is gorgeously written. Isobel, a newly arrived Scottish immigrant to Salem, MA, carries a dangerous secret gift—the “magic” of synesthesia. The story takes place two generations after the infamous witch trials, and while Isobel’s unique color awareness means she can support herself as a seamstress and embroiderer while her husband is at sea, it also means she’s vulnerable to suspicion. Meanwhile, she meets Nathaniel Hawthorne—yes, that Nathaniel Hawthorne.

While Albanese explains that Isobel isn’t specifically “Hester” of The Scarlet Letter, by the end of the novel, I completely believe that she is. Here's a strong feminist perspective on a classic case of a woman wronged. I can’t wait to pick it up again.

I love finding new authors! Which is why I’m recommending another debut novel—this time from Marion Todd. It won the Bloody Scotland Scottish Crime Debut Novel of the Year 2020. Since then she has published (at the time of writing) a further 4 novels in her series about detective inspector Clare Mackay. I wish I could write that fast! Her serial killer haunts St Andrews, Scotland by luring victims to a stretch of road and then running them over—simple but effective. It can be difficult to write a pacey thriller and develop interesting characters at the same time but Todd manages this admirably. As soon as I finished this novel, I went straight on to the second in the series which is equally as good and I look forward to reading the rest.

I absolutely adored this book. I laughed from beginning to end. This is an adventure like no other and set in one of my favourite countries, Scotland. I have been lucky to visit Scotland twice. Its history, culture, scenery, and people have intrigued me since I was a child. The main characters are kilt-wearing animals, eating lots of cake and doing their best to fit in. These wolves might be the polite high society type, but they have a voracious appetite that makes the story so entertaining. It’s a tale full of delightful Scottish humour, castles, dungeons, and a villainous real estate agent. This hilarious romp through the Scottish countryside brings back wonderful memories of all that I have encountered while visiting this fabulous country. 

Tom English has produced a series of oral histories (latterly with Peter Burns) which any fan would be advised to read.

The Grudge tells the story of Scotland v England 1990, a game for the Five Nations title that stood for so much more: politics, nationalism, class warfare. It’s a glorious re-telling of an epic game, an upset Scotland win. But I love it for its portrayal of respect between players, of warriors bound by the violent game they play, of friendships across the lines of battle.

Brian Moore emerges a hero: the fearsome “Pitbull” of the England pack, yet a man who fronted up and went drinking with Scots after a crushing defeat. That, to me, is the true spirit of rugby, and the brotherhood it inspires.