Reformation : Europe's House Divided 1490-1700 [Paperback]

Historians are always torn between writing chronologically or thematically. Here, MacCulloch offers his readers the chance to have their cake and eat it: first, a grand narrative of the Reformation through the 16th and 17th centuries; then, a thematic section treating subjects as varied as witchcraft, idolatry and homosexuality.

It both serves as an introduction to the Reformation, introducing and explaining the key figures and their roles (e.g. Erasmus, Luther, Calvin, Borromeo and St Ignatius...), and as a critique on established ways of thinking.

For MacCulloch, it is the ideas behind the Reformation that are most significant and that must take priority over an interpretation of the Reformation that primarily views it as a contest for power e.g. between the Pope and nascent nation states or as a battle for Europe among key elite families.

Thus, he unashamedly has a chapter on St Augustine's theology since he views interpreting Augustine as so central to the issues. In this, overall, he is very convincing. More than that, he is brilliantly lucid. For example, his explanation of the distinction between Calvin's eucharistic theology as opposed to Luther's or Zwingli's (or the Pope's, of course)(p248ff) is both clear and also sympathetic. (Those five pages have allowed me to think through my own eucharistic theology more than any other article I have ever read, theological or historical.) That said, his intellectualism occasionally leads him to make some odd points: e.g. paraphrased from p83, "If there is one explanation of why the Latin west experienced as reformation and the east did not, it lies in listening to the New Testament in the new voice of Greek (not Latin)." Really? That sounds like the bias of an academic to me.

Furthermore, while this is definitely a balanced account, he nevertheless has his heroes. Reginald Pole, perhaps surprisingly, is one of them and it's a pleasure to have MacCulloch rehabilitate him from his reputation as a historical failure: generally, MacCulloch likes people who do their best to promote inclusivity in the Church, even if they failed to achieve their aims. Similarly, from the Protestant wing, he champions people like Philip of Hesse, sponsor of the Colloquy of Marburgh, who resisted a particular confessionalisation in his territories, but wanted a more open scene.

His other, related bias is to those who championed faith on the margins: such as Juan de Valdes, and the others in the Spirituali movement. Thus, MacCulloch may not have an established bias (as with Eamon Duffy and Catholicism) but that doesn't mean he lacks bias per se.

What he does have, however, is a great ability to empathise with religiosity from both sides of the spectrum. His chapter on "The Spirit of Protestantism?" (p528-33), seeing the potency of the locus on the spirit within the togetherness of the congregation, is a marvellous evocation of how a Reformed spirituality really does exist: it's not just a limping beast, as Duffy for example might imply. Yet he's also able, say, to empathise with the discipline and spirituality of the Jesuit movement (p219ff).

Moreover, he pointedly gives credit where it is due as well as highlighting times of shame: for example, he doesn't exonerate the Spanish Inquisition in any way, but he does credit the way it worked tirelessly to prevent burnings for witchcraft (that raged in northern Europe) because it was so sceptical about the phenomenon.

The chapter on sexuality is perhaps more idiosyncratic: do we really know enough to say that homosexuality "formed a common part of the family lifecycle" (p625) sating sexual needs between adolescence and marriage in one's mid-twenties?

But to pick up on and query such examples is really to pick up on how lively and full of vitality this book is. It fully justifies great praise.

It's very readable (though I found it a bit of a slog in the middle, as he explains the seemingly endless French wars of religion. But that's the nature of the subject, I guess) and full of choice anecdotes.

If you want a first introduction to the Reformation, you might be advised to go to Owen Chadwick's book, because that is half the length, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't miss out on MacCulloch.

"Reformation" is a magnificant work of history, but it's more than that. It's an exploration of human spirituality, of how that is shaped by theology, and then what the consequences are when theological convictions are given real political power and influence.

It's a classic.

It is a rare delight to read a book that is so crisply and wittily written yet formidable in its academic rigour. The narrative runs through the Mediaeval era to ca. 1700 and encompasses all parts of Europe and the European overseas territories in an enjoyable yet thought-provoking prose. It is a good book to read as much as a useful reference for students of the Reformation and early modern Europe in general. MacCulloch takes the English Reformation from its splendid isolation and puts it within the wider European context – something that was urgently needed and accomplished with great success. The book’s greatest strength lies with the ability of the author to communicate theological and ecclesiological subtleties that were so contentious during the Reformation and divided the Latin Christendom. One of many personal favourites of this reviewer’s is on p.25 (second paragraph) explaining the Aristotelian nature of existence, a concept which is crucial in understanding the idea of transubstantiation – it is indicative of MacCulloch’s ability to write calmly but with wit.

MacCulloch deals with all aspects of the Reformation, not merely the theology and politics of it. It tells more than the stories of great Reformation and Counter-Reformation figures (e.g. Luther, Calvin, Zwingli or Borromeo, Loyola) – they receive their due treatment – but this work also mentions ‘Radicals’ (e.g. ‘Anabaptists’) on the fringes and those hitherto neglected characters such as Bullinger and Bucer. Politics is integrated seamlessly to the narrative. Also, how Reformation(s) changed the attitudes of many early modern people in matters such as witchcraft and sex are discussed succinctly in the third part of the book.

A work that deals with such a long time period and a huge area necessarily has to be selective and on the whole MacCulloch’s decisions are judicious. There may be questions regarding the special emphases placed on the Anglo-Saxon areas, that is to say the Anglican Church and the developments in the UK and in North America. On the other hand, while the ‘peripheries’ of Latin Christendom do receive far better treatment in this book than most other works on the Reformation, there are certain areas that would have benefited from discussions. The Nordic area (e.g. Finland) and south-eastern Europe (other than Royal Hungary and Transylvania, e.g. Croatia) in particular stand out. In this respect one very small thing that puzzled this reviewer was ‘Sigismond’ of Sweden – either he is Sigismund (Sweden) or Zygmunt (Poland). Even though the section ‘Further Reading’ points to the most important and accessible literature, it would have been of greater help to a keen reader or a student, had there been a more extensive bibliography. If grasp of European geography is tenuous, especially in East and East-Central Europe (could you put your finger to Poznan in Poland or Cluj in Romania on a map?), readers are advised to have a good map nearby for consultation as readers will be transferred hundreds of miles away from Geneva on one page to a corner of Transylvania on the following.

All in all, this book is a testimony to great scholarship and a perfect introduction to the complexities of the Reformation(s) in Europe and beyond. Together with Euan Cameron’s ‘The European Reformation’, this book will serve as a sound introduction to the period. It is highly recommended.

I disagree with some of the other reviews here that this is bland or a difficult read - I approached it with some tripidation but found it both reassuringly scholarly and yet immensely readable, probably because the author has a distinctive 'voice' which mediates perfectly through the vast amount of material he covers. MacCulloch knows his material intimately and yet manages to convey the complexities without ever resorting to the fatal dumbing down of many authors. As someone with a vague idea of the history of the period, but little knowledge of religious philosophy, I wasn't sure if this would be too 'technical' but actually I found it fascinating and unputdownable. It dropped a star because at some points I felt MacCulloch was trying to cram in too much e.g. the complexities of religious thought across the whole of Europe, but the third section in particular on the differences the reformation made to actual peoples' lives in terms of the way they thought about sex and the family, for example, more than made up for some of the intricacies. All together a brilliant read.