Warrior:

Main Review:

I’m going to come right out at the start and say I read this book because of Uthred of Bebbanburg. With the latest series of The Last Kingdom recently dropping on Netflix, and the latest Assassin’s Creed Game finally confirmed to be focussing on Vikings, I was in the mood for embracing my inner Old English enthusiast and digging a little deeper into the Early Medieval World of Pagans, Princes and Shieldwalls.

What struck me almost straight away is that the opening section of the book, which deals with the archaeologist (and co-author) Paul Gethring finding the skeletal remains of a Saxon Warrior in a dig near Bamburgh is that its written more like a story than as a report. There’s even a moment where a freak storm threatens the dig-site, and Paul swears to the gods that we will defend the so-called ‘Son of Thunder’. As the book continues, their passion for their field is not only quickly apparent but incredibly infectious. Not only this, but I found myself really admiring their professed interest in the Son of Thunder precisely because he was not a member of Saxon nobility or the scion of a King – just a common man living his life in the 7^th Century.

Having come fresh from binging The Last Kingdom and the adventures of Uhtred, I realised my tendency to forget that the Saxons did not solely exist to be attacked by Vikings. Their history stretches over 600 years, with more than half of it not featuring even a little Viking raid. The Saxon world that Albert and Gething take us to is over 200 years before the time of Alfred the Great or Aethelflæd, the Lady of Mercia. The Saxons of this time were still largely pagan, and a man could call himself ‘King’ if he had about 50 loyal soldiers supporting him.

It must be said that the book is a lot more about archaeology than it first lets on. It frequently goes on extended detours explaining the methods and processes of field archaeology that I didn’t mind per se, but they do this by dropping a LOT of archaeologists’ names on the reader, not even counting the many Aethelstans, Edwins and Cynewulfs that will get mentioned when the book is talking about the history. The bigger issue here is that the authors seem to want to portray the archaeologists it mentions like academic rock stars or illustrious film directors. We get details of their frequently violent or alcoholic behaviour, but the authors seem to think this behaviour is justified because of their ‘talent’ for the field. As with so much history, it quickly becomes apparent that behind most of these ‘great men’ are a series of exasperated women who are actually responsible for their success and who don’t get the praise they deserve from the authors. Given I picked the book up to learn more about Saxon History, as I imagine the majority of people who buy the book do; I could have done without the extended sections on the personal lives of a bunch of over-hyped archaeologists.

When the book does get into talking about the Saxon world of the 7^th century, it is wonderfully broad in scope, covering from Wessex in the south all the way to Pictland in the very north. Whilst it flits between the many petty kingdoms frequently, it never does so confusingly, and you are always made aware of the location being discussed and how it fits into the bigger picture. Despite their claims to be wanting to focus on the ‘common man’ there is a noticeably large focus on the big movers and shakers of the land – the various Kings and their retainers, but I put this down to be an unfortunate proof of how much of our records of the past only deal with those with power. The prose-like style of the introduction ebbs and flows throughout, with some sections, such as the first Christian missionaries to Britain reading more like a historical fiction novel than an official history book. It makes the book much easier to read, but did cause me to chuckle when the authors dismissed a section of Bede’s account as having been amended to tell a better story, rather than being a solid historical account. There is a certain amount of humour in the book, with little witticisms and comments that I enjoyed throughout. Special mention has to go to the completely strait-laced way the authors lament ‘the great problem of archaeology is that the people being studied are dead’.

Given the way the story moves around the British Isles, it was especially handy having some beautiful maps at the beginning of book to be able to keep track of where things are happening (usually involving someone being invaded). What the maps really drive home is that the various ‘nations’ of Britain were a lot more malleable and interconnected that is perhaps usually thought of. The Kingdom of Northumbria often extended up into what is now Scotland, the Welsh kings were frequently fighting near modern-day Lincoln and Irish Monks could be found anywhere they could set up a camp without being attacked by pagans. The usefulness of the maps did make me wish the authors had included even a basic family tree. Most of the characters named are related to each-other in some way, and a simple chart would have helped make sure brothers and nephews weren’t being confused at any point.

As a fan of the trade delegations in the prequels of Star Wars, I wasn’t surprised to find myself fascinated by the systems of royal patronage when it came to the granting of land to loyal soldiers, especially the fact that land always went back to the King on the death of the retainer – meaning the same piece of land could have 4 different leaders in 20 years. The other section that really interested me was the discussion of Saxon names. With them not having surnames, they used similar pre-fixs to get across the same point (so you’d know that Alfred, Athelflæd, Athelwulf and Athelstan were all related). Albert and Gethring explain that, unlike in the later period with Popes and Kings constantly having the same name, it was considered unlucky for the Saxons, in case the bad luck of the first Saxon rubbed off on the second. This does give a funky explanation why Uhtred, son of Uhtred, just cannot seem to catch a break in the Last Kingdom.

I had hoped to enjoy this book going in, and with the exception of the sections on problematic archaeologists, it was a really fun, really easy read. As much as I enjoyed it though, I can’t help but think that if I wanted to reach a bigger audience, it would be much better as a documentary than a book. The stories it tells are very interesting and worth knowing about, but I can’t imagine many people would go out of their way to read it, even if they’re a Last Kingdom fan. For those interested in learning about the Early Saxons though, you’ll be in good hands with Warrior. And remember. Destiny is All.

P.S I think this book may have the prettiest cover out of everything I’ve reviewed so far. It’s beautiful!