“Frederick the Great” by Nancy Mitford

 

304 pages, Hamilton, ISBN-13: 978-0241019221

I don’t own Frederick the Great; I checked it out of my high school library way the hell back in the Righteous 80s when I went on my Great Fred tangent and read everything I could about this newly-discovered (for me) monarch. As I’m sure you recall, the author, Nancy Mitford, was the eldest of the famous (infamous) Mitford brood; in addition to this book and biographies of Madame de Pompadour, Voltaire and Louis XIV, she wrote classic modern-day novels such as Highland Fling and Love in a Cold Climate. I didn’t know any of that when I read this book, only that I wanted to cure my ignorance of one of the most important-ever German monarchs and fill a hole in my knowledge of German and European history.

It seems to me that Mitford writes history is if she were writing fiction: her eye is always on the telling anecdote or characteristic, and in her biography her Frederick would appear to have more character than even she is used to dealing with; he was the King of Prussia who was more comfortable with the ideals of the French enlightenment but with the morals of the Medici (as he would have described it himself). This eccentricity must have delighted Mitford, seeing as she came from a family of eccentrics, and the portrait she paints of Frederick and, indeed, of all international diplomacy is that of a collection of idiosyncratics who compete with each other by blasting the brains out of each other’s subjects.

However, the more I got into Mitford’s Frederick the more convinced I became that some rather important historical facts had been left out, that Nancy wrote what she wanted to write about and left the rest on the shelf. Overall, her biography has the feel of an overview, like one of those large-scale books that I get off of the Barnes & Noble remnant pile that are full of pictures and reproductions, strung together with a bit of prose. Her Frederick lacks the conversational touch that she brought to historical writing, which means long dry patches as Frederick fights his battles without much character analysis as to why this “Enlightened Monarch” made war against other rulers so that he could expand his power.

Frederick the Great is a good beginning for anyone wanting to know more about this most curious of rulers, full of fluid prose and colorful anecdotes. And pictures; lots of pictures. The focus of the whole is on Frederick’s cultural pretensions as he tried to out-French the French and be accepted as a great power and an equal of the same (this did not stop Frederick from making war on the French, however). Thus, if you are looking for a primer on his battles and diplomacy, it is light on these topics, although they are, of course, covered. It is also, for all of Mitford’s obvious admiration for the man, fairly even-keeled in its treatment of its subject. A useful and colorful addition to the man who ruled “Sparta by day and Athens by night”.