Medievalish 2.9
On Medieval-Themed Fiction
Dear friend,
Did you know that there were no novels in the Middle Ages in the West?1 There were stories, of course—an abundance of stories, stories on stories in poetry and sermon anecdotes and saints’ lives. But the novel as we know it did not exist in western literature, until Miguel Cervantes stormed onto the scene with with the bizarre Don Quixote. Epic poetry truly ruled the long-narrative form until then. Novels are a pretty modern phenomenon, generally speaking.
A few Medievalishes ago, someone asked me if I would ever share recommendations for historical fiction about the medieval era. I can’t claim to have read them all. In fact, sometimes I avoid reading historical fiction about the Middle Ages because it can bother me in a petty way. I actually like reading historical fiction set in the Early Modern period better! But for a fun change-up from my usual topics, I thought I’d share my thoughts about medieval historical fiction this month. September and October are glorious months for novels. I had this idea after I finally read Sigrid Undset’s Kristin Lavransdatter only a week or so ago. I also secretly harbor a fantasy of writing a historical novel about the Middle Ages myself… someday.
Enjoy. I’ve linked all to ThriftBooks since I love buying used books, but these are all available in the usual places too. Complete my list and share your favorites in the comments, please! I’m always on the lookout for wonderful fiction reads, whether for children or adults.
The Nobel Prize Winner
The mega-achievement that is Kristin Lavransdatter, by Sigrid Undset (1920, 1921, 1922), deserves its own category. Kristin consists of three volumes: The Crown, The Housewife, and The Cross. It covers the life of a medieval Norwegian noblewoman, from her childhood to her death, in the first half of the fourteenth century. This book is an achievement—from the finely textured depiction of medieval life in Norway, to the agonizing psychological attention to the festering effects of sin, to the figure of Kristin herself, caught up endlessly in the battle of her will and the aftereffects of her life choices.
Don’t make the same mistake I did in reading—I bought used which I always like to do, but failed to pay attention to translation. So I read the first and third novel in one translation, but the middle in a different. That was an interesting experience. Tiina Nunnally’s newer translation for Penguin is far superior to the earlier translation by Charles Archer and J.S. Scott, which is obscure and consciously archaic.
Lighter Fare
As a reader I thrive off a mix of high and low literature. If I read Kristin Lavransdatter, you can bet that the next three books I read will be quicker and easier. In this lighter fare category, I would include the work of Bernard Cornwell. Besides the genuinely fun early medieval The Last Kingdom (2004) and all the books in that series (which is also an equally fun Netflix series), there’s also his Agincourt (2009). This one tells the tale of an English longbowman who eventually fights in Agincourt, the famous battle on St. Crispin’s Day in 1415, fought by the armies of Henry V and the French—the one with Shakespeare’s famous speech of Henry (“we few, we happy few, we band of brothers”).
In a totally different style, I enjoyed and occasionally re-read Anya Seton’s Katherine (1954). A classic romance, Katherine depicts the relationship between Katherine Swynford and John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, son of Edward III. Bonus: writers of the age, like Julian of Norwich and Geoffrey Chaucer, play minor but important and sensitively written roles.
I occasionally rampage through a Philippa Gregory or an Alison Weir as well.
Children’s Fiction
There are two categories I want to give special attention to: the picture storybook and the chapter book. As a book-lover, I believe a picture book collection is incomplete without Marguerite Makes a Book by Bruce Robertson (1999), illustrated by Kathryn Hewitt. The daughter of a book-maker in medieval Paris, young Marguerite helps her father in his workshop and one day, must step in on a big commission, a prayer-book for a highborn lady. You’re also missing out if you don’t own the wonderful knightly stories by Margaret Hodges and illustrated by Trina Schart Hyman, like Saint George and the Dragon, or The Kitchen Knight.
I would be remiss if I did not mention Catherine Called Birdy by Karen Cushman (1994), which I read and reread voraciously in the 90s. It follows the adventures of Catherine, a young girl in 1290 attempting to avoid her upcoming marriage. It’s not perfect (a little bit Middle Ages as Dark Ages vibe) but I remember marveling at the ways that Cushman weaves in ordinary medieval things that were completely new to me—telling time through saints’ days, for instance, or her handling of medieval antisemitism in an age-appropriate and thoughtful way. I’m hoping as my eldest grows, I encounter some new favorites in this category, too!
Arthuriana
Last year I went on an Arthurian spree, and it was super fun. I love reading Arthuriana because everyone writes them with such strong inflections of what they care about—we get paganism is bad, paganism is good, Christianity is bad, Christianity is good, magic is bad, magic is good, women are bad, women are good, humans are bad, humans are good, and on and on. 80s Arthuriana reads totally different from 30s or 50s, and I love that weirdly transparent quality in these legends. In 2022, I read Gillian Bradshaw’s Hawk of May series from the 80s, Marion Zimmer Bradley’s The Mists of Avalon, and a couple of years before, I had read Bernard Cornwell’s two separate Arthurian attempts! Yet on neither occasion were my two non-medieval-original favorites dethroned…
T.H. White’s The Sword in the Stone (1938). Though The Once and Future King is amazing, and has one of the coolest book titles ever, I prefer The Sword in the Stone. The education of young Wart by Merlin is magical every time.
John Steinbeck’s The Acts of King Arthur and His Noble Knights (published in 1976, written during the late 50s and left unfinished). Choosing this one feels a bit like cheating, as it follows Malory’s Morte Darthur almost exactly, at times more translation than adaptation. But as we go deeper into the book, Steinbeck adds layers of his own into the rich original.
The OG Historical Fiction
Want to read like Jane Austen? Try one of her favorite authors, Sir Walter Scott. While I personally like non-medieval Waverley better than his most famous medieval-set novel, Ivanhoe, you can’t get much more original gangster than the father of English historical fiction. Plus, it’s another chance to read something that spawned a Wishbone episode, an opportunity I personally always relish.
Notable Things I have not read and/or don’t remember well enough
I read The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco (1980) in college, and I’ve heard it’s amazing, but have no memories of it, alas. In college I was gulping down so much new literature in my English major that I tend to not remember much I read in that time period for fun (with the important exception of Godric—see below!).
Mentioning here Laurus by Eugene Vodolazkin (2012), which I have not yet read, but plan to, because I’ve heard it’s brilliant.
My Favorite
Frederick Buechner said this about Godric (1980): “If I were to be remembered by only one book, this is the one I would choose. In every way it came unbidden, unheralded, as a blessing.” My favorite medieval historical fiction book is, hands down, Buechner’s Godric. On the banks of the River Wear, we meet Godric, a twelfth-century hermit in Northern England, who tells his own story to the overenthusiastic young monk Reginald, resisting Reginald’s desire to turn him into a perfect saint, while the old man also reveals the miracle and depth of the love of God. This Pulitzer-nominated novel remains the best historical fiction on the Middle Ages I’ve ever read, in part because no other book I’ve read captures so well the strangeness—and the beauty and ugliness in that strangeness—of medieval faith. I read it in college and it has held the throne gracefully. I return to it every few years because it is profoundly human and written with piercing beauty.
What I’ve been up to this month:
VERY BIG ANNOUNCEMENT: The launch team for my first book, Jesus through Medieval Eyes: Beholding Christ with the Artists, Mystics, and Theologians of the Middle Ages begins next week. Over the next month and a half leading up to the book’s release day (October 31st), I’ll be sharing a lot more about the book in this special group, and would be excited and honored to have you come along on this journey with me. If you join, you will have the chance to read the book before it’s available anywhere else, plus as we get closer to the launch date, I’ll start sharing discussion questions on each chapter—basically turning the group into a mini Jesus through Medieval Eyes book club! The only requirements to join are a willingness to preorder the book (you will also receive an advance digital copy as a member of this group), and a readiness to dive into these medieval ideas about Jesus with me. I will be sending another email next week as a reminder—feel free to ignore that one if you’re not interested. Click here if you’d like to join the launch team.
Season Four of Old Books with Grace returns tomorrow! On Wednesday, listen to my interview on the beauty and gifts that women without children have given, and give, to the church, with
on your favorite podcasting platform. Coming up: interviews on George MacDonald, Christian poetry off the beaten path, Louisa May Alcott, and more!
What I’ve been reading this month:
Fiction: Not too much other than Kristin Lavransdatter. That text absorbed all my fiction mind space.
Nonfiction: Daniel Nayeri’s Everything Sad is Untrue. I bawled my eyes out. That is not a normal response for me—it is the highest praise I can bestow upon a book. Nayeri’s account of his childhood as an Iranian refugee is one of the best books I’ve read this year.
Medieval/medieval-adjacent: William of Auvergne’s On Morals. The thirteenth-century bishop of Paris and scholar-theologian wrote this book where different virtues speak for themselves, arguing for their own importance. At times, it reads like a very earnest, slightly unhinged student body president campaign. Amazing.
Article: I enjoyed this piece from
on the enemies-to-friends trajectory of C.S. Lewis and T.S. Eliot. Don’t miss the follow-up, on Eliot’s role in getting A Grief Observed published.
A Prayer from the Past
This month’s prayer is from the English Puritan Richard Baxter (1615-1691). I love the phrase “believing affectionate walking with thee.” I know it’s metaphorical, but I like to think of it as literal too: May you have some good autumn walks in the affection of God this month.
Keep me, O Lord, while I tarry on this earth, in a daily serious seeking after thee, and in a believing affectionate walking with thee; that, when thou comest, I may be found not hiding my talent, nor serving my flesh, nor yet asleep with my lamp unfurnished; but waiting and longing for my Lord, my glorious God, for ever and ever.
Amen.
Peace for your September,
Grace
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If you have enjoyed this newsletter, you may also enjoy upgrading to a paid subscription to receive other essays scattered throughout the month on medieval and early modern books and thinkers. Plus, you directly support my writing and podcast projects! Lately for paid subscribers, I’ve written about medieval art celebrating the birth of Mary, how I got into Middle English in the first place, and a fourteenth-century sermon on the Feast of the Assumption…
The East had a novel-thing long before the West, with Murasaki Shikibu’s The Tale of Genji, written in the eleventh century. Thomas Malory’s Morte Darthur is novelesque, and I know some would argue with me, but I don’t think it’s a novel. It reads more like a chronicle or a compilation and has very little ongoing character or thematic development.
Grace, write that novel! Now I feel I must make room for Kristin and Godric. May I also suggest The Ramsey Scallop, about youth on pilgrimage on The Way in the Middle Ages? My daughter and I read this when she was a sixth-grader and it has stuck with me for years.
The Cadfael series are good reads, and set in the first English civil war - the "Anarchy" of the early Norman era. Paul Kingsnorth's "the Wake" is on my to read list too, from just slightly earlier.
Knight with Armour, by Alfred Duggan follows an Anglo-Norman knight on the first crusade. It's one I've read a couple of times as it's got a very interesting perspective and the main character feels authentic in his attitudes even if it makes him less likeable to a modern reader.