One of the periods of human history that I most enjoy studying is the late Middle Ages, especially from a Western European perspective. There is a certain fecundity (in terms of ideas and the generation of concepts) about this period, which I think may be traced to a few principal roots. From these roots we have the Renaissance and the deep apical meristems of the Enlightenment, from which key concepts and movements would then sprout and later grow to inspire modernity. Of course, viewing history as a process has its own complications, and I do not mean imply a teleological view. I just mean to say, at least as a prerequisite, that the early modern period was preceded by the many crises of the late Middle Ages. The systematic nature of these crises, which culminated in a series of events in the 14th and 15th centuries challenging the foundations of centuries of European stability, seemed very much to till the social soil in just such a way that radical changes across all areas of society would ultimately take form.

I suppose my fascination with the late Middle Ages has just as much to do with the prerequisites of modernity (if it can be framed this way) as the overall renascence of western society. An interesting, albeit broad question one could ask, is why did western society emerge from such a dramatic state of crisis in the way that it did? To be even more speculative: according to what change of parameters and conditions (micro or macro) may the many deep, systematic changes have taken a dramatically different form?  One has to remember that there were many competing factors, and the Enlightenment project (as such a significant outcome in history) didn’t emerge without resistance from competing forces. So, the answer to such questions undoubtedly has many layers. What is not in doubt, and hence the confidence of the opening paragraph, is that through the crises of the late Middle Ages the roots of notable sociopolitical-economic developments can be traced to what we now think of as the modern project. I think there is a small well of clarity to be gained from this perspective. But I also think – and here resides another reason for my fascination with this time period – it was the epistemological development that also played such a crucial role. By this I mean the generation of new movements of human thought – indeed, consider for example the advent of the medieval university and other knowledge generating institutions – that for whatever reason the late Middle Ages inspired. Hence, inasmuch as the tangible reshaping of social, political, and economic systems of power were a feature of the time, the conditions also had to be right for new patterns of thought such that the humanism of the Renaissance and later the radical ideas of the Enlightenment could take proper hold.

There is a book, which I finished reading earlier this year, that encircles just these sorts of questions and that I have come to consider contemporary epic: Power and Thrones: A New History of the Middle Ages by Dan Jones. At 736 pages, and sweeping thousands of years of history, this is one of the greatest works I have read on the Middle Ages. It is an epic because, as I see it, Jones displays a certain depth of obsession that anyone with a passion for a particular academic field will recognise. What makes this book exceptional, however, is that Jones is not afraid to share the unrelenting nature of his obsession. The result is a book unapologetically immersed in detail, one that is not satisfied with being another formulaic piece of pop history. This is a true tome, and I mean that in the proper sense of the word, which seems increasingly rare these days. Putting aside the textbook, of which I could name many epics, the last time I could say something like this about a trade paperback was possibly Roger Penrose’s The Road to Reality (it is the first that comes to mind). The depth of research behind Power and Thrones, and the author’s unreserved nature in sharing his passion about studying the microscopic details of the Middle Ages and macroscopic trends in human social development through this time – it gave me so much joy.

Covering almost entirely the one-thousand year period of the Middle Ages that stretched between what the English historian John Foxe described as ‘the primitive time’ on the one side – essentially the time of the ancients, pre- and early Christianity, and the height of the Romans – and the ‘latter days’ – referring to the era of the Reformation and the period when western navigators started exploring the New World, Jones expertly weaves a story of power. In many ways the fall of the Roman Empire left a vacuum, and from this we witness the rise of the various Barbarian factions, the Byzantines, and the emergence of the Arab states that would later incite an era we now know of as the Crusades. But the story of power – I read Jones’ thesis as a story of the tangible moments of radical reshaping of social, political, and economic systems as well as their respective knowledge generating institutions – is also one entwined with our most basic existential condition. This becomes apparent in the way climate change and pandemics have long forced humanity to move from place to place to survive, to rethink existing structures, and to reorganise socially. For example, the Viking story would not be the same without the reality of shifting climates and the necessity of migration. The plagues that surfaced in the sixth and fourteenth centuries forced entire societies to change, with their spread decimating large portions of the world. In today’s world, people speak of economic resiliance inasmuch as socio-economic resourcefulness as key staples of future economic development (proceding from various environmental and econonic crises), not only in relation to future pandemics but other systemic issues. As Jones highlights, the medieval period has many insights to give. Century upon century, we encounter revolutions whose nature vary; we observe periods of great kings and radical artists; we witness many bloody wars and cultural conflicts; we observe periods of economic destitution, proverty, and social desparation; and all throughout we see evidence of the underlying drive of human civilisation to achieve better comforts, to obtain reprieve from (or cope with) the onslught of existential indifference in nature, and to establish more accurate knowledge on the workings of nature and the world.

For me, the chapter on Attila the Hun, and certainly the ones on the Mongols and the Franks, were so perfectly woven that the art of history writing became that of tapestry making. The imagry is so vivid.

It is unfortunate, then, that an essay on this book will need to wait. I wish I could write more, and join in on discussing some of the finer points of this period of history. For now, it will have to join the large pile of half-finished essays to which I may return at some point in the future. What I will say is that I recommend Power and Thrones to anyone who shares a love for history. Also already on my ‘to read’ shelf are Jones’ other titles: Magna Carta: The Making and Legacy of the Great Charter, Crusaders, and his first piece of historical fiction Essex Dogs.