92 books like The Quest for Queen Mary

This is another biography of the current queen that shows how the monarchy works. It differs from Sarah Bradford’s biography. Pimlott was a historical expert on the labour party during the twentieth century. He brought to his book all the skepticism about the crown that people on the political left traditionally have in Britain. Perhaps surprisingly, then, he comes out admiring Elizabeth II. He sticks much more narrowly than Bradford does to political crises in which the queen had some noted or decisive influence.

In the guise of a biography of the current queen, this is one of the best books on the modern British monarchy as an institution. Sarah Bradford talked to all the palace insiders, an amazing feat given how touchy and protective everyone around the queen is. Bradford has the best sense of the strengths of the current queen and her weaknesses.  Because Elizabeth II is now the longest-reigning monarch in British history, she epitomizes most of the advantages and disadvantages of the institution in her own single lifetime.  You will find out which of the episodes from Netflix’s The Crown are all made up, and which are close to the truth.

This is a third book which appears to be a biographical account of Diana Spencer’s life in the royal family. It really focuses on the interaction between the monarchy and the press. The two are in a relationship that is sometimes acrimonious and sometimes symbiotic. It’s impossible to understand how the media establishment and the monarchy function without reading Brown’s book. She was herself the editor of major magazines on both continents. For a while, she ran Vanity Fair and later The Daily Beast. She was married to a prominent newspaperman who held prominent roles in London and New York. She knows what she’s talking about.

This is the first history that details how the late nineteenth-century monarchy became an engine of philanthropy. As kings and queens were sidelined, or reduced to insignificance, in political transactions, they increased their role in assisting non-profit institutions that contributed to the public good. They gave their patronage, for example, to hospitals, veterans’ associations, and civic charities. This gave the royal family an outsized influence in the do-good world, and this itself increased the respect in which the monarchy was held by people of all parties. Frank Prochaska is an American historian of Great Britain, so he brings a healthy objectivity to literature about royalty that is sometimes too credulous and deferential.

The wittiest of royal biographers, James Pope-Hennessy listed the three consuming passions of Queen Mary (1867-1953) as the British Monarchy, Windsor Castle, and collecting dolls’ house furniture. She was also dedicated to the coaching of her granddaughter Elizabeth as a future Queen. The old Queen’s excursions with the "Little Princesses," Elizabeth and Margaret, to London’s art galleries and museums, were the closest the two girls came to serious education. So read this book if you want to understand Elizabeth II as a child. It remains possible to detect Queen Mary’s reserve and occasional severity in the dutiful style of her eldest granddaughter to this day.  

Back to pure history! At one point, I was the founder and publisher—the Head Goose—of Goosebottom Books. Of all the books we published, this title is my favorite. Gretchen Maurer, the author, did a great job of presenting a very complex and nuanced story in a way that makes it human and understandable to young readers, without side-stepping the facts. The book design and illustration are remarkable and evoke the rich Tudor aesthetic. But what I love most about this book is that it presents the antihero to my childhood hero, Elizabeth I of England, and raises the question: just how fair was history? One of these two sisters became known as Bloody Mary, the other as Good Queen Bess. Did they fully deserve those reputations?

This book provides a different angle on Jane Seymour. I’ve never particularly ‘liked’ fictional Janes because they are usually so one-dimensional but this author delves more deeply. Jane’s character is subtle. On the surface she seems meek but beneath the façade she is quite determined to get what she wants. Often, the modern ideal of strong women doesn’t sit well on historical figures but J. Wertman has understood that subterfuge was often the only way for a female, even a queen, to get her own way. Janet Wertman has written other engaging Tudor books but this is my favourite.

I really did not like history when I was at school because other than 1066 (the Norman invasion of Britain) and 1492 (Columbus sailed the ocean blue) I could not remember the dates. I was not interested in the succession of kings or what countries made alliances through marriages. And then I read this book about Edward IV’s reign and the subsequent chaos which resulted in the Wars of the Roses between the houses of Lancaster and York. I was hooked. What made it more realistic for me was walking Bosworth Field, the site of the last great battle of that era. Stirring stuff.

Theresa starts our journey into the past life of Catherine of Aragon, whom many regard very mistakenly as a victim, with a pair of shoes, a painting, a rosary, a fur-trimmed baby blanket. She shows us how each of these things took meaning from the ways Catherine experienced and perceived them. Upon these traces and fragments, her portrait of Catherine emerges, and we glimpse her life lived five centuries ago. Engagingly written by Theresa in her clear and elegant prose, her cultural and emotional biography of Catherine truly brings us closer to understanding her life from her own perspective.

It’s wonderful to have the opportunity to recommend this particular work of Alison Weir. A brilliant historian, she – by means of both traditional, meticulously-researched biographies, as well as in her historical fiction offerings –  chronicles many aspects, and a number of personages of Tudor England in all of its – and their – colourfully untidy turbulence. 

Her account of Elizabeth I’s life is amongst her best. I especially appreciate the skillful way in which Weir continuously “introduces” the reader to Elizabeth, as the compelling figure she is – fascinatingly intricate, brilliant, and annoyingly contradictory. Just when one seems to understand her – Weir drops yet another paradox – as the reader learns that this supposedly staunchly Protestant daughter of Henry VIII maintained most aspects of orthodox Roman Catholic practices – including a crucifix – in her private chapel royal.