Customer Reviews

Richard and John: Kings at War

5 star:		(11)
4 star:		(7)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Author McLynn has produced a very creditable work on the family of Henry II (& I should have added Philip Augustus in my title) from a traditionalist standpoint. Yes, his prose is interlaced with opinions, but I found them to be consistent with the evidence. I particularly enjoyed McLynn's portrait of Saladin and the difficulties he faced confronting both the crusaders and enemies within the Muslim world. In a phrase, there was no inside track anywhere.

With respect to both Richard and John, it was refreshing to read a work from a modern academic author who does not condemn Richard for this love of battle or exalt John who faced the impossible task of keeping a patchwork of lands together that lacked a common language or heritage. In addition, the author completely refutes the notion that Richard was a homosexual (another favorite of politically correct authors). He sometimes ends up presenting a wearisome procession of political treaties, the breaking of those treaties and subsequent military conflict, but that was life among the perpetually squabbling petty kings and barons of Europe at the time.

McLynn does yeoman work in attempting to present the Angevin empire as it was without moralizing and criticizing with 20th century hindsight and professed morality. At the time the crusades were seen as noble and in keeping with God's command. Richard was simply doing his duty to God. Today, academics generally condemn the crusades following on Hume's 18th century historical work that set the tone. No doubt we will be judged in the twenty-fifth century as equally misguided and feckless. One should never, never, never judge historical figures by anything other than the conditions and attitudes of their times. McLynn does this admirably.

As a descendant of John (& Henry & Eleanor) I was hoping for some new or legitimate defense of his many faults, but alas, there was none. John has been much loved lately by revisionists (see Turner), but even with my possibly average knowledge of medieval sources, I knew such polemics possessed severe faults and biases. Maybe it is comforting to believe that all great leaders have feet of clay, but some are truly better than others.

Richard was clearly the foremost military leader produced in Europe from 600 to 1700 CE and should be recognized as such. That he treated England as only a part of his empire (and not excessively important) might offend British historians, but that is their problem, not Richard's. His killing of the 3,000 Acre prisoners is usually used to prove his blood lust, but in medieval eyes this hardly raised an eyebrow.

With John, on the other hand, it is difficult to find any redeeming virtues. Modern historians often make much of the difficulties he faced, but other leaders in history (Genghis Khan comes to mind) have faced far greater difficulties and overcome them. John's failures were his own, and the litany of them makes for difficult and boring reading. I can only imagine how difficult they were to write about over and over again.

A sideline in McLynn's treatise is the venality of the Roman Catholic Church and its meddling for hire in the affairs of kings and governments. It was often difficult to separate religion from politics, and bribing Church officals was the order of the day. The recounting of one tiring manipulation after another by the clergy and Pope makes for daunting reading. Yet again, the participants at those times saw nothing unusual or even unethical in such activities.

McLynn has produced a masterful and scholarly work, although like others, I sometimes found the writing style producing ennui. Nevertheless, it is well worth reading for a thorough understanding of the times and the major players affecting England. There were not a lot of new disclosures here, but through McLynn's encyclopedic presentation from medieval sources, the characters came to life in a setting that can be understood by the modern reader (if it can ever be understood given our a priori framework of knowledge). History is well served. What more can one ask?

While I'm a British history ethusiast, I'm not an expert; nor am I an historian. I'm a researcher, and I base my comments on my reading of about 3/4's of the book as well as my own research.

I slogged through most of the book, and I do mean "slog." Sentences go on for lines and paragraphs run half a page. The writing is pompous, archaic and repetitive.

Speaking of Henry II's son Henry, McLynn writes: "[T]he Young King adored to spend money, but hated its reality.... [H]e was rescued time and again by his father or William Marshal, which simply made him more resentful, since that meant, in his mind, that they were partronisng him or 'giving him laws'." (p.66) Good grief. Where's the editor?

While I could (and did) put up with the writing, I had a lot of trouble with the arrogance. It's one thing to take a traditionalist viewpoint and back it up with source citations. He does, and I have no problem with it. But he also intersperses his own opinion without stating it as such.

As reviewer Jonathan Sumption writes for THE SPECTATOR (14 October 2006), "[T]here are many things about human personality in the Middle Ages that are not knowable. McLynn writes as if he had met Richard and John. That is the problem."

Further, McLynn is often inaccurate with small details. For instance, about Eleanor of Acquitaine, he writes: She "had a dark complexion, black eyes, black hair and was curvaceous with a superb figure that never ran to fat even in old age." For the following sentence about her inheritence, he cites several biographers, including Alison Weir.

One wonders if he read Weir, who states: "No one, however, left a description of Eleanor or even recorded the colour of her hair and eyes." (Eleanor of Aquitaine: A Life, Ballantine Books, 2001, p. 18)

If he gets the small details wrong, how can we trust the bigger picture? As reviewer Murrough O'Brien, who gives the book a mostly positive review, writes for THE INDEPENDENT (22 October 2006), "We've settled down now into the idea that Richard, for all his single-minded militarism, was basically OK, and that John, for all his talents, basically wasn't." That's the thesis in a nutshell ... for 500 pages.

I admire "Richard and John: Kings at War." But one suspects that a rush to meet its release date hurried the editing, creating a faustian bargain for this book.

"Richard and John: Kings at War" is encyclopedic. I have read this period widely, but still found a new treasure-trove of facts. And back-stairs whispers. Her contemporary chroniclers gave Eleanor of Aquitaine a bad press. Now, Frank McLynn's diligent research shows the rest of this weird family faring no better. He lets us into secrets, confiding foibles of perhaps the most dysfunctional imperial family since First Century Rome.

Readers will recognize sibling rivalry between brothers of unequal aptitute. To this, add faction-fights between parents playing favorites to influence their sons, while also fighting France, the Church and each other. Fans of the Asian board game "Go" -- objective: seize and control territory -- will understand the Angevins intuitively! Richard is the brother (or classmate) we envied: he captains the teams, gets the girls and is deemed most likely to win. John grits his teeth, struggles and slips into poor moral and practical judgments.

Those who strive to read "Richard and John: Kings at War" from end to end may struggle, too. It's that editing challenge I mentioned.

I dissent from McLynn's description of Eleanor of Aquitaine; and from Alison Weir's opinion, which he quotes, that Eleanor's likeness is unknown. The British set-designer Claude Marks had a deep knowledge of medieval Poitou and Aquitaine. Moving to New York, Marks lectured at the Metropolitan Museum, whose medieval busts of Henry and Eleanor he considered plausible likenesses. In "Pilgrims, Heretics, and Lovers" Marks also cites a contemporary source for Eleanor's eye color. (I confess bias: I commissioned a portrait modeled from that bust of Eleanor. Then a forensic artist working from the same bust projected Eleanor's features into old age for me.)

That aside, in summary, readers familiar with the general story who skim over rough passages will find "Richard and John" informative. Amusing and entertaining, too.

Robert Fripp, author,
"Power of a Woman. Memoirs of a turbulent life: Eleanor of Aquitaine"

This was a well researched and well written book. It gives a concise telling of history from Henry II to John, ending with the Magna Carta. Although it does get boggled down with the numerous personalities and regions of the Middle Ages, it gives a readable view of that period of history. It also goes into the gossip of the period, which makes for a lighter read.

I did not find the book overly academic, in fact, I thought it was bit of a page turner since it covers several major personalities in a relatively short space. It also fits well with out current time, the war on terror.

The one shortcoming of the book is that it is very pro-Richard and very anti-John. Not knowing anything of John other than what I have read in wikipedia, it may have more of bias than needed. However, John did give rise to the Magna Carta, so the bias is probably justified.

Well done, long live the Lion Heart.

I must say that I am very disheartened by some of the other reviews here that chide author McLynn for using big words or for going into excessive detail in Richard and John: Kings at War. For me, McLynn's prose was the highlight of this experience, his colorful and extremely engaging writing made exploring the often confusing and complicated world of medieval European politics and culture compelling.

I'm the kind of reader who likes a challenge, who enjoys coming across words that I need to look up in a dictionary, and relishes the opportunity to immerse myself in a vast, unfamiliar world like that of Richard the Lionheart and the Angevin dynasty. When I come across a word like "uxorious" or "gallimaufry," I don't resent the author for obfuscating his thoughts in the arcane or obscure, I'm thankful to be introduced to new methods of expression.

Richard and John is a challenging read, without a doubt, but McLynn's approach is not condescending to the reader. Quite the contrary, by not dumbing down his text he reveals a level of respect to the reader, and puts his faith in our ability as learned adults to not merely allow the book to wash over us passively, but to actively engage the text, and include ourselves in the rich dialogue he has set-up.

I enthusiastically recommend Richard and John as an excellent and exciting narrative which sheds light on the distant yet in many ways familiar world of medieval Europe and as an example of well-tuned writing that should invigorate readers, not discourage them.

I enjoyed McLynn's book, which is unashamed in its traditional bias. He is incredibly scrupulous about citing his sources, with a vast array needing practically the last 50 pages of the book to list. I only wish that he had drawn upon a somewhat wider vocabulary to match. After reading this and his 1066 book back to back, I would not be entirely inconsolable if I never came across the words 'uxorious' or 'contumacious' again which he is particularly fond of. Or a state of affairs described as a 'cockpit' of intrigue or tension.

Still. I enjoyed Richard & John a great deal. Though it is clear, throughout the book, that whom he truly relishes writing about is Richard. John is pretty much an afterthought, beyond the fortunate circumstances of living a bit longer after Richard's death, which provides McLynn with the opportunity to take sadistic pleasure in detailing his failures in comparison with Richard's heroic nobility. If the Lionheart had lived a decade longer, this book might as well have been called 'Richard'. Which wouldn't have been bad. Since the book truly soars when Richard takes center stage. There is also fine treatment given to an array of memorable if little known characters, such as William Marshall, who had a rather hilarious affinity for tournaments.

Richard and John: Kings at War.
by Frank McLynn.

In writing the Annals, Tacitus took great care to include the tales of senators and generals along with his reports on the Caesars of Rome. Despite these attempts to glorify events untouched by the Emperor's hand, Tacitus could not deny that the power attained by the Caesars marked the end of history as he had known it. History, it seems, had been reduced to biography, the deeds of soldiers and statesmen replaced by the inane ticks and tastes of a particular emperor. [1]

Tacitus's misgivings seem premature when viewed in the grand scope of history. The world of Tacitus was a world of concentrated power, but it was power confined within the walls of the Roman system. Even if they were all assumed by one man, the words "consul", "censura", and "imperator" still designated specific functions and responsibilities. The emperor may have held power unparalleled within this system, but he still worked within a system.

By the High Middle Ages such statements could no longer be made about the influential rulers of Europe. The feudal structure that arose out of Rome's collapse was one of individuals. Gone was the quasi-state of the Roman Empire; the defining ties between one medieval man and the next were those of fealty, not citizenship. Likings, loyalties, and emotions of individuals thus supplanted institutions as the main vehicle for politics - the idea of an institution separate from the men occupying it was unknown, and would remain so until the 1600s. Liberals and realists of today may squabble about the importance of the individual in the international system, but in 1189 individuals were the system. Tacitus' nightmare came true: history had become biography.

This facet of the feudal system makes Frank McLynn's title a fascinating study. McLynn's goal was to write a comprehensive comparative biography of the Angevin brothers Richard and John. While not his intention, McLynn's double biography serves as a compelling piece of comparative politics. Indeed, McLynn has chosen the perfect pair for comparison; Richard and John had access to very similar - if not quite identical - resources when they came to power, and both faced the same challenges upon attaining the crown. The only variable that changed between the brothers' rule were the brothers themselves. The value of Kings at War is easy to see: by studying the grand success that was Richard and the torrid failure that was John we are offered a unique chance to understand what separated the great kingdoms of the feudal age from their second-class counterparts.

However, an accounting of McLynn's bias needs to be made before any effort of analysis can be made. To his credit, McLynn is quite open about his prejudice. In the introduction to Kings at War he writes that "my own sleuthing in ancient documents turned up what is in effect a reinforcement of the stereotype" (pg xi). Being led by ancient documents is of course fair game, but I fear that McLynn carries his prejudices farther than the documents may allow. Examples of the double standard he holds John and Richard to are easy to find. When Richard bypasses his father and pays homage to Philip Augustus for his holdings, McLynn blames Henry, stating that the Old King "had been caught in the coils of his own double dealing" (pg 107). But when John pays homage to Philip in 1193, McLynn does not hesitate to call his actions "treasonous" (pg 230).

While lapses like this are found throughout Kings at War, they are largely restricted to moments where McLynn feels it necessary to attach subjective adjectives to the actions of the two Angevin monarchs. The history itself, however, is solid. MClynn has command of Angevin historiography, and every fact he writes has a sound citation. At times McLynn surpasses the mere recitation of facts and describes the why and how of events depicted. A perfect example is McLynn's explanation for the relatively low death tolls and short duration of medieval sieges:

"Sieges were seldom protracted, for in a long drawn-out affairs, where a castellan stubbornly refused to surrender after a suitable period of time had elapsed in which to save face, there was danger of wholesale sack and massacre.... [but] in the twelfth-century kaleidoscope of shifting alliances, not to mention fratricidal warfare, where today's enemy was tomorrow's ally, it made no sense to shed blood needlessly" (pg 57).

This excerpt is more than a short depiction of feudal warfare - contained within is an explanation of the forces driving the twelfth century political system. McLynn provides many such moments of insight, and for this I am thankful, as they give the reader a chance to understand what character traits were compatible with this system - or in other words, what aspects of the two kings' personality would translate into success or failure.

McLynn, (though never openly saying so) seems have narrowed down the success of Richard and the failure of John to one distinct quality: a reputation of consistency and honest dealing. One of the first actions of Richard's reign, the pardoning of William Marshall, the champion knight who had but a month previous been fighting on the battlefield against Richard, illustrates this well. The act demonstrated Richard's "generosity, reliability and decisiveness" (pg 119), the first in many efforts to "emphasize justice instead of despotism" (Pg. 118). Contrast this with McLynn's laundry list of John's bad character traits: "cruel, miserly, extortionate, duplicitous, treacherous, mendacious, suspicious, secretive, paranoid, and lecherous" (pg 287). Richard's decisions and personality inspired trust and confidence in the crown; John's encouraged resentment and suspicion towards it.

In the cut-throat, wheeling-dealing world of twelfth century Europe, a bad reputation among the noble class would lead to disaster. For John, it did lead to disaster - twice. The lords of Brittany lost all trust in the competence of their king, and broke away forever from the Angevin domains. To say that the lords of England distrusted John is an understatement - the Magna Carta can be as a direct result of bitterness the barons living in Britain felt for their king.

Richard's success is seen clearly through the lens of John's failures. Richard was able to dispatch with rebellious nobles quickly and efficiently; nowhere was Richard reviled or distrusted enough to prompt mass rebellion. The idea of Richard being forced to sign the Magna Carta is laughable; the barons of England did not find an extortionate tyrant in the Lionheart. The Angevin lords remained loyal to Richard even when he was thousands of miles away on a crusade. One cannot imagine them doing the same for John.

The greatest strength of Kings at War is the book's ability to show all of this without trying to do so. It remains an entertaining (if encyclopedic in scope) read. But as McLynn lays the facts out one by one, the reader cannot help but reach the same conclusion as him. Richard knew how to play the game. Whether by nature or calculation, Richard was able to do what his brother could not: project himself as the ideal just, generous, and reliable ruler. This reputation was the source of Richard's power, and through it, as McLynn is fond of noting, Richard's became the most powerful kingdom of Europe.

[1] "Tacitus." Oxford Classical Dictionary. 3rd Edition. Ed. Simon Hornblower and Antony Spaworth. (Oxford: Oxford University Press. ) 2003.

Forget about the image of noble king Richard and villainous king John as you know them from the many Hollywood movies (Kevin Costner's "Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves" or Disney's "Robin Hood" to name just a few) that showcase "good" king Richard and "bad" king John.
This "Richard & John: Kings At War" shows us what Richard and John were really like, as far as is possible because they lived some eighth centuries ago and we look at them with twenty-first Century eyes and base our perceptions on the records of that distant age that have survived until now.
Anyway, "Richard & John" is an excellent but very dense history of the famous kings Richard "the Lionheart" and John "Lackland", both sons of Henry II, one of the Plantagenet kings who ruled during the tumultuous 12th Century: the time of the Third Crusade, Saladin, the era of Robin Hood...
In popular perception, Richard I is seen as one of the greatest kings of England, most of al because of being one of the central Christian commanders during the Third Crusade and fighting against his equally famous Muslim opponent Saladin.
In reality, Richard spent very little time in England, spoke little English and spend most of his time across the Channel in Aquitaine and Normandy, fighting and laying siege from a very young age. He was to become famous because of his reputation as a great military leader and warrior. At only 16, Richard was commanding his own army, putting down rebellions against his father.
In popular perception, John "Lackland" is seen as one of most disastrous kings in English history, the corrupt and wicked king who tried to usurp his brother's throne when he was away on Crusade and taxed the British people until they rebelled (giving rise to the Robin Hood legend).
In reality, John "Lackland", who would later succeeded to the throne when King Richard I died, acquired the nickname "Lackland" for his lack of an inheritance as the youngest son. True, he had already acquired a reputation for treachery, having conspired sometimes with and sometimes against his elder brothers, Henry, Richard and Geoffrey. When after the death of Richard in 1199 John became ruler, he was for the most part seen as an efficient ruler, but he lost Normandy to Philip of France in the first years of his reign and he lost the support of the English barons by taxing them in ways that were outside those normally allowed to kings until the barons rebelled, forcing him to sign his most enduring legacy: Magna Carta in 1215.
Like I said previously, it's a very dense volume: 482 pages (578 including notes, bibliography and index), packed with historical detail that could easily have been expanded into a trilogy (for example: Richard's youth, the Crusading period, the period afterwards). Paragraphs that can run a page long, often long sentences: you really get your money's worth, although I would have preferred some editing to put less strain on the eyes. But besides that, it's a magnificent history.
So why the four stars?
Well, like other reviewers have complained about: the book is marred by Frank McLynn's tendency (and I'll use his own style to show what I mean) to obfuscate the reader by inundating him with linear sequences of words filled with ambiguous meanings to showcase his erudition.
If you are scratching your head and already grabbing for a dictionary: that's something you'll often do when you start reading "Richard & John: Kings at War". Here's the same sentence in normal English: to confuse the reader by overwhelming him with sentences filled with uncertain meanings to showcase his scholarly knowledge.
Not convinced, or thinking: ah, is it really that bad? I'll provide some examples: 'was made otiose' (page 88, otiose=lazy), 'was a priapic satyr' (page 93, priapic=always horny), 'the contumely attracted' (page 124, contumely=insolence), 'the olio of French, English & Flemish' (page 145, olio=mixture, hodgepodge), 'exiguous force' (page 168, exiguous=scanty) and 'adduced as circumstantial evidence' (page 175, adduced=cited as example). Why substitute these words for their perfectly normal, every-day use versions?
So, for needlessly complicating the reading-pleasure of an otherwise excellent history of these fascinating historical figures, I subtract one star.

This is a good example of how history should be presented. While it still has its flaws, the overall effect is amazing. As other reviewers have already indicated the author holds your interest with a storyteller's talent. I quickly finished this book despite the 400+ pages. History is better than fiction when you are telling the story of Henry and Eleanor and their children (the devil's brood). This should be the next HBO series (like Band of Brothers and Pacific). It would definitely make another generation fall in love with medieval history.

McLynn spends much of the beginning of the book laying the framework for the world that Richard and John were brought up in. He imparts the story of the creation of the Angevin Empire by Richard and John's father Henry II Plantagenet. Much time is devoted to an examination of Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine and how their actions and character molded their young sons into the adults they would grow up to be. You also have great insight when you look at Richard and John's siblings and see how they also developed in the same atmosphere. Kings at War truly is the tale of Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine and all their sons. We get to see all of the family strife between Henry II and his sons and wife.

But, special attention is given to Richard and John as they are the focus of the history. McLynn provides frequent characterizations by Richard and John's contemporaries and stories about their good and bad deeds. McLynn provides background on some these major sources and what biases they may have held. McLynn does a good job of presenting both sides of the story. McLynn certainly has an opinion on what he believes the truth to be and he openly presents that, but he does not hide the opposing view. I think this gives the reader a great bit of leeway to take away from the story what parts they do and do not believe.

After Henry II's death the history continues describing the Angevin Empire under Richard's rule and his most memorable decision to take the cross and lead the third Crusade. McLynn describes the whole journey to the Holy Land including his battles to secure the route by taking Sicily and Cypress. The campaign in Syria and his confrontation with Saladin are presented in good detail. The story of his return to England after his capture by Germany and all the political maneuvering was very interesting.

McLynn describes the rest of Richard's reign and his many battles with Phillip Augustus with Richard poised to defeat the French with his powerful arrangement of allies. Then fate takes its hand and John reign (of terror) leads to the loss of Normandy and Brittany. McLynn then details John's many attempts to regain Normandy and his merciless taxation and forestry program. This leads to the great civil war with the English barons and drafting of the Magna Carta. The provisions of the Magna Carta and why they were drafted is well explained. The civil war through John's death and resulting peace after the French are defeated brings us to the end of the history. McLynn provides some conclusions on both Richard and John at the end.

I really enjoyed the book. It has inspired me to delve more into English, French, and Norman history. I plan to read both sides of the story armed with the great framework developed by McLynn. I would also recommend 1215: The Year of Magna Carta if you have great interest in this time period in English history and would like to find out more what it was like to live in 12th and 13th century England. It retreads on a lot of the same territory as this book, but it provides some good insights too. I would also recommend The Normans: Warrior Knights and Their Castles (General Military) as you learn about and see the castles and sieges that are described in McLynn history.

Here is another fantastic history by McLynn. As usual, he makes figures that might be easily seem one-dimensional become lively and human. When I picked up this book its heft alone was daunting, but it never dragged and always kept me interested. It's dense, no doubt, but always entertains. Although I'm not usually a fan of military history, McLynn's treatment of battles is especially good. He manages to describe the action clearly and with enough explanation for someone not necessarily intimate with medieval warfare, while somehow also making them suspenseful. His other forte is how he handles the politics in Europe in the 12th and 13th centuries. Just enough detail and analysis is provided to make the story interesting but also worthwhile to read.

There are two reasons I only gave "Richard and John" four stars instead of the full five (McLynn's "1066: The Year of Three Battles" easily gets a perfect score in my book). The first is that McLynn falls into the trap of overusing modern cliches to explain otherwise difficult-to-grasp medieval political concepts. Some of this type of thing is welcome in my opinion, as it really can help make a point without spending too much text, but the amount of times McLynn "visits that well" (see, I can do it too) was distracting. The second reason this book fell a little short is that McLynn spends far too much time and energy defending the classic evaluation of Richard as the "good" king and John as the "bad" king. I take issue with any historian feeling that they have to evaluate the merit of figures from the distant past. I get that it can make for more interesting reading, but it's easy enough to draw your own conclusions when the facts are stated as thoroughly as McLynn does here. It's impossible not to judge one king against another, especially when they contrast as starkly as Richard and John, and it might be asking too much for a historian not to throw in his own judgment now and then, but McLynn beats you over the head with it at times.

I have to end on a positive note, because overall this was a great read and I recommend it: if McLynn could just write a history of England from the Roman invasion to modern times I would be a happy camper. All histories should be this engaging and complete.