“Elizabeth and Leicester: The Truth about the Virgin Queen and the Man She Loved”, by Sarah Gristwood

416 pages, Penguin Books, ISBN-13: 978-0143114499

So, Sarah Gristwood’s Elizabeth and Leicester: The Truth about the Virgin Queen and the Man She Loved sat on my shelf for years before I finally got around to reading it (a fair description of most of my books, come to think of it), and I’m rather sorry I waited so long, for I thoroughly enjoyed it. I have found, lately, that I need to expand my historical interests, as my first loves – the Napoleonic Wars, the American Civil War, to name but two – just don’t do it for me like they used to (well, familiarity does breed contempt, no?). And I thought that Elizabeth and Leicester would fall into the same category, seeing as I must have half a dozen biographies of the Virgin Queen. But no: Gristwood’s work kept me enthralled and interested from first page to last, I am happy to say. And why shouldn’t it: a great deal of speculation has swirled about the relationship between Elizabeth I and Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, for 400+ years – Were they lovers? Did they have a love child together? Was Elizabeth complicit in Amy Dudley’s untimely death? – and Gristwood sorts through the facts and the fiction to present a fascinating examination of the personal and political impact that this lifelong relationship had on the queen and her principle favorite.

This is the first scholarly book to come out in several years about the relationship of Gloriana and her Robin, and it deftly illuminates just how influential Robert Dudley was in Elizabeth’s life: not only was he a close friend and confidante, but he also acted as her ambassador on many occasions; according to Gristwood, Leicester was tasked to negotiate a marriage for Elizabeth and was even considered as a potential groom for Mary Queen of Scots, all in order to serve his Queen’s interests. Elizabeth had the power to set Dudley high or destroy him, and Leicester seemed to thoroughly captivate her and was, consequently, able to wield tremendous influence over her because of this and was powerful enough to be seen as a threat to Elizabeth’s closest political advisors, William Cecil in particular. Additionally, he championed the Protestant agenda in England, was chancellor of Oxford University and led Elizabeth’s armies against the Spanish invasion of the Netherlands. Previous scholarship, by contrast, tends to depict him as somewhat of a dandy with more style than substance.

To be fair, Elizabeth and Leicester has its share of tabloid elements: there was the rivalry and bitter jealousy between Elizabeth and Leicester’s wives, one of whom, Amy Dudley, died under suspicious circumstances that left all of Europe speculating whether or not Elizabeth had her murdered. Leicester, too, had to deal with his fair share of rivalry when he witnessed Elizabeth’s flirtations with some of her other favorites and, worse, Frenchmen. All of Europe waited in breathless anticipation for Elizabeth to choose a groom, for there seemed to be an endless parade of men presented to her as potential husbands, and her reluctance to marry only fueled more speculation about her relationship with Leicester (there was also the appearance of Arthur Dudley, who claimed to be the bastard son of Leicester and Elizabeth). These rumors scandalized Europe and still captivate centuries later but Gristwood presents them in a way that allows her to deconstruct and dismiss most of them.

There is much going on in this book, since Gristwood covers Elizabeth’s life from her childhood to her death, more or less the extent of her relationship to Leicester. It is meticulously researched yet still completely accessible, adding fresh insight to the wealth of Elizabethan scholarship and illuminating all the reasons why Elizabeth is one of the most fascinating monarchs in English history. Elizabeth and Leicester is a must for fans of Tudor, and especially Elizabethan, history.

“The Wages of Destruction: The Making and Breaking of the Nazi Economy”, by Adam Tooze

832 pages, Viking, ISBN-13: 978-0670038268

Yeah, I know…more Nazis. Well, whad’ya want? I gotta buncha them and damnit you’re gonna read these reviews, see? Nearly a decade after it first appeared, Adam Tooze’s The Wages of Destruction: The Making and Breaking of the Nazi Economy is considered a classic by many and one cannot address the subject of the Third Reich’s wartime economy without reference to this book, which is basically an economist’s interpretation of why the Nazi state failed to achieve its objectives by offering several unique perspectives as to the causes. Overall, Tooze wrote a landmark book and a very good piece of historical work; the book is more focused on economic indicators and input variables (e.g. labor, raw materials, etc.) than either R&D or output.

The Wages of Destruction is divided into three broad sections. The first section covers the German economic recovery after Hitler came to power; Hitler wanted to spend 5% to 10% of Germany’s GDP on rearmament, but the economy was wobbly. Tooze makes interesting points in these opening chapters about how Hitler, Göring and friends coerced German businesses to adapt to their rearmament priorities, including forcing the coal industry to capitalize synthetic fuel production in 1934 and the nationalization of aviation companies like Junkers. Indeed, the ramp-up of aircraft production in Germany from 1934 to 1939 was phenomenal, but also expensive and wasteful. The author’s discussion of the Volkswagen program as a disastrous flop – but which was touted by Hitler as a great success – was also very illuminating about how the Third Reich ran industrial programs.

The second section covers the period 1936–1940 as Tooze focuses on three levers that inhibited German rearmament in the lead-up to war: the scarcity of foreign currency (which made it difficult to purchase raw materials overseas); the shortage of critical raw materials such as copper and rubber; and the persistent shortage of skilled labor. These are all good points, but Tooze does not always provide the supporting data to fully evaluate these issues. A number of the tables that are provided are not well explained and lack labels, which makes it hard to understand a graph with ambiguous number values. Another interesting point that Tooze makes is the Nazi failure to invest in railroad development which led to persistent transport issues during the war as demand greatly exceeded supply.

The third and final section covers 1941–1945 and is the best in the book with the most interesting details about how all the weaknesses in Germany’s economy undermined industrial performance. There is some discussion of specific programs, such as tanks and U-Boats, but the evidence presented is less than conclusive. For example, Tooze does not examine German assembly line practices, which were not very efficient, or the tendency to “over-design” weapons until they were too complex to mass produce. One chapter is focused on Albert Speer and the alleged “miracle” of production in 1943–44, which Tooze dismisses as mostly propaganda.

Overall, Tooze’s thesis is that Germany’s economy was not ready to wage a global war and was badly mismanaged, which he does a fairly good job of supporting, even though specifics are sometimes insufficient. The fact that Germany was badly out-produced even by the Soviet Union appears ipso facto to support Tooze’s conclusions. However what Tooze fails to do is to show why – if the Third Reich’s economy was such a mess – that it took its enemies so long to defeat it. Somewhere in here, there is an economist’s over-estimation of the economic levers and an under-estimation of the human factors, which the Third Reich actually did an exceedingly good job of organizing. In short, what a lousy way to run a country.

“Eleanor of Aquitaine: The Mother Queen”, by Desmond Seward

264 pages, Dorset Press, ISBN-13: 978-0880290555

“In fact one may argue that Eleanor had little, if any interest in revenge, and had made up her mind to rebel from the day that she realized Henry was not going to share his power with her. She had been brought up to be a great ruler, and Henry, like Louis, had deprived her of her destiny…” Eleanor of Aquitaine: The Mother Queen by Desmond Seward is a biography of one of my favorite historical figures: Eleanor was a 12^th Century member of the Ramnulfids – The House of Poitiers and thus rulers in southwestern France – and was Duchess of Aquitaine in her own right and successively Queen consort of France (1137 – 1152) and England (1154 – 1189) as well as a patron of literary figures and one of the most powerful and wealthiest women in western Europe during the High Middle Ages. Hers was a life of daring and adventure: the two kings she married certainly had their hands full, with first Louis VII of France seeking an annulment to their marriage and later Henry II of England imprisoned her for helping his sons try to usurp his throne. Oh, and about her children; maybe you’ve heard of them:

• William, who died aged three-years old 
• Henry, “The Young King”, who was crowned and officially ruled by his father’s side 
• Richard, later King Richard I of England, better known as Cœur de Lion 
• Geoffrey, later Geoffrey II, Duke of Brittany 
• John, later King John of England (yes, that King John) 
• Matilda, Duchess of Saxony and Bavaria as the wife of Henry the Lion 
• Eleanor, Queen of Castile and Toledo as the wife of Alfonso VIII of Castile 
• Joan, Queen of Sicily and Countess of Toulouse as the wife of William II of Sicily

She lived her life to the fullest and was devoted to Aquitaine and her children (especially Richard the Lionheart). Her life was exciting and intense: when she was not going on Crusade, she was leading troops into battle, or getting some needed down time in a nunnery. She believed in Courtly love and was a champion of everything Arthurian. Her second husband and their reign was a golden age in England, but their marriage was a battle and they were not above using their children to impose their royal wills...all of which makes Eleanor of Aquitaine so disappointing as Seward does her little justice. The majority of the book focuses on the men in her life and not on Eleanor at all, though it seems to be historically accurate with many sources. Getting into more details about the book, I didn’t appreciate how Seward imposed some of his own views on readers, especially when speaking about Richard when he flat out states that it was because of Eleanor that he was gay…not once, but multiple times. His tone was disdainful and reproachful, and I found it annoying and rude. Other than that, as mentioned above, Seward mainly focuses on the men who Eleanor was involved with instead of the Queen herself, which was disappointing to say the least. No doubt there are other, better biographies that do the grande dame justice, and I'll let you know when I find them.