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Samuel Pepys: The Unequalled Self

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I buy a lot of books from Amazon[.com] and, because I am so busy reading them, I do not often review them. This biography of Samuel Pepys was just terrific, so I had to say something about it.

I am a history buff and suppose anyone buying this book would have to be. Samuel Pepys, as it turns out, was a lot more than just a diarist. He was, in effect, what we would call Secretary of the Navy during the Restoration.

Raised as a Puritan, he successfully made the switch to a Stuart supporter when The Restoration became inevitable after Oliver Cromwell died and his son just did not measure up to the job.

We are taken into the world of an ambitious man clawing his way up to the top of the greasy pole. He knows how it is done--and how to make money from bribes (and convince yourself that you are not doing anything immoral at the same time). The way things were done in 17th century was a bit different than it is in the modern US--and perhaps a bit of the same.

The most riveting bit about Pepys life was an operation he underwent in 1658 for the removal of a bladder stone. It goes without saying that there was no anesthesia in those days. First they tied you down and then they cut and probed; there is an illustration of someone trussed up like a turkey with a probe inserted in--well, you have to see it.

Great pain and death was a daily companion for those living before anesthesia--and I am not even going to talk about tooth pain. Death, moreover, was all around. Children died from all sorts of diseases that are easily curable now. Any sort of fever could end in death--and, of course, there was bubonic plague, which killed off about 1/6 of London's population in a single year.

I found this book absolutely riveting. It is 378 pages of text (and oodles of pages of notes for the compulsive people like me who read them). I read it in 3 days.

If you are interested in English history you will love this book. Maybe one of these days I will even get around to reading Pepys' diaries.

This one is and I've read them all. Tomalin chooses diary excerpts brilliantly, tying together a picture of the man in his own words that captures the spirit of the diary and other materials (letters and so on) perfectly. Then she wraps it all into the context of the fascinating times in which Pepys lived and gives us rich introductions to those who shared his life and world. This book is a MUST READ for anyone who likes Pepys. Anyone who doesn't know Pepys will run right out and buy the 11-volume version of the diary after reading this book.

I bought this book as a follow-up after listened to the audio recording of Pepys Diary narrated (performed!) by Kenneth Branagh to get a more in depth knowledge of the historical times, characters and political forces of the day. I am no avid historian but great history can approach great literature in stature (my bias). This very well researched and thoroughly documented account of the life of Samuel Pepys spans the years prior to, during and subsequent to the diary years. Although the most compelling period is the diary years, the times prior to that disclose his upbringing and particularly his health and it's lasting imprint on this amazing character - no doubt contributing to his life long ambitious drive and living for the moment. You will never consider a kidney stone in the same light after reading this account!

As preivious reviewers here have noted, the diary was written largely in code. That and heavy editing by nervous publishers over the years have kept the complete story from full disclosure for nearly 300 hundred years. Initially the bawdy stories kept my rapt attention, but this research reveals it is much more than that - a very multi-layered and mullti-faceted sotry that for the history novice like me, puts a humanistic face on the 17th century.

Significant points that Tomalin reveals include that this secret diary is one of the best historical accounts that covers London's Restoration period as the King had tight control over "the press". The diary documents firsthand accounts of the plague, the great fire, the return of the king to the thrown, the many wars at sea with the Dutch, the political struggling between the Royals and the Common Wealth, the intense distrust between protestants and catholics and religious persecution. In addition there are firsthand reviews of various plays (including Shakespeare, Chaucer), comments on copious consumption (and burial) of wine and Parmesan cheese, personal hygiene standards as well as graphic descriptions of the system of justice during this time.

This is a time capsule worth reading and listening a few times.

A good biographer must tread a fine line. She must enable us to get beneath the skin of her subject. We have to be made to feel that we really understand what makes the subject tick. On the other hand (if you don't mind me mixing my metaphors!) she must maintain a critical perspective. The biography should not degenerate into "hero worship". In "Samuel Pepys: The Unequalled Self" the biographer, Claire Tomalin, has managed to achieve this balance. Admittedly, as far as getting beneath her subject's skin, Ms. Tomalin has been helped by one of the most famous diaries of all time- the one kept by Pepys from his late 20's until his late 30's. But I have seen other biographies of Pepys that relied too much on the diary- where the diary became a crutch that enabled the biographer merely to amuse us with its sometimes slapstick sexual content, rather than to thoughtfully present us with a well-rounded, flesh-and-blood human being. So, besides reporting on Pepys's crude and predatory amorous adventures, much of the book is devoted to Pepys's hard work over many years as a naval administrator. He devoted himself to modernizing the Navy by both the introduction of proper record keeping and by using the resultant statistical data to develop a more efficient procurement process. He also never stopped trying to get adequate funding so that more ships could be built. Pepys, who as a teenager witnessed the execution of Charles I and who was an admirer of Cromwell, was a great believer in meritocracy. However, Ms. Tomalin also shows us a Pepys who didn't fail to enrich himself by taking advantage of his position- he accepted numerous "gifts" from people who wanted government jobs or contracts. (The "gifts" weren't always in the form of money. One particularly ambitious ships' carpenter "loaned out" his wife to Pepys!) Pepys also used his position to help out friends and family members. Of course, the author points out that this was common practice at the time. But, we have to smirk a bit when Pepys puffs himself up and states he would never take a bribe! (He convinced himself that he wasn't being "bought" since he claimed that the decision making process was never influenced by the money or payment-in-kind that he received. He said he always did what was best for the country, and that the "gifts" were mere gestures of appreciation.) Ms. Tomalin is never heavy-handed in her presentation. She never fails to put Pepys's behavior in its proper context- we are always reminded of how people behaved in both their public and private lives back in the 17th century. Where some previous biographers have tended to zero in on either Pepys the diarist or Pepys the naval administrator, Ms. Tomalin gives us the whole man. We learn that Pepys was an intensely social person- he loved going out to the coffee-houses, to the theater and to concerts, etc. Although not a true scientist, he was a very curious man who wanted to know what made the world tick. He belonged to the Royal Society for many years and was delighted to attend the meetings and to learn about new theories and to hear of the latest experiments. He knew Newton, Boyle, Hooke and Wren. Ms. Tomalin also tells us of Pepys's lifelong passion for music. He grew up in a musical household and throughout his life he loved both to play music and to listen to music performed by others. He enjoyed good food and was an avid reader. He built up an impressive library, which he left to Cambridge University. The beauty of this biography is in the nuances- in showing us all the facets of this remarkable man.

In high school, when excerpts of the Pepys diary were assigned to my senior English class, I admit that I culled them only for their notoriously spicy parts. For the substance, I relied on Cliff's Notes. Later, in college, I tackled the diary in earnest, wishing that I had been more serious with it in high school.

Samuel Pepys would have been a member of history without his famous diary, and Tomalin's book shows us why. He was one of history's first self-made men (the sort of man whom Franklin, over 100 years later, would have approved), rising from the son of a tailor to the highest ranks of post-Restoration England. In doing so, he deftly navigates the treacherous political landscape, managing to sufficiently gloss over his republican past and ingratiate himself to Charles II. Through his careful administration of the navy, Pepys became the hero to later naval administrators. He was also a member of the Royal Society and, later, of parliament.

Of course, Pepys was also a scoundrel, a cheat, and shameless groper of any woman unlucky enough to be caught alone with him. Many of his exploits were captured in the diary, in which his self-fascination is rendered as disinterested, clear prose. Pepys writes about himself as a hired psychologist might write about a patient. He seems to live for more and better material for his diary; or, as Tomalin puts it, "Pepys the man gave Pepys the writer all the material he needed."

Both Pepys the man and Pepys the writer are in good hands with Tomalin. She handles her subject with just the right amount of feminist disdain. She chides him for his "sexual assaults" and his overall frailties. But can there be total detachment on the part of the biographer from her subject? If anything, especially toward the end of the book, Tomalin has fallen for the very pathos she herself has created for Pepys.

This is a worthy biography. Anyone remotely interested in Pepys (or, for that matter, a lively and thoroughly researched history of post-Restoration England) should seek out this book.

In "Samuel Pepys: An Unequaled Self," Claire Tomalin succeeds in giving the reader a very thorough, meticulously documented, and delightfully unbiased view of the life of the world's most famous diarist. Though I have not read the diaries myself, I didn't find it detrimental to my enjoyment of the book. In fact, I think this biography could make an excellent precursor to reading the diary, as Tomalin sheds a tremendous light on the life and times of the second half of the seventeenth century, and helps place the diary within a much wider historical context, (especially for those like myself who have not studied much about the Restoration previously.)

Unlike others who have reviewed this book, I found the sections about Pepys life after the diary equally fascinating. Tomalin, who empathizes with her subject frequently, but never falls into the trap of blind worship, does a wonderful job of placing the details about post-diary Pepys that can be gleaned from official documents and correspondence, and imbuing it with the kind of life and insight that can be discovered through the diary sections.

Not to mention, the section about the kidney stone operation will undoubtedly make even the most stoic of men cross their legs and cringe. Well worth a read!

Pepys is lucky to have Claire Tomalin as his biographer. She is objective but sympathetic, thoughtful, analytic, and writes with an easy, fluid style. At times she lets Pepys speak for himself, through excerpts from his diary and letters, while at other times she recounts events in a seamless narrative fashion that, from reading the diary alone, would be more opaque and even somewhat choppy. In other words, she fills in the gaps, explaining who's who and providing background information about selected people and events that Pepys naturally felt no need to describe.

Pepys led a colorful life, which Tomalin does her best to illuminate. The core of her book is, of course, the years 1660-1669, during which he wrote his famously candid diary. Given that he also left behind volumes of letters in the more than 30 years more that he lived, it's a bit surprising that she doesn't present more information from those letters. Without the rich detail of the diary, the second half of his life is presented in a more perfunctory manner, including his three arrests and one brief imprisonment in the Tower. Her quotes from the diary are more sparse than they might have been, too. I assume she was willing to let the diary speak for itself -- and the interested reader who has not read the diary would be well advised to do so, because its rewards are only hinted at in this biography.

Tomalin made another assumption in writing her book, namely, that the reader would have at least a passing familiarity with English history, particularly the Restoration era. Many events are not fully explained, such as the reasons for the war with the Dutch, or indeed how warfare was declared, conducted, and concluded in the 17th century, which might have been helpful. And she is unable to elucidate exactly what Pepys did at the office all day and often into the night, although his contributions to improving the Navy are adequately sketched. It's curious that, once she has covered the Great Fire of 1666, she doesn't make a single reference to the rebuilding of London (aside from one very slight allusion), although reconstruction surely was a significant part of the background of everyday life for the ten years it took the city to restore itself. The diary contains a number of references. (For a full account of the disaster and recovery, see Adrian Tinniswood's By Permission of Heaven: The True Story of the Great Fire of London.)

Tomalin sticks closely to the man himself, his career and personal life. As every biographer has a right to do, she favors those aspects that most interest her: the arc of his rise from near-poverty to wealth and influence; the ups and downs of his marriage to a wife he loves but never bothers to name in the diary; his personal honesty and disclosure of his own flaws, particularly his willingness to take bribes and his wandering eye; his observations of the licentious court of Charles II; the continuing influence of a Puritan upbringing and education on his worldly career; his friendships and enmities; the things that brought him pleasure, such as books and music and chasing women, and the things that made him anxious, such as the possible exposure of his shadier dealings and the problems with his eyesight that eventually forced him to abandon the diary; and his unflagging zest for life and experience. For those who choose to read Richard Le Gallienne's admirable but bowdlerized abridgment of the diary, which is one-eighth the length of the original, Tomalin's biography fills in some gaps and also provides information about persons named in Le Gallienne's edition, which, frustratingly, contains no notes at all.

Even if you haven't read the diary, Tomalin's biography of Samuel Pepys stands alone as an intimate portrait of an intelligent, curious, flawed human being and the tumultuous times he lived in.

Claire Tomalin's Samuel Pepys: The Unequalled Self is quite simply one of the best reads in history, biography or any other genre in a long time. It deservedly carried off the Whitbread Book of the Year in 2002. Pepys lived through the tumultuous changes of the 17th century from Charles I to the Commonwealth and back to Charles II and James II and finally through the Glorious Revolution that brought the Dutch William III to the English crown. That century contained plagues, the great London fire, revolution, counterrevolution, and the emergence of science. Pepys experienced it all and for some 9 years wrote a comprehensive, perceptive, and extremely candid diary.

Tomalin's story rather naturally divides into three parts: pre-diary years, the diary years from 1660-1669, and the post-diary years when Pepys reached his greatest heights and suffered his greatest losses, personal and professional. In the first and last parts Tomalin gives us an excellent if fairly standard biography, but one informed by the incredible detail and honesty of the diary years.


When the reader reaches the end of the diary years one feels a sense of deprivation, a sense almost of being cheated. Pepys has drawn the curtain closed and we are no longer privy to the intimate details of Pepys daily activities at court, in the street, in the bedroom. Tomalin's own sense of loss is palpable.


Pepys began life as the son of London tailor and managed to reach the highest levels of English government as an advisor to kings by dint of hard work and obsequious obeisance to a number of benefactors, beginning with Edward Montague. An assiduous rump smoocher was he. Along the way he switched from being a supporter of Cromwell and Parliament to backing Charles II and James II. As a high-level naval official he instituted many practices that made the Royal Navy the greatest in the world. Unfortunately for Pepys, Charles II was a wastrel and James II an open Catholic whose religion cost him his crown. His connection to them cost him some time in the Tower of London.


There are many diaries, but few that are as perceptive and honest as Pepys' or as fruitful at sweeping in the details of daily life in mid-1600s England. According to Tomalin, Pepys diary gives more detail about the life of young working class girls and women, the maids, cooks, and serving girls, as almost any other source. Pepys also had a strong appetite for women and he did not hesitate to use his position to get what he desired, which he also details in his diary.


Pepys' diary and his own achievements show him as a remarkably energetic man with a strongly curious mind. Although not a scientist himself Pepys had a curious mind and also belonged to the Royal Society serving a term as its president. Pepys displays a willingness to work and to fawn as necessary in order to advance. The diary also shows him as a frequent sexual harasser (although his behavior may have been within the norms of the day at least as far as the men were concerned). And while he excelled at his work, he also was not above taking a bit of an "inducement" on the side. We would call these payments bribes, but Pepys seems to have viewed them more like service charges and he seems not to have acted contrary to the navy's best interests. These bribes were usually in pound notes (often sizeable), but he also had a long-running arrangement with a ship's captain for free access to the sexual favors of the captain's wife (Her name: Mrs. Bagwell!).


What is truly remarkable is that we know all these things and know them to be true for a certainty only because Pepys wrote them in his diary, a diary that it is generally believed Pepys fully intended to be publicly read some day (he included the six volumes in his library that he bequeathed it to Magdalene College, Cambridge).


Highest recommendation.

The only living English biographers I can think of who are in any way comparable to Claire Tomalin are Richard Holmes and Peter Ackroyd, and of the three I am not sure if Tomalin isn't the best. Certainly she is the most compulsively readable: she has a fine ability to clarify confusing historical matters and offer a clear and compelling narrative line.

This book on Samuel Pepys, her latest work, shows Tomalin at her very best. Pepys lived through (and was an important witness to) some of the most complex and drmaatic changes in British history--the Civil War, the Restoration, the Great Plague of London, the Great Fire, and the Glorious Revolution--and Tomalin presents them all so clearly and simply it's a bit of a wonder. Her work is animated by her great admiration and fondness her subjects, Samuel and Elizabeth Pepys. She never shirks in showing their many faults (Pepys's sexual compulsiveness with other women, both Pepys's physical violence towards each other and their servants) but she is also very attuned to what remarkable people they were, and how they jointly contributed (Pepys directly, Elizabeth indirectly) to one of the most remarable documents of all time: Pepys's great diary, the first great record of the Enlightenment self. I could not put this book down!

As a lover of well written biography and history, it's wonderful to indulge in a such a well-informed, witty and charming picture of one man's life in the London of Cromwell and the Restoration.

I think Pepys would have loved the internet, chat rooms, gossip columns in the Sunday papers and probably reality TV. Tomalin has introduced me to a man who had inexhaustible curiosity about the world around him but, most significantly of all, curiosity about himself. Everything and anything was worth noting down for Pepys and the minutiae of his daily life is a treasure.

I've never read the diary itself but after reading this, I don't see the need. The author has captured exquisitely Pepys's life and times including plague, fire, war, peace, domesticity, ill health and extended family - all coloured by Pepys's endearing self-examination (and self-importance!!). Fortunately, Pepys loved himself and I found myself liking him as he liked himself. As such, we get a wonderful picture of a man's life and times without politically correct, turgid self-examination and self-criticism; this man loved life! Hooray for him!

For a micro and macro view of the London of Cromwell, the Restoration, the coming of age of the British Navy, the evolution of literature, art, science, architecture and the embryo of the British empire, you can't beat this book.

Highly recommended - Tomalin gives a fresh, clear view of a man who seems so immediate you can well imagine him living next door!