100 books like The Web of Images

Everything that Mary Carruthers has written is terrific — but this is the book that first showed me how unusual, and how sophisticated, medieval approaches to the mind could be.

The arts of memory that flourished in the high Middle Ages were designed for much more than rote memorization: they helped people internalize what they perceived, then transform that material into something new.

Carruthers presents these techniques so infectiously that you’ll want to try them yourself. It’s not just the practices themselves that are riveting, though. Carruthers also shows how they shaped medieval media culture and how they contributed to the ethical development of the people who practiced them.

The arts of memory weren’t parlor tricks; they were modes of understanding and evaluating the world. Amazing!

Lines of Thought reveals the hidden magic of a seemingly simply notetaking device: the horizontal tree diagram, which became especially popular among university students and scholars starting in the thirteenth century.

Upon first glance, you might not be all that impressed by the device: it’s just a combination of vertical lists with horizontal sentence structures! But as Even-Ezra shows, these diagrams accomplished much more than a mere highlighter could.

They turned passive readers into active analysts, distilled long and complex texts into clear and concise schemas, and conveyed new ideas about the material that would have been impossible to communicate through the written text alone.

As a bonus, the book is interlaced with its own horizontal tree diagrams. And who doesn’t love a meta-format?

Early Christian monks in the eastern Mediterranean chalked up many of their mental struggles to demonic interference—and yet their approaches to the problem of attention share some striking similarities to modern psychology.

Graiver makes the case that monks’ talk of demons was not a superstitious diagnosis but a pragmatic one: it helped monks try to strike a balance between monitoring their thoughts and thinking too hard about them, deal with unwanted thoughts before they became all-consuming, and figure how to keep it together when their thoughts were all over the place.

I love that this book takes early monks and modern psychologists equally seriously. And even if you don’t start blaming your problems on demons after reading it, you will still have learned a lot about the promises and perils of attention management.

Carruthers and Ziolkowski pulled together several terrific texts (translated from Latin into English) to showcase medieval thinking about cognitive mechanisms and practices.

I love teaching with this book: the texts are succinct, charming, and sometimes very strange, and the introductions help you understand how the techniques actually work. Scholarship can pique our interest in medieval history, but it’s the primary sources that keep us coming back for more.    

This is a much-needed antidote to the navel-gazing tendencies of American criminal justice thought.

Reading contemporary treatments, you might almost be fooled into thinking that certain types of police controversies have a specifically American – or at least modern – origin. They don't. In fact, the peculiar challenges of policing and its inevitable discontents might even be universal.

Certainly, they were present at an early stage in medieval Italy, long before the first English "bobbies" ever dawned a uniform. Use-of-force controversies, weapons prohibitions, reluctant witnesses, hostile crowds, simmering beefs among local gangsters: it's all here. Roberts' medieval world so eerily resembles our own when it comes to law enforcement that one ends up surprised to encounter any differences at all.

Here's one, though: medieval town dwellers did not have cell phones with which to film the cops misdeeds. Instead, they hollered for notaries to scribble records on the spot.

You saw this rec coming, right? Although this is a novel rather than a straight history, Eco’s story is probably the one that started me on my own nerdy path to book history and book sleuthing. I read it as an impressionable freshman in college, and its descriptions of monastic manuscripts imprinted themselves on me before I ever saw an example of an illuminated book in the flesh.

Murder, medieval abbeys, and old musty books… what’s not to love? In fact, I’m going to take my own advice and reread this one right now—for pure nostalgia and enjoyment. 

If you’ve ever fantasized about restoring a crumbling medieval Italian villa, then you’ll get to live that experience vicariously through this memoir.

The author has a wonderful sense of the absurd as she recounts her family’s multi-year efforts to turn a roofless villa into their dream home, complete with a complicated teenage daughter who is trying to find her way in the rural Italian countryside where the family has been transplanted.

Brimming with idiosyncratic and endearing characters. 

This book encompasses why I am passionate about spiritual giftings and how important they are in spiritual warfare. I love high-stakes and adventurous plots, and Lisa kept me turning pages late into the night. I learned so much history regarding the Church before the Reformation and was reminded how easy it is for the enemy to make evil appear attractive.

This book gave me a new awareness of the spiritual realm and the power of prayer and discernment. Besides, it takes place in Italy, and I am obsessed with Italy!

One of the smartest books I’ve ever read portraying a woman in a “man’s job” in medieval England. Adelia is trained in Italy as a ‘Mistress of the Art of Death,’ a precursor to today’s medical examiner.

She’s brilliant and brave, and she engages in repartee with Sir Rowley—King Henry II’s tax collector and love interest—that has me turning the pages eager for their next encounter. This is a smart, funny, well-researched thriller that I return to every few years to reread. 

Waterfall takes a 21st-century girl, Gabriella, and mysteriously places her in medieval Italy. Gabi’s journey is unexpected and exciting! While the title might be misleading, you won’t be disappointed when you’re introduced to this teenage girl who’s grown up with archeologist parents learning how to wield a sword. Finding herself in the fourteenth century, Gabi literally lands in the middle of a battle, she meets a knight-prince, and her summer has only begun.