Katherine
A book of strange, magical quality. On its second reading, it loses nothing of its charm, its mystique - there are always tiny details one forgets, pieces of the puzzle which didn't make sense the first time around. This is the book which inspired me to begin writing again. It is also the book I associate most closely with one of the most magical periods in my own life. Anyone who hasn't read it, should. Anyone who has, should read it again. Neil Gaiman is, without doubt, one of the best writers of fiction alive - if one of the oddest.
I picked this up for next to nothing in a charity shop, purely on the strength of the title: ‘The Perfect King' is a strong opening move for any biography, and I wanted to see if Ian Mortimer could prove it.
Highly detailed and clearly written - although Mortimer does have a weird habit of never referring to events by their relative distance in time from one another, so you constantly have to check when the hell you are. This is definitely a biography, not a work of history - you follow Edward through his life in sequence, with very little connection to things happening elsewhere which do not involve him directly (with the occasional exception of his three eldest sons), which can leave the narrative feeling a little isolated from events.
My biggest problem with the book is that it dips far too often into hagiography. The title is explained away early on as deriving from prophetic expectations of the young Edward, expectations he felt he had to live up to, but then Mortimer goes on to seemingly try to prove the thesis anyway. Edward's warmaking, even at its most brutal, is brushed aside as just ‘the way things went back then', despite occasional allusions to contemporary moral outrage, and this trend of making excuses is extended into the king's personal life as well. The final couple of chapters do depart from this, but I found it quite telling that this coincides with Edward's increasing physical infirmity and mental disability, as if the only thing Edward ever did wrong was get old and sick.
In Mortimer's favour, he did convince me that his argument that Edward II survived Berkley Castle in 1327 is plausible, something I had been VERY sceptical of previously. He also treats both Isabella of France and Edward III's mistress Alice Perrers with far more charity than most historians usually deign to give them, falling into the misogynistic stereotypes of the chroniclers they are drawing on. Also, he uses the phrase ‘avarice of capitalism' during one of his rare forays into broader economic history, which wins him points from me.
All in all, worth reading for a detailed, favourable overview of the man Edward III, but lacking in broader context and any sustained critique of the king and his society.
Wide-ranging, witty and sharp, this book provides a robust challenge to the anti-theism of Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens and the New Atheist movement (not to mention my own 16-year-old self!). It blends its critique of New Atheism with an equally strong criticism of the ways in which Christianity in particular has betrayed it's revolutionary origins.
Two criticisms: Firstly, Eagleton is perhaps a little over-eager to use the mature, sophisticated, theological version of Christianity to excuse the errors of the more literalist varieties; secondly, his dismissal of post-modernism is both seemingly total, and relatively unjustified. Nonetheless, I give the book five stars simply because of how much I enjoyed it! If only all philosophy was this well-written....
Extremely well-written, readable, and comprehensive, covering the entirety of the reigns of Edward the Confessor, Harold Godwineson, and William the Conqueror, as well as an extensive prologue and epilogue. Morris takes the Norman side on the key legal questions of whether Edward promised the Crown to William, and whether Harold in his turn pledged to support this claim, but I think the chronicle evidence supports this view. Certainly, neither the Confessor nor the Conqueror emerges from this account covered in glory, but the Godwine family bear the brunt of criticism - again, not unfairly. All in all, well worth reading for a detailed but not dusty overview of the Conquest and its aftermath.
Marshall blends history with geography to attempt to explain contemporary geopolitics. He does a fairly good job of making the case that we underestimate the importance of geography in relations between states, and the book is well-written and engaging. I was thinking as I was reading that this was someone who would get on with Jared Diamond, and then a brief quote from the section on Africa, plus the fact that Guns, Germs & Steel heads up the bibliography confirmed my suspicions.
By starting with Russia, and then wrapping back to it in the final Arctic section, Marshall lays his cards on the table as to where he thinks the most geopolitical turmoil in the coming century is likely to come from. He may not be wrong. I would quibble with his characterisation of the Middle East, particularly the Arab Spring - which I happened to write my dissertation on - as I think in his haste to get back to geography he undersells the economic and political causes of the movement. Still, mostly the book is highly informative, and well worth reading if you have an interest in geopolitics.
Amusing, at times alarming, and above all very informative about the failings of well-meaning alternative medicine nuts, disingenuous charlatans, incompetent science journalists, malevolent pharmaceutical companies, and willfully close-minded politicians.
Anyone with a vague interest in how evidence can be manipulated or misinterpreted, or in the state of public understanding of science as a whole, should pick it up.
This book is a veritable goldmine of information on the origins, development and ideology of the second wave of black metal. The first section deals with the musical and thematic predecessors of the scene, running from the birth of the Devil's music in Mississippi Delta blues, through Sabbath and Zeppelin and into the first wave bands like Bathory and Venom. The central section looks at the rise of the key Norwegian second wave bands themselves, focusing on Mayhem and the stories of that band's three central characters: Euronymous, Dead and Count Grishnakh. Grishnakh, or Varg Vikernes, is a particular focus, and much of this section is made up of interviews with the man himself and a detailed exploration of the motives behind his actions and those of his contemporaries. The final section pulls back to look at the scenes in other countries, such as Germany, Sweden and Russia, as well as a more abstract assessment of the ideologies at the root of black metal culture. The book overall is very interview-driven, and its assessments of the interviewees' words are mainly objective; only at a few points do the authors' own views creep through. The book is also not really focused on the music itself, looking more at the psychology of the scene and its members, and given its focus on criminal behaviour and extremist thought is not a book for the faint-hearted. However, it is a definite must-read for anyone interested in black metal's dark past, or in the influence of Satanism and paganism on modern culture more generally.
This book begins with a relation of the Battle of Hastings and the issues surrounding it, and then goes into a detailed discussion of the legal issues surrounding the changes in tenure and landholding, followed by a look at changes in architecture and ecclesiastical organisation. It lacks, however, any section on the methods by which the Normans completed and consolidated their conquest of England after Hastings, which is frustrating.
A succinct and enlightening summary of the evidence and scholarship on the causes and manifestations of Roman imperialism. Erskine does not make too many of his own conclusions here, but those he does make are well thought-out and well-supported. The book also contains a significant selection of primary source extracts, extensively referenced throughout the main text.
Browning's history is a clear, concise and immensely readable history of the Emperor Julian. It would make a brilliant introduction to the subject, although it has a tendency in places to get rather deeply into theological questions which might prove somewhat impenetrable to newcomers. The only real flaws are a) the lack of footnotes and b) the over-reliance, perhaps, on psychological detours to explain some of the Emperor's actions.
The book is set out more or less as a chronological biography from Julian's birth to his accession to the throne as sole Augustus in 361. From there, it takes on a more thematic aspect as it describes his policies and movements throughout his time in Naissus, Constantinople and then on to Antioch, where the narrative picks up again and swiftly carries the emperor to his greatest triumph - against the Sassanid Persians at their own capital of Ctesiphon - and his final end on the return journey.
The major downside to this work is Bowersock's clear, at times vitriolic disdain for the Emperor Julian and many of his policies. In the early part of the book, he writes seemingly as an apologist for Constantius II, portraying him in a far more favourable light than most other historians of the period. He castes Julian in the mold of a zealot and a bigot, and eventually as a persecutor of Christians, something which most historians stop short of. This is not the book one should read first on Julian, as I can imagine it would colour one's views irrevocably against the man.
Despite this, however, Bowersock's writing is clear, his style engaging, and his research clearly meticulous. If one is able to see beyond the surface layer of strongly opinionated commentary, an incredible amount of knowledge in a short run of pages (only 119 for the main section) is revealed. For that reason, this is a must-read for anyone with a solid background knowledge of Julian, looking to learn more.
Well-written, engaging and funny - though not as funny as Mitchell is on TV, it surprised me to learn. Still, Mitchell is one half of probably my favourite comedy duo, and it was very interesting to see where it all came from. Although he is WRONG about The Lord of the Rings. And capitalism, it transpires. We need more anarcho-communist TV comedians. But I digress. If you like David Mitchell, read this. And be prepared for the penultimate chapter to actually be some of the most thought-provoking non-fiction you've read in a while
Mango's views on Byzantine (or Eastern Roman, for the pedants) history and culture are presented clearly and forthrightly. He certainly isn't afraid to conceal his own opinions (and his occasional asides comparing the stultified Byzantine state with the declining Soviet Union of the 1980s stop being funny after the first few) but the writing is clear, the ideas interesting, and the book well laid-out. Those looking for a chronological history of the Byzantine Empire should look elsewhere; the book is organised in three sections devoted to the physical and political environment of the Byzantines, their conceptual world and their artistic legacy. All in all, a very good introduction to the subject
A useful abridgment of approximately the first, and most important, half of the great work. Running from the origins of the Roman Empire in the Augustan reforms through to Alaric's reduction of the ‘Eternal' City in 410 CE - focusing, of course, on the latter part of that span -this book is an invaluable resource in setting out the sweep of the decline of antiquity's most powerful empire. One day, I shall bite the bullet and read the original, but until I have a month or so spare to set aside, this will do very nicely
An excellent book, well-written and gripping in a way few histories of this length are. Harman sets out his vision of the class-based progression of human societies and the rise and fall of different socio-economic systems with clarity and persuasive argument. While I might quibble a few points here and there, in the main this is a magisterial work which any student of history should absolutely read
An excellent explanation of a theory we've all heard of but which few non-physicists, I fear, have much grasp of. Building up from the basics, through general relativity and quantum mechanics, Greene paints a phenomenally rich and compelling picture of superstring theory (and its derivatives) with analogies perfectly suited to make this ephemeral set of ideas intuitive. I'm convinced! A must-read.
An interesting treatment of a topic all too little discussed in contemporary historiography. Moorhouse writes with wit, clarity and an engaging style which gave the book the character almost of a novel whilst preserving its academic credentials. My one criticism would be the tendency at times to associate Stalinist Communism with the communist/socialist movement as a whole - not true even in the 1930s and '40s when it was perhaps the most accurate. Otherwise very good and an enjoyable read.
This book should be on the curriculum for every student of history, anthropology, geography or linguistics. While perhaps not every conclusion is correct in every particular, Diamond's broad thesis that environmental, rather than genetic or cultural, factors are the predominant cause of the broad sweep of human history seems incontrovertible. Moreover, the wide-ranging examples used to support the thesis are not only compelling but individually fascinating in their own right. The proposition that history can and should be considered from a scientific point of view is also one I thoroughly agree with. The book is engaging, eminently readable and Diamond is clearly a man of broad knowledge and interests and delights in relaying this to his readers. It's hard to praise Guns, Germs & Steel enough.