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.

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.

Its nice to learn that "King John was not a good man", and that Richard actualy earned his reputation. Well written, exciting as a good detective story, history the way it used to be written and the way it should be written. Besides its fun to see the revisionists revised. A good read as well as good history.

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.

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"

I admire "Richard and John: Kings at War." But one suspects that a rush to meet its November 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. 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 gives us 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 who played favorites to influence their sons, while also fighting France, the Church and each other. 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 read "Richard and John: Kings at War" from end to end may struggle, too. It's that editing challenge I mentioned.

I differ 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 Eleanor and Henry he considered plausible likenesses. In "Pilgrims, heretics, and lovers" Marks also cites Eleanor's eye color from a contemporary source. (I confess bias: I commissioned a portrait modeled from that bust of Eleanor. Then a forensic artist worked from the same bust to project 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"

I admire much about "Richard and John: Kings at War." But one suspects that a rush to meet the stated November publication date truncated the editing process, 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 more than facts: we get back-stairs whispers. Chroniclers gave Eleanor of Aquitaine a bad press. The rest of this weird family fares no better.

In Richard and John, readers will recognize sibling rivalry between brothers of unequal aptitute. To this, add parents who were temperamentally ill-equipped, absent, playing favorites or fighting France, the Church and each other. Frank McLynn feeds us antics and foibles of perhaps the most dysfunctional imperial family since First Century Rome. Richard is the brother (or classmate) we envied: he leads the teams, gets the girls and is voted most likely to succeed. John grits his teeth and struggles.

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

I differ from McLynn regarding his 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 Eleanor and Henry he believed to be plausible likenesses. In "Pilgrims, heretics, and lovers" Marks cites Eleanor's eye color from a contemporary source. (I'm biased: I commissioned a portrait modeled from that bust. Working from the same bust a forensic artist projected Eleanor's features into old age.)

Summing up, readers familiar with the general story can skim through tough passages to find "Richard and John" informative. Amusing and entertaining, too.

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

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.

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.

Do you feel like your family is abnormal or odd? Are you embarassed at functions where your family is put on public display? Read this book about the Plantagenets -- Henry II and his wife and sons -- and you will be comforted. Even the most dysfunctional family will appear normal next to this collection of self-centered, egotistical, scheming liars.
Much of what I knew about the Plantagenets I learned from James Goldman's excellent play, The Lion in Winter. In reading Frank McLynn's authoritative work, I was impressed at how close to reality Goldman's characters are. Henry is a liar and bounces back and forth from favoring one son as heir to favoring another. Richard is a great warrior, a natural leader, and a bit of a momma's boy. Geoffrey is an evil schemer -- always looking for ways to play his brothers against each other and thereby increase his slim chance at the throne. John is the spoiled brat and baby of the group that historians have taken to calling the Devil's Brood. Eleanor of Acquitane is the mother, and is also a schemer, working constantly for Richard and against Henry. Richard and Geoffrey fight Henry and John, John and Richard fight Henry, John fights Richard. Indeed, another title for the book might well be, Richard and John: Kings at War With Each Other and the Rest of Their Family.
The Lion in Winter makes one critical mistake, however. It casts Richard and King Phillip Augustus of France as lovers. McLynn tells us that this is a common mistake made by "incautious historians today."
What's most impressive about Richard & John is the vast detail McLynn provides. I am amazed that so much is known about these people who lived some 900 years ago. Frank McLynn has done a wonderful job of gathering this information. His book gets into the most minute details.
And therein lies the problem. McLynn gives too much detail, and sometimes the narrative is lost. His is certainly a scholarly book. I found it necessary to keep a dictionary nearby while I was reading it. I found the prose dense, so much so that in places it was like wading through waist-deep mud -- a slow, tedious struggle. I really wanted to like this book, as I found the characters compelling. Perhaps my own intellect is lacking, but I don't want the books I read to be work. I want them to inform, entertain, and delight.