In writing his Vita Karoli Magni, Einhard famously painted the Merovingian kings as little more than political puppets, rolled out for important events, their claim to kingship based upon a hereditary right to rule and, famously, their long hair. They were the longest lasting of the barbarian successor states to the Western Roman Empire (481–751 CE) and laid the foundations for the rather more celebrated Carolingian Empire. Historians have recognized for a long time that the Carolingian efforts to belittle the Merovingian past surely must reflect the very opposite of what they were writing. Scholars also are beginning to recognize the interconnectedness of the early medieval world and the cultural exchanges taking place across the Mediterranean.

In part, it is this interconnectedness and a willingness to look once more at the Merovingian kingdoms from different perspectives that guides this volume. The ambition is a welcome one, even if the book itself is of rather mixed quality. Each chapter asks useful questions of the Merovingian period and revisits both familiar and unfamiliar sources. However, each chapter appears a touch embryonic, shining a light on a number of different topics, but not fully exploring each of the important points raised. This is a great shame because the sources chosen and the quality of the questions asked could provide a new way of interpreting the evidence and the Merovingian world itself. As it stands, this book indicates compelling and though-provoking interpretations and arguments, but these could have been developed further.

The book is divided among four sections, the first quite a general and not entirely cohesive study of the post-Roman world, the second looking to the Merovingian ties with the Mediterranean, the third considering law and religion, and the fourth examining emperors and propaganda. The uniform structure of the book lends itself to a student readership, with each chapter beginning with one or more extracts from important sources, and these forming the route into the large selection of topics found in each chapter. A greater sense of methodological awareness and a fuller exploration of how and why some of these sources have been interpreted (and can be interpreted) would have been useful, but the overall style is good. The book also brings together a mixture of writers, including PhD students and practicing academics. The ambition of the work is praiseworthy, even if the result is not quite the success it could have been.

The opening section looking at the wider post-Roman world is a good example of the embryonic nature of the discussions found within the book. Both chapters in this section provide interesting viewpoints regarding Mare Nostrum (by Yitzhak Hen) and the Council of Mâcon (by Helmut Reimitz), but in each the arguments need to be developed in a much more rigorous and nuanced manner. Hen writes about the intersection of history and geography, drawing upon a good array of contemporary sources. The awareness of how the Goths sought to place themselves into Roman paradigms (17) is an important one but needed to be placed firmly into the ancient traditions of ethnography. Reimitz provides a visceral window into the turbulence of Merovingian politics and religion, offering a promising perspective on how to read Gregory's Histories (esp. 23–27). However, the conclusion appears too wide-ranging and distracts from the analysis offered.

The second section considers the Merovingian kingdoms within the wider Mediterranean world. This is an important perspective, and a necessary one. Scholars are becoming ever more aware of the Mediterranean world as a research area in its own right rather than just an ephemeral part of other historical narratives, and placing the Merovingian kingdoms within this model of cultural exchange forces us to reconsider the established narrative of Frankish identity and the realities of post-Roman Europe. Anna Gehler-Rachůnek considers the Visigothic-Austrasian alliance through the prism of bride negotiation. A stronger argument was needed to really untangle the political relationships, but this a useful discussion of a complex topic. The next chapter, by Hope Williard, is excellent. Although more could have been said of the history of amicitia (friendship, based on mutual benefit and respect, that could contain exchange of favors or services), this is a very well-structured and well-argued chapter. The pieces by Bruno Dumézil and Yaniv Fox work very well alongside each other, forcing a reconsideration of diplomatic actions and language, and stressing the wider expanses of early medieval Europe. Both engage well with the Epistolae Austrasicae, a complex and nuanced contemporaneous collection of letters.

The third section looks at law and religion, and there are some good observations and moments of source analysis here. Lukas Bothe's discussion of human trafficking would have benefitted from thinking more deeply about the realities of early medieval law and the ways it can be interpreted. Nonetheless, this is a compelling assessment of the Roman crimen plagii (kidnapping), namely the Lex Salica, the Lex Fabia, and in particular the Lex Ribuaria. The argument made concerning slavery and kidnapping is not watertight, but the source extracts are well chosen and thought-provoking. Till Stüber's piece on the Fifth Council of Orléans (549 CE) is one of the strongest chapters in the book. Recognizing the issues in the sources, Stüber paints a persuasive picture of politics and religion in the Merovingian world, with “the Austrasian court … equally interested in dogmatic issues that were fervently debated at the time across the Mediterranean” (102). Rob Meens looks to the growing importance of altars and the development of sacred space. Meens provides a fluent examination of the Gellone Sacramentary (late eighth-century Mass book, possibly from Meaux, the earliest of the Gelasian Sacramentaries), and there are some very useful observations made regarding law and penance. However, the chapter is not long enough to support each point made. Tamar Rotman's study of localized religion and ecclesiastic control is well written and persuasive. The analysis of Vulfilaic (who demonstrated his piety by standing upon a pillar) is excellent. The argument Rotman presents is nuanced and erudite, building upon careful source analysis.

The final section looks to emperors, prolepsis, and Byzantine writings. The study of Tiberius II by Pia Lucas opens an important window not just on how Gregory of Tours sought to create an image of good and bad rulers, but also how knowledge could spread from east to west. Stefan Esders's analysis of Fredegar's writings about Constans II asks rather more questions than it answers, but does remind us to think about narrative and prolepsis when dealing with early medieval chronicles. The final chapter, by Federico Montinaro, provides a careful analysis of Theophanes Confessor alongside Frankish material. Although the points made are not explored as deeply as needed, there are a number of useful questions asked here.

The conclusion to the volume is short and focussed, and suggests that the papers collected here “elucidate, each in their own way, how entrenched the Merovingians were in a pan-Mediterranean political, religious, economic and intellectual framework, and how on the other hand, global Mediterranean circumstances left their imprint on Merovingian affairs” (160). I would not agree with this. Some of the chapters demonstrate how the Franks were part of the wider Mediterranean world, but this is inconsistently presented across the various sections. The book is most successful in asking questions of the sources selected and providing windows onto a variety of topics that will certainly benefit a student readership. A full study of Mediterranean influence within the Merovingian kingdoms (and vice versa) remains to be written.