Book Review: Son of Peace: A Modern Historical Novel of Buddha by James Field

What Happens When a Prince Walks Away from Everything?

You’ve heard the story, or at least the outline: a prince sees suffering for the first time—real, raw, human pain—and walks out on his golden life. But how many of us stop to wonder: what exactly pushes a man, born to rule, to renounce everything? What kind of courage does it take to leave behind silk and certainty for silence and self-inquiry?

James Field’s Son of Peace doesn’t come to dazzle. It comes to sit quietly beside you, like a monk under a tree, and tell the story of Siddhartha Gautama—the man who became the Buddha—in a way that feels grounded, human, and urgently relevant.

This isn’t a glittery retelling. It’s not historical fiction dressed up in melodrama or mysticism. Instead, Field’s prose unfolds like a quiet pilgrimage. He takes us through dusty palace courtyards and into the forests where Siddhartha wandered, not with flair but with steady, respectful attention. The result? A narrative that neither sensationalizes nor sterilizes, but invites reflection.

The heart of the book lies in Siddhartha’s awakening—not the lightning-bolt kind, but the kind that grows slowly, like dawn creeping over a horizon. We watch a young man stripped of illusions: about comfort, permanence, the promises of power. And then we witness his rebuilding—not through conquest, but contemplation.

Field doesn’t just hand us facts or dogma. He shows us the soil from which Buddhism emerged—the ferment of philosophies and beliefs, the spiritual restlessness of the time, and the radical simplicity of the “middle path.” It’s not hard to see why that idea still resonates: when the world swings between extremes—overwork and burnout, excess and denial—Buddha’s call for balance feels almost revolutionary.

At times, you might wish for more voices in the chorus. What did those around Siddhartha think of his choices? How did his absence ripple through the world he left behind? These questions hang like mist in the background—present, but not fully explored. And yet, maybe that’s part of the point. Not all journeys can be witnessed in full.

This isn’t a page-turner in the usual sense. You won’t find cliffhangers or cinematic drama. But for readers looking not just to learn about the Buddha, but to sit with the same questions he asked—What is suffering? Why do we cling? Can peace be found in a world that’s always changing?—this book offers something quietly profound.

Son of Peace reads like a slow-moving river. It won’t sweep you off your feet. But if you wade in patiently, it just might carry you somewhere deeper—toward the still waters of understanding.