95 books like The Women of the Copper Country

This book is the fascinating story of a Sephardic Jewish emigrant in London who, in the 1660s, was permitted to scribe for a blind rabbi even though she was a woman. The narration flips between Esther Velasquez’s remarkable story and an ailing historian in the 21st century who is trying to determine the identity of the mysterious scribe known to scholars only as “aleph.”

I liked this story because it revealed a fascinating window on how women, and particularly Jewish women, were treated in 17th-century Europe. 

This is a historical mystery, but so much more than a whodunit. It’s fourth in the series, but can be read alone if you don’t mind spoiling the earlier books a bit. It’s a stand-out to me because it’s about raising one’s voice against inhumanity, even when it seems commonplace, or necessary.

Maisie is an intuitive detective and as such, has to fight against conventional police interference, client skepticism, and male smugness. But what she’s fighting for is the right outcome for everyone concerned, including the victim of the crime. This novel focuses on an artist ex-soldier of WWI who was using his voice to criticize the powers within government. I just love how Maisie deliberately wields her compassion in order to see the full picture of a case.

I have a soft spot for characters who find strength by dint of superhuman effort, and the way this fifteen-year-old takes charge after the 1906 earthquake—haltingly, uncertainly, as is only plausible—makes me wish I’d met her.

Her path is steeper than the San Francisco hills, yet her refusal to ask for pity wins me over. I also admire how Edgarian uses her protagonist’s coming of age to represent San Francisco’s, a parallel delivered with a light touch.

But above all, the novel explores the fraught relation between women and power; and how Vera walks that tightrope makes compelling fiction.

Pre-revolution America is not usually my era for historical fiction but when I tell you that this novel grabs you with visceral detail, I mean it. Smells, textures, glares—everything is so vividly told! The resistance in this novel is really simple survival, as the whole New England village seems to have it in for our heroine Ruth. But she stubbornly holds out, trying to forge a path forward for herself. We get treated to some local politics, some ship lore, run-ins with Indigenous Nations (some good, some bad) and local brigands, and always anchored in Ruth’s evolving notions of right and wrong. The ending was also delicious. Think Last of the Mohicans meets Cold Mountain, but with a surprise for our heroine.

A haunted capital building, spooky cemeteries, the infamous Legend of Seven Gables Road, true crime, and more are all featured in this excellent book on ghosts and haunted places around our state capital and surrounding cities and towns. Carpenter has a very entertaining style of writing that makes this book hard to put down.   

If one were to travel in a time machine back to the early 1700s, to the French colony of Detroit, they’d arrive at a village inhabited by mixed French-indigenous families, where women were power-brokers and family ties were the basis for structuring business relationships. The village would be totally unrecognizable to those of us who have been taught to envision French colonial Detroit as a male-dominated outpost, where European soldiers and fur traders operated in the service of the Crown. Historian Karen Marrero digs deep into the archives to assemble an account that completely reorients our understandings of the cultural landscape and gender dynamics of early Detroit.

Drawing on a vast array of sources – from colonial records and oral histories to songs and indigenous stories – Detroit’s Hidden Channels is a remarkably inclusive history that unearths the enduring role French women and indigenous people played in the city’s development,… show more.

Slavery and its legacy is a northern problem too. Detroiters were slaveholders, but that is a fact that we’ve collectively spent decades, if not centuries, denying and neglecting. Tiya Miles’ gripping history of slavery and freedom reveals the stories of the enslaved Native and African American people who were present in Detroit since the city’s initial decades of European colonization. Her historical narratives, crafted from meticulous archival research, reintroduce readers to the long-forgotten people whose coerced labor laid the foundation for the city’s physical infrastructure and scaffolded the livelihoods of its free residents. The Dawn of Detroit is a stark reminder of how the roots of contemporary inequities run deep through the city’s history.  

Detroit 1967 is a compilation of twenty essays and reflections about the racially-charged uprising that began on July 23, 1967 and was, at the time, the deadliest civil disturbance in United States history. Until this volume was published during the uprising’s 50th anniversary year, there were few, if any, attempts by scholars to confront the falsehoods that confused understandings of the events and their lasting consequences. Fifty years on, there is no consensus about exactly how the uprising started. In fact, we’re not even at a point of agreement on what to call the events. The terms “rebellion”, “riot”, “uprising”, “disturbance”, and “insurrection” are used differentially, often according to one’s race, age, and place of residence. Detroit 1967 is one of the first conversations about the uprising to cross racial and generational lines, and to recognize the experiences of those involved on both sides. The volume is a critical… show more.

“Tell me what you can’t forget, and I’ll tell you who you are.”

Thus begins Marlena, Julie Buntin’s debut novel about Marlena and Cat, who meet as fifteen-year-olds in rural Michigan. Their friendship is intense and complicated, and right from the start, we know that Cat is the only one who makes it out alive.

Buntin’s writing perfectly captures the voice and texture of adolescence, and her book is a model for how to maintain tension in a story when you find out early on (page 6 to be exact) that one of the main characters is dead.

The sections featuring Cat as an adult show that while she may have left her small town behind, she can’t escape her past. 

This book had me laughing from the first page. I could see the town immediately and hear every character’s voice clearly in my head. I found it incredibly easy to read. Before I knew it, I was halfway through the story and I loved Jane, Duncan and Jimmy as though they were members of my own family.

Because this book is so funny, I found that the sad, serious parts affected me deeply. But ultimately, I found it hugely uplifting. It reminded me that the worst events can bring out the best in me and the people I love. I can’t think of anyone I know who wouldn’t love this book.