Cecily is a bold and brilliant reimagining of one of the most overlooked power players of the Wars of the Roses, Cecily Neville, Duchess of York. In this incredible novel, Garthwaite resurrects a woman who was relegated to the margins of history and gave her a voice as commanding and complex as the times she lived through.
Kindle edition
History tells us that Cecily must have been a woman of great character. As the wife of a high ranking noble in the English court and a daughter of the house of Neville, Cecily is not merely a noblewoman, she is a strategist, a political operator, and a survivor. In a time where women were relegated to the distaff and the cradle, Cecily held her own among the peers of England and France. I love how Garthwaite has portrayed Cecily. Her use of language and semantics is unapologetically fierce. Cecily is driven, calculating, and deeply loyal to her family’s cause. She is also flawed. Her love for her sons, her only weakness and ultimately will cost her dearly.
The novel spans decades of turmoil, from the fall of her husband Richard, Duke of York, to the rise and reign of her sons Edward IV and Richard III. Through it all, Cecily remains at the heart of the action, not as a passive observer, but as a woman who shapes events from behind the scenes. Garthwaite’s prose is taut and evocative, capturing both the grandeur of court politics and the intimate griefs of a mother watching her family unravel.
What sets Cecily apart is its refusal to romanticise the brutality and heartbreak of medieval motherhood. The heartstrings are definitely pulled when youthink about the number of pregnancy losses, stillbirths and infant losses she experienced. In a time where the childbed was a path paved to the graveyard; Cecily used it to wield power. This is not a tale of damsels and chivalry—it’s a story of power, survival, and the brutal cost of ambition. Garthwaite’s Cecily is a woman of her time, but also ahead of it: she understands the game, and she plays it better than most men around her.
For readers who first met Cecily in Sharon Penman’s The Sunne in Splendour, Garthwaite’s novel offers a deeper, more personal exploration. It’s a fantastic story about a strong woman who lived through unimaginable loss—husband, cousin, sons—all sacrificed for the Yorkist cause. And while her greatest weakness may have been her love for her children, it’s also what makes her so achingly human.
Cecily is historical fiction at its finest: vivid, uncompromising, and utterly absorbing. Garthwaite doesn’t just resurrect a forgotten duchess—she reclaims her legacy.
No surprises that after I read this one, I had to read the sequel.
Coming up with this list was horrendously difficult. I probably agonised over it for longer than it took to name my children, and with far more existential dread.
What if I forgot a book that changed my life?
What if I picked something too obvious?
Too obscure? Too emotionally manipulative?
Eventually, after much soul-searching, tea-drinking, and dramatic sighing, I settled on ten. I will preface it and say they may not necessarily the “best” books of the century—but they’re the ten books I think are the ‘my‘ books. My literary lifeboats. And because I clearly enjoy suffering, I’ve explained why each one made the cut.
My Brilliant Friend (2011) by Elena Ferrante
A colleague recommended this one to me back in 2019. Book one of a four-part saga that nails the messy magic of female friendship. Elena and Lila are best mates, worst rivals, and emotional sparring partners. Ferrante helped me realise that friendship isn’t always soft—it’s sharp, complicated, and utterly formative.
A Man Called Ove (2012) by Fredrik Backman
My best read of 2018—and the gateway drug to all things Backman. Grumpy old man meets chaotic neighbours, and somehow it’s a masterclass in love, loss, and chosen family. Proof that sometimes, the best family isn’t the one you’re born into—it’s the one that barges in uninvited.
The Tattooist of Auschwitz (2018) by Heather Morris
Heart-wrenching and unforgettable. Based on interviews with Holocaust survivor Lale Sokolov, this novel brings humanity to horror. It’s a story of love, resilience, and survival in the darkest of places—and it left me absolutely gutted. Furthermore, for the non-readers in my life- there is a TV series.
Wolf Hall (2009) by Hilary Mantel
Book one of Mantel’s Tudor trilogy, starring the ever-scheming Thomas Cromwell. This was another recommendation from a colleague. Wolf Hall is lyrical, slyly funny, and so well written it makes other historical fiction feel like homework. A must for history buffs—and anyone who likes their politics bloody and their prose brilliant. TV series available for the non-readers. Different note – Alison Weir just released a title called “Cardinal” based on the life of Thomas Wolsey … so will need to pop that on my list to read soon.
A Thousand Splendid Suns (2007) by Khaled Hosseini
Heartbreaking and beautiful. Set in Taliban-era Afghanistan, it follows two women whose lives collide in tragedy—and transform through love. Their bond, almost mother-daughter, is a testament to resilience, sacrifice, and the fierce power of chosen family. This was an accidental read, I found this book on a plane, left by a forgetful passenger… I still have it on my bookshelf. It has been well read and is still much loved.
Circe (2018) by Madeline Miller
I’m a sucker for Greek mythology, and this feminist retelling hit all the right notes. Circe steps out of the shadows and into her own power—witch, exile, goddess, woman. Strong female themes, lyrical prose, and a fresh perspective on ancient tales. Loved every spellbinding page. This book is far better than Song of Achilles, also by Madeline Miller. I felt like slapping Achilles more times than I could count in that novel.
Go Tell the Bees That I Am Gone (2021) by Diana Gabaldon
Book nine of the Outlander saga, and a rich tapestry of time-travelling drama. Jamie, Claire, Brianna, Roger, Lord John Grey, and William Ransom all get their moment—and it’s beautifully woven together. Such emotion. Jamie and Claire at their best. A love story for the ages. I have included this in the list because it is one of my favourite series, as I couldn’t squeeze in Cross Stitch (wrong century!), but this one carries the torch. BTW – I am waiting desperately for Book 10. Hurry up Diana!!
Burial Rites (2013) by Hannah Kent
A beautifully written fictional take on the life of Agnes Magnúsdóttir, Iceland’s last execution. It forces you to confront 19th-century prejudice, gender roles, and how reputation can be shaped more by rumour than truth. Quietly devastating—and deeply human. This was a senior text when I was teaching in the ACT and I read it as part of my curriculum planning. An absolutely brilliant novel and quite frankly, should be taught more in schools.
Hallmarked Man (2025) by Robert Galbraith (aka J K Rowling)
This one was hard as I nearly shoehorned in Harry Potter, but alas, that was from last century. Then I dithered over Deathly Hallows, but it’s book seven, and I’ve got a “book one” theme going (see Wolf Hall, My Brilliant Friend). Therefore it seemed logical that Cuckoo’s Calling made the list. But in the end, as I selected Book 9 of the Outlander series, I felt that it was OK that Hallmarked Man won out over the other 7 books in the series. Additionally, it is the best book I’ve read this year. .So, it’s in. No regrets. (Okay, maybe a few – I agonised over this one the most).
The Nightingale (2015) by Kristin Hannah
I cried buckets. This heartfelt tale of a woman risking everything to save Jewish children under the Nazi occupation of France. First it was for her best friend’s son… then it was another woman’s son…. and daughter. This book is a gut-punch of love, loss, friendship, and motherhood. It broke me, then stitched me back together.
So there you have it…
Ten books. Ten emotional rollercoasters. And one very frazzled reader. If you’re brave enough to try making your own list, I salute you. Just stock up on tea, tissues, and a sturdy spreadsheet.
Learning through the Library 