Rachel Carnell's monograph, Backlash: Libel, Impeachment, and Populism in the Reign of Queen Anne, is a bold endeavor, striking by its format, approach, and subject matter. Backlash is, in essence, a book-length case study of the events of 1709–10, mediated through parallel and sometimes intersecting political trajectories. It is Carnell's contention that a study of 1709–10—marked by the Sacheverell affair, the publication of Delarivier Manley's New Atalantis (1709) and Memoirs of Europe (1710), the disgrace of the Marlboroughs and the Whigs to the benefit of a new Tory administration, and the subsequent cabinet reshuffling and elections of 1710—is key not only to understanding Queen Anne's reign but also the current political climate in the second decade of the twenty-first century. Reading the Sacheverell affair as the start of a popular “backlash against three decades of ‘progress’ since the Glorious Revolution had begun” (3), Carnell insists that in the reactionary turn of the year 2016—in the United States and the United Kingdom alike—following the progressive mandates of Barack Obama and David Cameron there are echoes of the surge in populism after the liberal changes of 1689.

Carnell organizes Backlash into eight chapters, an introduction, and an epilogue. Initially centered on individual figures (the Marlboroughs’ paths to preferment and relationships with Anne in the first chapter, Manley's own trajectory in the second, a double portrait of Sacheverell and Godolphin in the third), this structure progressively morphs into a discussion of the increasingly conflictual relationship between the queen and her favorite (chapter 4). As chronology takes over, we follow the rhythm of prosecutions and publications, with chapters 5, 6, and 7 focusing on the various stages of the Sacheverell affairs and Manley's own brush with the law. In the final chapter Carnell discusses—very briefly, but probably necessarily so given the format of the book—the aftermath of 1710 and the short window of Robert Harley's exercise of power (1710–1714), before concluding on the death of Anne and the subsequent flourishing of Walpolean Britain. It is in the introduction and epilogue that Carnell's construction of a parallel between the populist political environments of 1709–1714 and 2016–2020 comes to the fore, this line of argument surfacing only occasionally in what is primarily a discussion firmly anchored in late Stuart Britain. A series of illustrations accompany the narrative; the engravings are particularly effective at conveying contemporary perception and representation of the Sacheverell mania so well discussed by Carnell. Though the “Published Source” section of the bibliography makes for an occasionally confusing guide—grouping primary and secondary sources alike in a melting pot of titles, initials, and last names—the notes and index are helpful in facilitating the navigation of this very detailed study.

Given the extremely narrow timeframe and focus of the book, there is a constant tension between macro- and micro-history, broad strokes and close readings, necessary generalizations and minute characterizations—perhaps more so than in most current histories. Though a difficult exercise, Carnell negotiates these tensions admirably, discussing for example the politics of Anne's wardrobe choices in relation to the complex state of European affairs after Malplaquet (7–10) or shedding light on the intricate inner workings of the Marlborough-Sunderland-Godolphin family alliances and their structuring of the British political landscape well after the death of Anne (49–50, 217–8). The book is similarly full of extremely vivid visual depictions of early eighteenth-century London life: an opening night mediated through the eyes of Henrietta Godolphin, intermingling the political and literary gossip that could make or break a man's career or a woman's reputation (91–8), the relocation of Sacheverell's trial to Westminster Hall and Christopher Wren's struggle to expand seating capacities following the popular frenzy around the event (118–21), or the politics of seat allocation during the public trial (140–42). Fleshing out Carnell's analyses, these episodes set the tone and frame the content of the fiery polemical publications and events discussed, underlining the depths of the cultural wars opposing Whigs and Tories. It is in her analysis of the Sacheverell riots and their impact that Carnell's case on populism is at its most nuanced and convincing, showing how these, in turn, boosted and weakened the cases for both the defense and the prosecution, while proving a remarkably difficult case for law enforcement, and drawing attention to Queen Anne and the Earl of Sunderland's capacity for emergency planning (151–57). In this respect, one of Backlash's many strengths is Carnell's unapologetic rehabilitation of the last Stuart monarch. Discussed as a pious, emotionally intelligent, and politically astute monarch, Anne is given ample space and agency in Carnell's discussion of the queen's very own backlash against confidents and courtiers turned tormentors and political enemies. Delarivier Manley, Sarah Churchill, and Abigail Masham are also given sustained attention, with Carnell always making sure to highlight their impact as political actors. To connect the politics of the late Stuart reactions to those of the contemporary moment, Carnell makes original and insightful use of the themes of religious intolerance, the emergence and regulation of free speech and freedom of the press, and the limits of party apparel. Her assessment of the Sacheverell trial's results—a crystallization and hardening of rhetorical and ideological stances on both sides of the political spectrum—strongly resonates with the current deadlock between the liberal and conservatives “political tribes” of today (163, 231). However, the reader might wish for a more sustained engagement with the question of the diffusion and consumption of information, something inherent to the escalation of our contemporary culture wars on both sides of the Atlantic, and equally part of the picture under Anne.

Backlash is a compelling entry point for undergraduates and provides a trove of close analyses and perceptive characterizations to scholars of Manley, Anne, Sarah Churchill, and Sacheverell. It is also a necessary counterpoint to old and new interpretations of the last Stuart monarch's political legacy, among them the limits of Yorgos Lanthimos's The Favourite (2018), which is discussed in the introduction.