The most recommended castle books

This was the first book in Tessa Dare's Castles Ever After. I love Tessa's modern characters set in a historical backdrop. Isolde is a woman that knows what she wants. She is forced to go up against Ransom, a stubborn Duke who is visually impaired, in a fight over a castle they both believe they own.  

Also, I would just love to say how much I love when Tessa Dare gives her characters an unusual pet. In this case, Isolde has an ermine. Animal antics add so much fun to her stories! 

This book made me laugh. It made me cry. It made my heartbreak and ultimately it gave me a beautiful love story I thoroughly enjoyed reading.

Part of an enchanting series of fairy tale retellings, Blackfoot pulls in elements of familiar stories, while providing delightful twists like unmagic and growing castles.

Buildings that change or have some degree of sentience have always been a favorite trope of mine, and I love fairy tale themes, but what truly drew me into the story was the titular Blackfoot—a secretive, sarcastic black cat. The interactions between the protagonist, Annabel, and her witty cat companion made this tale a delight!

I literally guffawed as I read this—enough times that my kids begged me to read it to them (which I did). This retelling of Beowulf played with expectations, twisting and turning in unexpected ways. The characters were fully fleshed out, with plenty of faults and quirks. No one was who I thought they were. Intrigue, magic, and stubborn independence mixed to make this delightful tale. 

Do we need architects for our homes? Well, it seems that in the past they often failed to be there. Bernard Rudovsky, who was himself an architect, featured in 1964 an exhibition dedicated to the topic at the New York MoMA. The related catalogue, Architecture Without Architects, has since then turned into an iconic book. A beautiful set of black and white pictures that describes a primitive state of the art in which skilled but anonymous builders applied throughout the planet the laws of nature giving birth to what is presently labeled as vernacular styles. No names survived despite the talents, in this collection featuring the first steps of architecture, but rationality and functionality are already there, long before Modernism would make them its core principles. It was a pleasant surprise to discover in this book some kind of credit to my belief that medieval castles may have inspired… show more.

Mysterious victorian missionaries with dark secrets in the land of the fae. I truly do not know how to sell this book any better. I tend to recommend gothic literature for historical fiction newbies, since the emotional stakes are always so high and the plots often bend close to horror or fantasy, and this one is no different. The worldbuilding is spectacular, and it plays on the tropes of classic gothic novels in a way that’s knowing, clever, and never dry or stilted. No wonder Ng won the Hugo for best new author when she released this book—it deserves it.

This was one of the first horror novels I read, so it has almost a mystical hold on me. I returned to it quite a few times through the years turning my paperback edition into a dogeared mess.

It was the first time I read a story where the real world of politics and cruelty were tied to the immortal, the unliving, the monsters of our imagination. The mix of horror and the supernatural works in this book as well as anything I've read.

And the scene under the keep, the tunnels that kept me awake as a youngster, and I still look at it as a masterclass on how to build fear and suspense.

Peake writes with the experience of someone who paints and that has a remarkable effect on his use of imagery. There are certain figurative turns of phrases he uses, such as “a face like scrunched up paper” or describing a cat purring as “the sound of an ocean inside a shell,” that click in my mind like—yes! You’ve put that into words! And Titus Groan is, once again, full of that amazing and immersive wordsmithery that elevates the text into something cinematic.

Recipes and gourmet menus alone make this book worth savoring and keeping, but I was charmed by the setting—an ancient chateau in France that is a tourist lodge with two restaurants, a vineyard, and wonderful gardens.

Sophie, a disgraced chef in New York, flees to her grandmother Odette but finds responsibility and a whole new way of life. The contrast between her two worlds—New York and France—is nicely done, as is Sophie’s own inner conflict. The cast of minor characters brings delightful variety—two grannies are Sophie’s main assistants, along with an old, alcoholic man who is a genius with desserts.

If the hint at romance is a bit formulaic, I overlooked it because I was so charmed by the people, the place, and the food.

I was initially reluctant to read a novel about Nazi Germany, but I’m so glad I did. Shattuck introduces us to three women—Marianne, Benita, and Ania. Each has a uniquely compelling story, and I came to care about them all. These characters brought me a new understanding of how German women dealt with the Nazi era and its terrible aftermath. And importantly, Shattuck brings compassion to the three women, each of whom was striving to find a way through a treacherous and sometimes soul-warping period. Ultimately, the author leaves us with insights into our own often frightening times.

What does a castle and Noah’s ark have in common? What is a castle, if not an over-dimensioned hull? In Globes, part of his Sphere trilogy, the philosopher Peter Sloterdijk brings architecture to its anthropological origin, the necessity to regain the initial womb’s protection, a shared comfort zone confronting exterior threats. Like the mythical cities in which history always start by a ground delimitation, the castles are erecting their walls and closing their gates to preserve the interior world and its coherence from the exterior chaos. In an analogy to the Middle Age, gated communities reproduce in a regressive way this reality. Only the privileged will be saved.