For much of his life, Napoleon was aware of his place in history and working on his own legend, even rewriting the specifics of his past. Rather than posing a problem for historians - a truly honest autobiography would have been better, but historians would still argue about it - Napoleon's documents allow an insight into his life and mind.
So too do the many accounts and letters published by others connected to Napoleon, but the sheer quantity of material, coupled with the vast secondary literature, needs a lifetime of study to master, if it can be mastered.
This is the first problem McLynn tackles in Napoleon, stating quite clearly in the prologue that his work isn't to be considered definitive; instead, this biography is simply a 'clear synthesis' of our current understanding. This approach opens Napoleon to a much wider audience, because if you're only going to read one biography you should pick the most accurate (of which there is no consensus for Napoleon), or one which explains multiple view-points. Of course, a synthesis offers little for those already well-read, but McLynn is selling himself short as he offers plenty of insights produced from his own interpretations.
Napoleon is thus aimed at a broad, general audience and within it McLynn seamlessly blends excellent narrative with well-handled discussion. Moving through from Bonaparte's birth to his death, the book exhibits a strong tendency to split military and non-military subject matter into alternating chapters but - although some reviews say differently - there are never strict divisions and details relevant to one chapter often bleed into another. Indeed, such a division would be artificial and McLynn is to be praised for his perfect assemblage of material, spreading complex subjects across several chapters while never leaving anything hanging and picking up older threads with ease.
There is, however, a change in emphasis across the book as the issue of Napoleon's psyche reduces and military events grow to dominate. The first dozen chapters concentrate on the young Bonaparte's emerging personality, and McLynn is clearly a believer in nurture over nature as he tackles the relationship between Napoleon's childhood and his adult personality, forcibly arguing - with help from Freud and Jung - that the Emperor's character - formed by his 16th Birthday - related directly to the incidents of his youth. Acceptance of these arguments varies according to your faith in various forms of psychology - I'm not convinced by the Oedipal Napoleon - but McLynn certainly has good sources.
Deep discussions of Napoleon's mindset and nature continue throughout the books first half, especially during his marriage to Josephine, and military tactics are just a skeleton to the subject's relationships, social life and worries.
However, as the forces arrayed against Napoleon grow, so the space McLynn devotes to the Emperor's feelings shrinks, and there is no real picture of how and why Napoleon acted as he did in 1812 and 1814, nor quite how the deposed titan felt on St. Helena. This is unfortunate, but the frequent non-military discussions on the Marshalls, Bonaparte's family and other key figures are fair compensation.
McLynn rarely makes sweeping statements, preferring to point out the contradictions and differing ideas of other commentators and he isn't afraid to leave an issue open where there is insufficient evidence: did Napoleon try and kill himself in 1814? Equally, he isn't afraid to draw a blunt conclusion, finding absolutely no redeeming features in the 1812 campaign. McLynn is also willing to argue with both those who seek to damn Napoleon, and those who idolise him; in doing so, he defines a believable middle ground and provides a superb synthesis.
