The last few months have been a bit of whirlwind – between travel and summer events and celebrations, I haven’t really had a moment to relax and reflect. My reading over this period has been just as eclectic (if not more so) as my activities.

The result? I’ve been reading a lot of “random” books. These are books I’ve picked up in small indie bookstores on my travels, or at the convention I visited, or from shopping my TBR. Some are new releases; some are well-loved re-reads. I’ve been surprised and delighted by many, but haven’t found exactly the right time to share them here.

The time is ripe, therefore, for a good old-fashioned reading roundup. Here are some of my recent favorites – the ones which, when I first read them, made me want to talk about them with everyone I met; and when I reviewed my shelves for this post, made me smile in remembrance.

Starting with…

A historical deep-dive: Inventing the Renaissance

I picked this one up with more than a little trepidation. 600+ pages of Renaissance historical analysis is no joke, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it all the way through. But I love a controversial premise, and Palmer’s – that painting the Renaissance as a “Golden Age” is, at best, misleading – was too tempting not to engage with.

On its face, the premise doesn’t seem like it needs so much argument. Honestly, even the first few sections, which define Renaissance humanism, establish the extended timeline of the period, demonstrate how much further the Renaissance spread than Florence, and set up the complex political realities of war in Renaissance Italy, were enough to persuade me.

But Palmer wants to do more than persuade – Inventing the Renaissance is her way of teaching readers how to reason about history. This starts when she details the lives of 15 different “characters” of the period in section 3. In the following section, she uses that setup to explain, with readers’ newfound knowledge, how hard it is to satisfyingly define Renaissance humanism (in many ways, the defining movement for the time. She also contrasts the Renaissance with the “try everything” age that followed it, using that to define the boundaries of the age.

IInventing the Renaissance is a crash course in historical thinking with the Renaissance as a vehicle, and I really appreciated Palmer sharing what goes on “behind the curtain”. If you’re looking for a light pop history read, this may not be the book; if you want to expand your historical thinking powers, it’s perfect.

(Side note – this kept popping up in my feeds recently, so I assumed it was relatively new. But scrolling old photos, I found I’d taken a photo of the hardback in Florence last summer! So – reading destiny?)

A historical true-crime retelling: The Girl from Greenwich Street

I’m a bit of a themed reader, and I decided to try out something colonial this Fourth of July. Lauren Willig’s The Girl from Greenwich Street was the clear standout from that reading pile – even outside of patriotic holidays.

The Girl from Greenwich Street follows Alexander Hamilton, Aaron Burr, and others as they experience the investigation and courtroom drama of America’s first murder trial. Rather than treating the case as a historical puzzle, Willig recreates it as a deeply human story. By extending beyond Hamilton’s (more idealistic, justice-oriented) and Burr’s (more pragmatic, political) perspectives to those of the victim’s family and even the (ultimately hapless) prosecutor, Willig highlights the human toll of crime.

She also does a wonderful job of elucidating just the right legal points to get her reader through the trial. For this lay reader, it feels like an impressive feat of legal history. The American legal system, as well as forensic technology, have evolved greatly in the last two centuries. Establishing clearly what lines of investigation or argument would “play” and why is no small feat. The Girl from Greenwich Street managed to be both intellectually engaging and thoughtfully humane about one of the most sensational stories of its era – a wonderful read (ideally by a crackling fire).

Two cozies: History Lessons and Moonlight Murder

From real historical thinking to the cozier (more fictional) variety – next is History Lessons by Zoe B. Wallbrook. The story follows a young history professor as she investigates an on-campus murder of a fellow professor. There’s romance, academic politics, and a decent puzzle; Daphne’s community and family also serve as intriguing (if sometimes goofy) additions.

History Lessons is, first and foremost, a cozy mystery. There’s a (sometimes forced) romantic subplot; sometimes Daphne has a “protest too much” flavor that leads to her strong reliance on non-campus community. But the story is well-written, and as a professor’s daughter, the references to academic life hit home. Nor did I feel Wallbrook resorts to the “cheap tricks” of many modern cozies when it comes to revealing the culprit. Overall, I hope Daphne gets another outing (though perhaps just a few – 15 on-campus murders may beggar belief).

I can say much the same for Uzma Jalaluddin’s Moonlight Murder, a continuation of her Detective Aunty series. Like Detective Aunty, Moonlight Murder follows Kausar Khan as she investigates a murder in the Golden Crescent. This desi Miss Marple uses her social connections to dig into her granddaughter’s friend’s death – and to uncover more about her own son’s death along the way.

Jalaluddin does an excellent job weaving together different elements of diaspora life – how schools and communities of worship intersect to create a rich tapestry of (sometimes fraught) relationships. This is a story that requires Kausar Aunty to understand her own culture, as well as to look outside her own assumptions for past behavior.

It’s this growth and personal connection that set Kausar Aunty firmly in modern detective fiction. Where both she and Miss Marple use their social position to uncover information, Kausar Aunty uses that information not simply to solve abstract crime, but to create her own catharsis and growth. I hope we get to see her keep growing (though not sure how much more personally connected crime I’ll believe from one lovely aunty).

Two anniversary re-reads: The Murder of Roger Ackroyd and The Eyre Affair

2026 is a year of anniversaries! It’s (very famously) 100 years of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd; it’s also (less famously) 25 years of The Eyre Affair – one of my favorite literary meta-mysteries of all time. Anniversaries, of course, come with special editions. So I’ve been indulging in re-reads of these two favorite mysteries, each with their own anniversary twist.

Over the past few months, I’ve been enjoying the audiobook edition of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. I’ve read this classic tens of times, and I can never get over the joy of the solve. But listening to it in audiobook format (often while knitting) has forced me to slow down and appreciate the finer points of the setup anew. 100 years later, I still find myself surprised at the many layers of hints and clues that Christie left for us to find.

I’ve been having an equally fun time rediscovering The Eyre Affair, a long time favorite. For this 25th anniversary, Fforde and his publishers released a special annotated edition, with Fforde’s comments on his writing, how it relates to other / future novels, and callouts to the many, many references in the text. I’ve always loved the intricacy of Fforde’s work and getting this detailed insider view into the process of a favorite author has been a real treat. I’m currently working my way back through Thursday Next ahead of the release of Dark Reading Matter later this year – so more to come on this front.

Bits and bobs; odds and ends

I have a confession to make – I’ve been putting off writing this post for a while. A combination of guilt at my lack of posts (compounded each week) and anxiety at any real theme to my reading has made me postpone, and postpone, and postpone. And yet, it has felt so good to put fingers to keyboard again and share some of these recent favorites.

And, of course, in the process of writing and reflecting, I found a theme or two. First – I like the realism that can come from expertise, from authors writing what they know. Palmer is a historical expert; Wallbrook, a history professor; Willig, a trained attorney. Even Jalaluddin draws on her lived experience of the desi diaspora. And this depth of understanding speaks to my curiosity, to my need to learn while I read.

That curiosity is my second theme – a good reminder of why I like to read. Reading allows me to learn from experiences and perspectives and expertise not my own. I’m certainly not a Ph.D. historian, but I can see a little more how they reason after Inventing the Renaissance. Reading the annotated The Eyre Affair gave me new insight into the work required to bring so many disparate ideas together into one story. And The Murder of Roger Ackroyd is the ultimate in perspective-taking.

I’m excited to keep coming back to the reading well and sharing even more reads that broaden my perspective horizons with you. Hopefully, it will be sooner this time.

Until next time, stay cozy, and stay curious!