Historians of the early modern period are increasingly aware that, quite often, there was never one singular reason for a given phenomenon. An explanation for the people accepting the reformation agenda of Henry VIII, for example, if based solely on economics or solely on social control or solely on theological convictions is limited and, therefore, suspect. Fortunately, this seems all too obvious to many, and thankfully we are increasingly seeing this sober (possibly post-revisionist) perspective in books dealing with a range of topics. Religion and the Book in Early Modern England by Elizabeth Evenden and Thomas Freeman is, then, a welcome and much needed corrective to our understanding of John Foxe and his Acts and Monuments. Commonly called the “Book of Martyrs,” this unprecedented work was both a history of the reformation and a product of it. But Evenden and Freeman offer more than a corrective; they rightly combine the study of this particular text with a very illuminating study of book production and a sustained study of the practice of reading and writing history in the early modern world. Not only have they corrected a number of misconceptions about this book—most notably the nature of its influence—they have offered a correction to the best way to approach the history of books and book culture in early modern England. Scholars interested in these areas (which are not neatly divisible but dynamically related) will need to become familiar with the analysis, sources, and arguments that Evenden and Freeman deftly raise here.
A fine example of their approach regards the genesis of the multiple editions of the Acts and Monuments. Starting with the first in 1563, four editions appeared during the life of John Foxe and that of the printer John Day, each being significantly different with portions appearing, disappearing, or being altered. The common assumption has been that each edition owed its production to the previous edition selling out. But an explanation which turns on consumer demand misses a much more complicated scene, supposing that book production in the sixteenth century operated, all things being equal, in roughly the same way it does today, that sales drive things. Evenden and Freeman carefully explain how the monopoly system operated, how one could achieve government patronage, the professional reputations that were at stake, and even the fraught personal situation between Day and his son Richard—all vital factors in the successive editions. Moreover, the third edition (1576) was notably inferior to the first (1563) and the second (1570). In short, the decision to move forward with a fourth edition was not in direct response to the market. This recognition helps us with much more than just the study of this particular book. As the authors put it: examination of the production of the Acts and Monuments “provides a graphic illustration of the dangers of assuming that sales of a book and the number of editions it went through are an accurate guide to its importance or influence” (345).
Evenden and Freeman also give us a rich discussion of exactly what we mean by calling John Foxe an “author.” This issue has received attention from other scholars who have challenged the idea that Foxe created the entire text (the modern meaning of “authorship”). Much of the material in the Acts and Monuments was drawn from dozens of other historical texts and was compiled by teams of people including John Bale, likely the greatest influence on Foxe, as well as the circle of scholars maintained by Archbishop Matthew Parker who busily “annotated, cross-referenced and compared the texts of the different manuscripts that the archbishop consulted, commandeered, begged, borrowed and perhaps even stole” (152). While Foxe may not have been an author in the contemporary sense, neither was he a simple compiler. He was meticulous, Evenden and Freeman explain, in his editorials, his preliminary materials, and his marginalia. These give shape to the whole of the book. Here is where Evenden and Freeman demonstrate, once more, their care in analysis. In these portions of the Acts and Monuments it becomes clear that Foxe was engaged in the project of history in the service of reformation. It was axiomatic for Foxe that if people knew history better, particularly Catholics, they would see the truth. Moreover, there was an urgency to uncover papal malice over the ages as Foxe perceived the end times drawing near. Remarkably, a good deal of this work of historical-theological-polemic was achieved through the unprecedented number of illustrations at a moment when Protestants were uneasy about images. As Evenden and Freeman explain, the stridently anti-Catholic woodcuts in the “Book of Martyrs” gratified elite readers and shaped the popular conscious about the wickedness of the pope long after the death of Foxe and Day and well into the nineteenth century.
Many of the issues addressed in this study have received attention elsewhere and that is a major strength of it. For while there is much new here, this book also brings into conversation fields which have been unnecessarily separated. As Evenden and Freeman show us, the Acts and Monuments is remarkable for the technical skill required to produce it anywhere in early modern Europe, particularly England whose printing industry was behind the curve. It also met a polemical need to buoy the claims of the Elizabethan regime and established church. Additionally, it was a work of history on a scale requiring enormous effort among manuscripts, chronicles, and even first-hand interviews with those who had witnessed the grisly deaths of the “martyrs” in Mary's reign. Further, it was a work shaped by the convictions, commitments, circumstances, and drive of many players, critically Foxe and Day. Evenden and Freeman bring all of these factors—religion, politics, the material demands of the printing industry, the reading, writing, and perception of history—into conversation to give us a rich study. At points witty, their analysis is convincing, and, as they write, their text is a little book about a very large book. Avenues are opened here and the authors welcome future discussion.
