An awkward fact about studying history is that the more you read, or the more qualified you become, the less you can say for certain. Many of the 'facts' we're taught at school soon reveal themselves as, at best, interpretations drawn from ambiguous evidence, at worse fallacies. Readers' of Keith Dockray's new study of Henry V won't have to wait long for this realisation, because the first section of his book – nearly eighty pages – surveys the changing portrayal of Henry throughout history.
When biographers do include a historiographical survey they often tuck it away in the introduction, and Dockray should be praised for taking the time to guide his readers through the development of Henry V's persona in both academia and legend, through the range of sources and the problems in interpreting them and, because there is simply no escaping his influence, through the relevant plays by Shakespeare. Even using a third of the book Dockray has to skim and often has no time to elaborate his conclusions regarding sources. Nevertheless, anyone taking notes will finish with an excellent reading list.
The rest of the text is split into two sections: a conventional narrative of Henry V's life and actions, followed by an examination of his character, his achievements and failures, and finally his legacy. However, the book's tone is set entirely by the opening section, because Dockray studiously and continually points out areas where our knowledge is incomplete, sketches out the possibilities and then refuses to commit himself fully. Where another author might have shifted through the evidence and then simply said 'Henry had a hell razing youth', or another might have said 'Henry didn't', Dockray bravely says 'he might have'.
The resulting picture of Henry V and his actions is often, but necessarily, hazy. Many people will find this frustrating, and it certainly weakens the book's section on personality, which really doesn't add anything to the earlier discussion: indeed, because Dockray effectively has to go through Henry's life twice – once to discuss the historiography and once for the narrative – there is repetition. However, this is history as I frequently encounter it in sources and how I think introductory works should be written. The emphasis is on what we do and do not know, with stresses on what is supposition and conclusion, rather than a historian banging away to try and force his opinion home.
In addition, this approach allows the author to present a very rounded picture of Henry V, placing him inbetween the competing extremes of noble chivalric warrior and, as Desmond Seward favours, cynical war criminal. Tempus have used the line 'Who was the real Henry V?' to sell the book, and Dockray has produced as unbiased a study as I've read.
There are some problems. 242 pages of text, with many black and white illustrations and an easily readable font doesn't leave much room for depth, and I frequently wished Dockray would expound for longer on an issue. Of course, it may be that the author felt dropping to another level of explanation would have doubled the book’s size and negated what is, ultimately, a text easily digested by casual readers. There were also a few pieces of modern slang that won’t help the book age.
Henry V is less a biography than an introductory study, but there is no finer text on the market for students or general readers who want to pursue an interest in the titular king (especially once the paperback is released). With only a few hours of remarkably light and entertaining reading you will know, not just about his life, but about how he has been used by later authors, about the debates raging amongst historians and about the sources you might want to read, although a thematic, or even annotated, bibliography would have been preferable. However, Dockray's book is light on depth and short of conclusions, so anyone who only wants to read one book on Henry V, rather than several, are still better off with Christopher Allmand's Henry V.
