Customer Reviews

God's Secretaries: The Making of the King James Bible (P.S.)

5 star:		(35)
4 star:		(23)
3 star:		(17)
2 star:		(6)
1 star:		(4)

 

 

There are a good many churches in America who insist that the use of any Bible other than the King James Version is anathema. The joke goes that one of the members of such a sect declared, "If it was good enough for Saint Paul, it is good enough for me." The truth is that the KJV is good enough for any English speaker, more majestic than any other version, and that it is a foundation of the English-speaking world more than even Shakespeare is. How this astonishing book came to be composed is Adam Nicolson's story in _God's Secretaries: The Making of the King James Bible_ (HarperCollins). It is a successful account of how diverse personalities, European history, and religious fashions produced a timeless classic.

There were English Bibles before 1611. The KJV grew out of a conference at Hampton Court where the new king took up grievances of the Puritans; the Bible was a byproduct of the conference. James was heartened by the idea of a new translation. He distrusted the widely used Geneva Bible because it had marginal notes about how people ought to view kings, notes he viewed as seditious. Less self-servingly, he thought an authoritative translation might bring religious peace to his conflicted land. The translation was his personal project. There are plenty of jokes about how committees invariably complicate rather than solve problems, but Nicolson shows that in Jacobean England, individuality was distrusted and "Jointness was the acknowledged virtue of the age." The KJV was a product of 54 translators, broken into teams and organized in a fashion that would befuddle a modern CEO, and they followed general or specific rules laid down by King James. The notes and directives generated by the translators have been largely lost, but Nicolson is able to tell us about a few of the translators themselves, a mixed bunch. A combination of puritans, prudes, drunkards, scholars, libertines, hotheads, and other eccentrics were perhaps just the crew to be involved in translating a work of such breadth. Among the most interesting parts of Nicholson's book are comparative translations. He gives a history of Luke 1:57, for instance, to show how it was rendered as "Now Elizabeths full time came that she should bee delivered, and she brought forth a son." Nicholson points out the richness of "full" meaning plump, perfect, or overbrimming. He also gives us another committee translation, performed over three centuries after the KJV, the New English Bible: "Now the time came for Elizabeth's child to be born, and she gave birth to a son." There is nothing at all remarkable in these flat words; they might have come from a social worker's report. Nicolson says of these translators, "Wanting timelessness, they achieved the language of the memo."

Recently we have been treated to gender-free translations of the Bible, or the Ebonics Bible, as attempts to make the book relevant or up to date. There are also "modern" translations into American English that are as dull as they are easy to read. Such translations will quickly themselves be out of date curiosities, but the KJV will never be antiquated. _God's Secretaries_ is a fine tribute to the imperishable majesty of its words, and to the particular Jacobean circumstances that brought it about.

As always, visiting and reading the words of the previous 63 reviews has proved to be enlightening and useful. Because of certain comments and objections offered in the past, it seems to me that I should begin with statements of what this book is NOT:

--This book is not an advocate of any particular religious issue, sect or cause.

--This book is not a Bible study or, indeed, any sort of religious study guide. Those seeking an exposition of religious truth should turn away right now. This is not for you.

--This book is not an academic text, being largely free of any formal thesis and paying no particular homage to whatever Theory happens to be on the academic boil these days. Academic drudges burrowing for material with which to footnote their footnotes will be wasting their time here in a manner even more dramatically pointless than usual.

--This book is not a self-consciously designed "easy read" written in words and phrases suitable for the comprehension of fourth graders. This author occasionally dares to quote people who lived four hundred years ago in their own words, styles and spellings. Consider this passage: "I am persuaded his Royall mynde reioyceth more with good hope, wch he hathe for happy successe of that worke [the new Bible], then of his peace concluded with Spayne." [Page 65-66 of the hardcover edition] If that taxes your reading skills to the breaking point, seek enlightenment elsewhere.

This book does provide an overview--or perhaps more accurately, a sketch of religion and politics in 17th century England. In many ways, the two words were alternate terms for the same phenomenon, much as they are in Baghdad today. (A single generation after this translation of the Bible was made, the intertwining of religion and politics would become almost as deadly as it is in Baghdad today.)

The book offers thumbnail biographies--and in a few cases, somewhat more than that--of the fifty or so grave and learned scholars tasked with preparing the translation. In so far as the records survive, it outlines their organization and their contributions--for even in those long-ago days there were bosses and drudges.

Finally, the book deals with the majestic 17th century translation of the Bible as a literary entity. Here, at last, Adam Nicolson becomes an advocate. While acknowledging that scholarship and learning have made advances in the three centuries since the translation was made, he argues forcefully that no English translation made before or since has matched the King James Version in effectiveness, directness, power and sublimity.

Nicolson is such an advocate of the grand style of the KJV that it affects his own writing style. He does not emulate the actual style of the Bible--a thing, he makes clear, that was deliberately chosen and already noticeably archaic in the early 17th century, but he is much more orotund than is common in our piping times. He models his prose more on Gibbon or Macaulay than, say, Hemingway.

Consider the author's handling of a meeting at Hampton Court that involved the newly crowned King James, some gorgeously bedecked senior bishops of the Church of England and four black-clad Puritan ministers. All were assembled to bring sweet harmony to the land under a King who liked to think of himself as a peacemaker--and who sometimes was. That, of course, turned out to be a flat failure, but one of the Puritans, John Reynolds, almost casually remarked that the ministers he represented would like to have "one only translation of ye Bible to be authenticall and read in ye churche." Richard Bancroft, the Bishop of London (who a few years earlier had taken up a pike among his own armed guards to repulse the Earl of Essex's ragtag rebellion and who would soon become Archbishop of Canterbury) sneered at that, saying "If every man's humour might be followed, there would be no end of translating."

To everyone's surprise, the King commanded that a translation be made. In Adam Nicolson's long-breathed, parentheses-strewn, semi-colon-laden words, it was a "translation that was to be uniform (in other words with no contentious Geneva-style interpretations set alongside or within the text); with the learned authority of Oxford and Cambridge (which, at least in their upper echelons, were profoundly conservative institutions ...); to be revised by the bishops (the very influence that Reynolds did not want); then given, for goodness' sake, to the Privy Council, in effect a central censorship committee with which the government would see that its stamp was on the text, no deviation or subversion allowed; and finally to James himself, whose hostility to any whiff of radicalism ... had been clear enough. And this ferociously episcopal and monarchist Bible was to be the only translation to be read in church: `no other'." [Page 60.]

It must be pointed out, however, that Nicolson's prose does not always march to the solemn beat of the kettledrums ("for goodness' sake"), but sometimes dances to a merrier piper: "For these Puritans, and in a way we can scarcely understand now, the words of the scriptures were thought to provide a direct, almost intravenous access to the divine." [Page 135]

This is a good, middleweight book that, so far as I can tell, does not push unduly beyond the bounds of the scanty evidence. It can be justly criticized for being as much a series of raconteurial anecdotes as a logically-structured book. Its underlying preference for style over content is, at the very least, open for debate.

Four stars--but well worth reading in any case.

A MINOR OBSERVATION:

Adam Nicolson is obviously an Englishman, but my American edition from HarperCollins consistently uses the typically North American term, "King James Version," rather than the English "Authorised Version." I therefore suspect that other Americanisms may also have been edited into the English text.

These observations come from a reader who is a scholar of neither the Bible nor British history and for whom Nicolson's book was the first venture into literature pertaining to the creation of the King James Bible. In multiple ways, then, these are all first impressions. They also represent the reactions of a reader who was steeped in the conservative Protestant ethic prevalent in the Bible Belt of the United States, a broad area of the country where the King James Bible is taken as the literal Word of God and is not to be submitted for interpretation, much less translation. Yes, there are many there who fervently believe that every word in the King James Bible is represented precisely as the Christian deity placed it in the minds of the holy ones who set it on paper and that the King James Bible is the only "true" Bible that has ever existed. Even when one does not subscribe to such a literalist and historically ignorant approach to the contents of the Bible, growing up in such an environment leaves lasting impressions. With this as background, I found Nicolson's work informative and enlightening.

Understand that Nicolson's book is not "Bible study": It does not deal with issues of spirituality; it does not attempt to explicate biblical passages; and it does not care whether or not heaven and hell exist or whether or not God is dead or alive-or has ever existed. It does deal with the social, cultural, economic, and governmental milieu that existed at the time King James VI of Scotland and I of England directed that a new translation be made of the Greek and Hebrew texts comprising the Bible. It explains why yet another Bible was to be created-in addition to the multiple versions that already existed. It explains why, despite the efforts of six companies of Translators, the world has never enjoyed a totally authentic copy of the King James Bible (think "printers' errors," including such egregious mistakes as replacing the name "Jesus" with the name "Judas").

As do some other reviewers represented here, I feel that Nicolson has perhaps tried to make too strong a case for the power of the language used in the Bible. In this instance and others, he is dealing with highly subjective topics, and I do not always find his arguments persuasive. He is also hampered by the fact that we are now four centuries removed from the events he describes, and much evidence has been lost to the passage of time. Consequently, there is little concrete cause-and-effect in the book and much surmise and supposition. Are Nicolson's conclusions accurate? Alas, the most we can say at this point in history is "perhaps."

The casual reader also needs to be forewarned that Nicolson's use of language is, at its best, erudite and, at its worst, obfuscated. Have a dictionary handy before plunging into Nicolson's text and be prepared to add to your existing vocabulary because this book can be a learning experience in more ways than one!

Is this the best book available on Jacobean society in the early 17th century in England? I have no idea for, as I stated in the beginning, this was my first venture into that particular subject. Is it sometimes challenging reading? Yes. Does its reliance upon conclusions based on subjective interpretations produce frustration in readers hoping for concrete evidence? Again, yes. Do these weaknesses condemn the book? Definitely not, at least not for a reader newly come to this subject, for there is much here to be learned about the far-reaching theological conflicts between the austere Puritans and the Catholic-influenced Anglicans, about the other versions of the Bible extant when the King James Bible was being written, and about the King himself. And did you know that the King James Bible was NOT the one that the Puritans brought with them to the New World? Nicolson's book will cause many Americans-at least those of us who are products of the Bible Belt-to correct quite a few erroneous assumptions. It is indeed a learning experience and worth the effort to study it.

The language of the King James Bible is both beautiful and powerful. Nicolson, in "God's Secretaries", writes an account both of the motivation behind and the translation process of this bible. To better understand why the translators choose the form of language they did you must first understand the mind-set of Jacobean England. And Nicolson spends much of the book at the task of describing this world. His imagery runs from the superb, "London was a sucking sink of iniquity, with something murderous and dissolving at the core", to the rather tedious, "...he is in many ways its hero; as broad as the great Bible itself, scholarly, political, passionate, agonized, in love with the English language, endlessly investigating its possibilities, worldy, saintly, sensuous, courageous, craven, if not corrupt then at least compromised, deeply engaged in pastoral care, generous, loving...." At first, I found it difficult to become involved in the story. It was somewhat the uneven style and somewhat the fact that much of the beginning is devoted to background. But persistence pays off. Nicolson's book, once he gets going, becomes interesting and enlightening, particularly when he finally gets to the Bible itself. The translators were a contradictory bunch of imperfect men. Lancelot Andrewes, one of the central translators, could be at once cruel and insensitive and devotedly passionate. With the available information Nicolson sketches in their lives, some in more detail than others. Because of the dearth of information he is only really able to write about a handful of the translators and there are gaps and holes in the history. But he is able tell enough of the tale that they become, if not alive, then reasonable facsimiles. Toward the end of the book he compares and contrasts various biblical passages from other translations against the King James. Nicolson's goal, and I believe he achieves it splendidly, is for the reader to get a sense not only of why the translators chose the words and phrases they did, but how much more rhythm and richness is in the King James compared to Tyndale's et al translations.

Nicolson's preference for the King James Bible, and for Jacobean thought, is clear. Yet, even in his bias, he does provide some convincing arguments. Much criticism has been leveled at the accuracy and clarity of the translation. He acknowledges that it is fraught with error - particularly in the Hebrew sections. But with respect to the language itself, he contends that the translators spent much time arguing over the specific words to use. And their selection criteria included, among other things, richness of meaning and rhythm. Their translation was meant to replace the Bishops Bible and so to be read out loud during sermons. Modern day society tends to crave the specific, the exact. Jacobean England did not. And the translation reflects that. For Nicolson, the King James Bible still holds power and authority precisely because it hasn't been reduced to a common language and because it still retains a richness and drama that, for him, modern translations lack in their enthusiasm for exactitude. His answer to the criticism that the Tyndale Bible is the greater of the two since the King James Bible takes 80-90% of its material from Tyndale's earlier translation is that that 10-20% difference is what counts. Where Tyndale is clumsy and halting the King James is majestic, rhythmic, and powerful. He also points out that the translators did not set out to make something new, but rather to improve on what had already been done; and that this was to some extent driven by political motives. All-in-all Nicolson's analysis is interesting, biased and yet convincing despite that, and well worth the time to read.

Adam Nicolson's account of the re-translation of the Bible from Latin, Greek and Hebrew texts is a surprisingly riveting tale. The narrative--how more than 50 Translators managed to complete the task on-time and with a surprisingly uniform "voice"--would be an accomplishment in itself.

But he adds much more: There's a wonderful social commentary on life at the Jacobean court and the astounding contrasts within King James's personality. Throughout the book, Nicholson weaves in interesting character sketches of the diverse group who came together for this monumental task. He adds concise discussions of the doctrinal issues that were separating the Puritans from the established Church of England, and many protestants will recognize the same issues we see today in discussions of "high church versus low church."

For many bible readers, the Christmas story can only be told in the language of the King James. "God's Secretaries" shows how the placement of a single word can change the rhyhthm of a sentence from poetry to prose. Nicholson even dares to show the errors that the Translators made. The King James is beautiful, yes, but imperfect as any Sunday morning lay reader who has tried to make sense of "He who was sin who knew no sin" knows.

This book will make a wonderful gift for any Epsicopalian, or someone with an interest in popular history of the British Reformation. Then borrow it to read yourself.

Currently, I'm trying to reform my Christianity after a substantial period away from the church and gospel music. I picked up a friend's copy of this book hoping to demystify the circumstances surrounding the King James Bible, the translation of choice for many black americans. This book introduced me to the subject and was worth my time, but I suspect there may be better works on the subject.

The initial historical context was very helpful for me. Understanding that this book was created by a new Scottish king of England to unify his kingdom and further solidify his throne is a major insight for me. The paradox of James with his consuming personality and foreign influences generating this project is powerfully stated. The irony of a man like Lancelot Andrewes, who evaded serving the poor and sick during the plague on London, serving as a chief translator pricks the balloon that these were holy infallible men who had nothing but the unadulterated word of God as their guide. Nicholson makes it clear that this was both a religious and a political project, a sharp contrast to the earlier translation by the martyr Tyndale.

Nicholson admits late in the book that he is not a churchgoer and his interests in the work seem to be more poetic than spiritual. Several specific examples highlight what he feels to be the vastly superior word choices of translators in comparison to both earlier and later translations. He does seem to do a good job of capturing the regalness of the translation.

As someone who has read more thorough historical works, I wanted a more thorough job of fleshing out the history. Several times in the book, Nicholson will find one historical reference that allows him to speculate on the biographical motivations of the translators. At times, Nicholson seemed to oscillate between a series of biographical portraits which may be interesting but divert away from his subject and a meditation on the beauty of the text. He makes a case for how the majesty of the King James Bible parallelled the architectural excess of Jacobean England as well that I was unconvinced by. I wanted more historical details so that I could devise some of my own interpretations to how this book and its authors affect the Bible in practice. Only in the last few pages does he describe what happened to the Bible once it was created.

I feel this book, while helpful, was confused between a historical meditation on the Bible and a choppy biography of the interpreters. I learned a great deal, but I will probably find other books on the subject more helpful. For a popular audience, this readable book may be a good introduction, but I suspect there's better stuff out there.

[3 stars]

"God's Secretaries" is another in a long list of recent histories ("Washington's Crossing," "Paul Revere's Ride," "American Brutus") that uses a single event to shed light on an era. Adam Nicolson does a masterful job of exploring the politics and personalities behind the creation of the King James Bible. I was especially fascinated by the interplay between various early 17th century Protestant sects - Puritans, Episcopalians and Congregationalists. Students of American history will get a better feel for why the Puritans--western Christianity's equivalent of the Taliban--might have been so unwelcome at home. The King James Bible was in part an answer to the Puritan's Geneva Bible, which used deliberately-slanted anti-monarchical translations (e.g., using "tyrant" for "king"!) that made it politically annoying, even subversive.

While I enjoy the King James style, Nicolson was weakest when trumpeting the superiority of the King James to other contemporaneous translations. Seeing various versions side by side, it wasn't altogether clear to me that the King James was the obviously better choice. It doesn't hurt that the king is behind your version. That being said, "God's Secretaries" was a terrific read, full of the anecdotal information that brings history alive.

Nicolson's study of the background and people involved in producing the King James Bible is akin to doing an old jigsaw puzzle where the colours are washed out. You're pretty certain of how it will look when completed. After all, most people have been exposed to the book's purported topic. You have expectations of what you will encounter. Each chapter offers a new piece leading to the assumed final result. Yet each piece is something of a surprise - an unknown character or an obscure event. As the image builds, Nicolson assures you of its relevance. Yet, when the task has been finished, the rendering is almost wholly unexpected.

For once, the renaming of a British publication - the original was "Power and Glory" - was appropriate. Nicolson opens with the accession of King James I of England, but the VI of Scotland. This unusual transformation of a monarch brought about a new wave of stresses to a nation that had endured a succession of religious upheavals over the previous century. From Henry VIII's break with Rome, through an unmitigated Protestantism and sudden reversion to Roman Catholicism, to Elizabeth's long, waffling reign, the British welcomed a king they felt promised religious stability. They hadn't counted on James' unhappy years under Scots Presbyterian mentors. Nicolson's depiction of James is of a man almost obsessed with exercising power over religious matters. If not the subtle initiator, James certainly pounced on the idea of creating a "new" English Bible.

It was an era of Bible writing. The Douai had been recently produced by English Catholics in exile, while the very Presbyterians James loathed had imported Calvin's Geneva text enthusiastically. Anglicans had struggled with earlier English-language versions, from Tyndale through the half-century old Bishop's Bible. Having been smothered by the heavily annotated Geneva version, James was keen to have a "pure" text. Nicolson convenes, almost one at a time, the Translator committee to produce it. Calling them "a disparate lot" is but mildly descriptive. There were stern theologians, frowning at any challenge to episcopal prerogatives. Others were known to weep while delivering sermons. The Presbyterian presence, no matter how unwelcome in James' view, still had to be tolerated. The Geneva, as Nicolson notes repeatedly, is what came to the Western Hemisphere on the Mayflower.

However pedantic this book might have been in another's hands, Nicolson's characterisations elevate it to gripping reading. Lancelot Andrewes, the weeping pastor, takes centre stage as the chief Translator - James insisted on the capitalisation. Andrewes, along with most of the team, was driven by the notion of a monarch closely aligned with the church. No more backsliding to Rome! The Puritans, although not yet granted that appellation, wanted even stronger guarantees - bishops were the banana peels leading to papistry. Get them out! The tenor, ably captured by Nicolson, is a strong church under a strong king. Yet among the Translators was one entertaining the most seditious thought of all. Henry Savile, whose family would later found the London haberdashery locus, had travelled and read probably more widely than any of his colleagues. Describing him as "the most glamorous of the Translators", Nicolson also reveals that Savile harboured the idea of a nation without kings! Savile's experience kept him from the confines of holy orders, but his language capability was undeniable.

As the work begins, Nicolson is forced to reveal that almost nothing of the Translators' notes or exchanges has survived. Although they had access to a large compendium of works by Church Fathers and other commentators, no list of what they consulted is available. There are some personal journal entries in various locations - mostly uncovered by American researchers beavering away in dusty vaults. These, however, are but a tantalising sample. No record of submissions, disputations, arguments or reasons for resolutions are provided. Instead, we are given Nicolson's paean to the formal language of Jacobean England. His disparagement of more recent versions isn't even camouflaged scorn. He longs to return to the subject of his study, but what would be sacrificed to accomplish this end?

Although this is supposed to be a study of Jacobean times, there are a few gaps. The communication between Britain and the Continent, only touched on with Savile, had more impact than Nicolson grants. Explorers were widening the view of the world, which led many to wonder what the deity had been up to in those remote places. Within the British Isles, Savile was but a symptom. The rapid change of faiths led to serious questioning of long-standing dogmas. If religion could change so often and so dramatically, how could the deity tolerate it.

Nicolson ignores the growing tendency to question and the resulting emergence of "the village atheist" in Britain. As the most literate people, which Nicolson notes was increasing in this period, it was only logical that questions would increase. Nor does he see fit to note that the very effort the Translators made laid the foundation for an even greater upheaval in the Puritan Revolution and Cromwell. [stephen a. haines - Ottawa, Canada]

Welcome to the astonishing world of Jacobean England...the time of Shakespeare, the time of wild religious division between the Calvinists and the Church of England. Learn just why our Pilgrim Fathers split for the New World...and learn how an amazing group of devoted scholars and frisky bishops put together the extraordinarily beautiful text of the King James Bible. No subsequent version, deemed by many of us to be 'bible lite', can approach the majesty of this work of love & learning from the 1600's. "God's Secretaries" works beautifully for anyone who ever wondered just where did we ever get the bible anyway?

Though doubtless attributable in no small part to having been immersed in the King James Bible during childhood, and the fact that I already knew something about the period of British history in question, I can say without hesitation that God's Secretries was one of the best reads I've had. The author gives us a fascinating portrayal of the historical context and the often extraordinary characters involved in James's great project. His insights into what went into making the KJV what it is at times hint at the awesome. The clarity of the writing is exemplary. Exquisite turns of phrase bestrew almost every page. The humour, often in the form of direct quotes from the period, is delicious. The pace exactly right. To anyone who genuinely desires to better understand why the KJV has been considered the greatest prose work in the English language, I unreservedly commend Nicolson's book. As an added note, the one little bone I have to pick with Nicolson's book is that the Appendices do not include the original Preface. Nicolson whets the appetite with extolling words about Miles Smith's creation, in one case reproducing a short extract, and it would have been nice to have had the Preface at hand. Neither of my KJVs, both over fifty years old, contain it (in contrast to the obsequious Epistle Dedicatory to James)