My main problem with this book is Coby sets up to prove that Cromwell followed Machiavelli's teaching in The Prince and to do so reads all his actions trough Machiavelli's prism. But this methodology is risky: one often ends up forcing facts into the model, regardless of other possible (if not more plausible) explanations.

I read this book back-to-back with Schofield's biography and I found Coby's account of Cromwell's life and his death not only biased but unsubtle. Nothing new is added from what we know trough popular culture, which is a pity, and I was surprised by the author taking things out of context: most notably, the use of the word "Catholic" in the scaffold speech, taken to mean the Roman Church and not the use it was given in Lutheran circles in the 16the century.

Lastly, and something always important to me, the scarce bibliography was frustrating and something I always dislike in non-fiction books. ( )

This book's subtitle is "Machiavellian Statecraft and the English Reformation," which pretty much sums up the author's argument. It's an adequate overview of Cromwell's life and accomplishments, and does a satisfactory job of presenting alternative interpretations where the facts and interpretations are contested. Be aware that the author's a political scientist; this book is much more about Cromwell's politics than a proper biography. If that's what you're looking for, this book will fit your purpose.

All the same, it's an odd production. The introduction says the intended audience is college students; one result is the discussion often assumes you're nineteen, have read little history, and know little of politics. This is occasionally annoying. Evidently those nineteen-year-olds are allergic to academic footnotes, as many of the author's assertions are unsourced and (more important) many of the academy's disagreements are briefly described without adequate reference for those who might wish to follow up. This is somewhat mitigated by the last chapter, which is a fine essay on Cromwellian historiography, and by an annotated bibliographic essay. Neither, though, helps if you're interested in following up a specific assertion.

Another strangeness: While there are no academic footnotes, the book's full of asterisks which refer the reader to two glossaries--one of words and (often technical ecclesiastical) phrases; the other of short biographical sketches. This undermines, to my eye, any argument that traditional academic footnotes are overly intrusive.

The explanation is quite likely that this book began as a series of lectures, which cannot have footnotes but which might be provided with such reference materials. Better, in my opinion, to have supplied the notes retroactively.



This review has also been published on a dabbler's journal. ( )