100 books like The Stone Rose

Eleanor of Aquitaine is certainly one of the most formidable women of the Middle Ages; not just because she was queen to two kings, but because she had the courage to openly defy them both.

Consequently, I raced to order Coirle Mooney’s first novel in her The Medieval Ladies series, followed quickly by the second, The Cloistered Lady. I absolutely love the author’s ability to craft vivid descriptions of time and place, especially the uncommon setting of the nunnery at Fontrevault. Joanna, Queen Eleanor’s lady-in-waiting, is a delightfully complex character.

Like Christina Kohl in my series, she is wonderfully human; but her fears and shortcomings are balanced out by her sometimes-surprising strength and compassion. I enjoyed all three novels in the series, but this one most of all.

Civil war has threatened ruling monarchs several times in English history.

The first instance is the bloody 12th-century conflict between King Stephen and the rival claimant, his cousin Matilda. Yet, the woman known as Empress Maud had already experienced an incredible life before returning to England in 1139 to challenge Stephen’s rule.

The early years of this truly remarkable woman's life are masterfully recounted in Amy Mantravadi’s The Girl Empress. Despite being a first-person narrative, the author has deftly interwoven a myriad of twelfth-century minutiae that should satisfy both readers enamored with historical detail as well as those craving a rollicking adventure story.

I especially liked how the author incorporated other historical figures into the story; each of these encounters was like finding a little jewel.

For medieval women, the right to assume title and property upon the death of their fathers or husbands could not be taken for granted. Most succumbed to the pressure to marry and relinquished their right to rule to conniving husbands, trapping themselves in loveless relationships.

A few, such as Matilda of Canossa, refused to be cowed into submission. Lara Byrne’s Lotharingia: Charlemagne’s Heir, is a wonderfully engaging blend of scholarly research and rich storytelling detailing the early life of this courageous woman. The characterizations are beautifully well-developed; I found some to virtually leap off the page and into the reader’s heart.

Like Christina Kohl in my series, Comitissa Matilda is a woman unafraid, whether to pursue forbidden love or to wield a sword in battle.

During my years in Germany, a favorite getaway was a stroll through the vineyards above the town of Rüdesheim am Rhein to the Abbey of St, Hildegard.

Well-familiar with the life of this brilliant, multi-faceted woman, I was hesitant to undertake P.K. Adams’ novel The Greenest Branch, especially when I discovered it was written in the first person. To my delight, I found my fears to be unfounded. The author has masterfully captured what I believe to be the spiritual essence of Hildegard in both her narrative and dialogue.

Adams’ portrayal of Hildegard’s struggle against the misogyny of the 12th century Church, as personified by Prior Helenger, forms a central conflict to the novel; as does her self-denial of worldly pleasures of the flesh while embracing the pain of self-mortification.

Star-crossed lovers and a strong female heroine! This setting is the beginning of the end for the Plantagenets. Their royal court is turbulent—filled with secrets and enemies after the dramatic coup of the current king’s father, King Edward II (the events of which are featured in my book). When the beautiful and willful Joan of Kent, cousin to the royal family, is sent to live among them, she soon learns they’re the ones responsible for her father’s unjust execution and her family’s subsequent shame. Though the handsome and chivalrous Black Prince of Wales is falling at her feet, she twists his affection against him in an act of revenge, only allowing Fortune’s Wheel to turn once she decides it should be so.

Crispin is a young serf in Medieval England--an orphan despised by everyone for reasons he does not understand. Though I never had problems as dire as Crispin faced, I frequently felt mistreated as a child, and like him, the forest was my comfort and refuge. Like him, I had a lively curiosity about the lives of others and many times learned important lessons through observation. I shared Crispin's tendency to hero worship those who befriended me, and like him, I generally chose my role models well.

The reign of King Stephen (1135–1154) was characterized by chaos and disorder, as he and his cousin Matilda fought over the succession to the English throne. This makes it a challenge to offer a coherent account, but Carl Watkins succeeds where others have failed in his short history of Stephen’s reign. The whole book, minus its academic endnotes, runs to under 90 pages, but it packs a considerable punch, thanks to Watkins’ elegant and enviable prose style. 

I have read a lot of history and archaeology books and more often than not they can be a little dull, dry and in some cases work better than a sleeping tablet.

Not with this book, here you learn about parts of medieval England you just wouldn’t think about, written from a more personal point of view its less about political stuff like kings, queens, and those pesky archbishops and much more on the practicalities of living in medieval England.

Would you know what to eat, wear, or where to go to the toilet? Would you know how to address a lord or lady? Would you know what to do if you got sick? This is a vital guide for all time travelers!

When I arrived in Oxford in 1998 to begin my doctorate, I knew a bit about English medieval history, but almost nothing about the histories of Wales, Scotland, and Ireland. That deficiency was corrected by Prof Rees Davies, at whose feet I was lucky enough to sit. Earlier that same year Rees had delivered the prestigious Ford lectures in Oxford, and they were published two years later as The First English Empire. Deeply learned, but also beautifully written, they are a powerful meditation on centuries when English power expanded aggressively into the rest of the British Isles, and the effects this had on national identities, which continue to resonate to this day.

Most books covering the early Middle Ages in Britain start with the fifth century and end around the tenth or eleventh. Edward James’s Britain is different, in that it embraces the Roman period too. Breadth on this level is stimulating, especially when (as here) it is accompanied by elegant and insightful prose that takes care to pay attention to diverse constituencies in society.