For anybody working in the field of English Reformation studies, Margaret Aston was a monumental presence. Her first book was on Thomas Arundel: a study of church life in the reign of Richard II (1967), and this brush with Lollardy propelled her onwards, via Lollards and reformers (1984) to perhaps her most enduring and influential work to date, England's iconoclasts, I: Laws against images (1988). Brilliant essays such as her forensic analysis of the illustrations in the Bishops’ Bible (1992), and insightful books like The king's bedpost (1993) and Faith and fire (1994) cemented her position as one of the most eloquent and erudite experts on English visual culture in the period of the Reformation, and a steady stream of essays and book chapters thereafter continued to work through themes relating to Lollardy, iconoclasm and (particularly printed) imagery. The long-awaited sequel to England's iconoclasts never appeared. However, along with the sad news of Aston's passing in November 2014, a great loss both for her friends and her family and for the scholarly community more widely, came a slightly happier revelation: Broken idols of the English Reformation was headed for publication.

This is, fittingly, a monumental book. Of a slew of big books about the Reformation recently published by big beasts such as Carlos Eire, Eamon Duffy, Diarmaid MacCulloch, Peter Marshall and Alec Ryrie, this is by far and away the biggest, topping 1,100 pages in total and costing £120. It contains ninety-nine black-and-white illustrations, and as its bibliography shows it is based on a massive quantity of evidence: predominantly early printed books and modern (post-1800) published editions of sources, as well as voluminous secondary research It also contains a thorough and useful index. Aston's forensic attention to detail, penetrating insight and comprehensive mastery of her subject are on show from the first page. This is a book that could only have been written after a lifetime of scholarly enquiry, and is a worthy testament to Aston's formidable skills as both writer and historian.

Broken idols is divided into three parts, which are formed of nine substantial chapters. The introduction notes that ‘the book pursues its theme topically as well as chronologically, and readers need feel no obligation to start at the beginning and proceed doggedly to the end’ (p. 4). Part i presents a chronological overview of ‘the call to destroy’ (ch. i) and those who chose to answer that call (ch. ii) across the sixteenth century, while chapter iii focuses on the changes of direction in the decades leading up to the Civil War. Part ii presents a series of case studies ‘to demonstrate the wayward inconsistency of a magisterial Reformation conducted by Tudor supreme heads of the church’ (p. 5). The first is a fascinating comparative study of the fates of two saints: St George and St Thomas Becket (ch. iv). The second is a consideration of reformers’ attempts to remake the soundscape of the English Church, in particular their efforts regarding bells and organs (ch. v). The third is an interesting discussion of portrayals of the Trinity and of its three persons (ch. vi). Part iii offers overviews of the whole period from three central perspectives: church glass (ch. vii), cross and crucifix (ch. viii), and the relationship between word and image (ch. ix). The book is summed up and rounded off by means of a substantial conclusion.

There are strengths and weaknesses to this mode of organisation. It would indeed be possible, as the introduction suggests, to dip in to the book, especially one of the chapters from parts ii or iii, and come out feeling much wiser about the topic in question. Reading the whole tome, however, is something of a feat of endurance, in spite of the fact that Aston's prose is light, witty and beautifully constructed (for example on Catholic biblioclasm during the 1569 Northern Rising: ‘It was an age for ripping psalters as well as stripping altars’, p. 211). There is an awful lot of repetition and redundancy, as the same familiar narrative (Henrician ambiguity, Edwardian radicalism, Marian restoration, Elizabethan equivocation, Puritan militancy, Laudian ceremonialism) recurs at multiple points, albeit with thought-provoking differences of emphasis and nuance. The case of Henry Sherfield is another too-recurrent leitmotif. The book is simply too long, as are most of its chapters: chapter viii, ‘The cross’, is a tour-de-force, but does not need to go on for 175 pages. Perhaps, had the circumstances of its publication been different, more editing might have taken place: still, we are far more fortunate to have the book in its current form than not at all.

Leafing through the bibliography, it is also notable that there is almost no engagement with scholarly work published since about 2007. That missing decade means that while this is still a valuable book, it does feel somewhat cut off from the most recent work on Tudor visual and material culture, which has stressed themes such as the repurposing, recycling and re-imagination of traditional objects and motifs. Perhaps most conspicuous by its absence is Tara Hamling's Decorating the godly household (2010), and the chapter on music makes no reference to my own Music and society (2010) or Willis's Church music and Protestantism (2010). Broken idols is therefore in some ways quite a depressing read at times, emphasising destruction, hostility and loss over current interpretations which place more weight on narratives of continuity, adaptation and evolution. Aston's most provocative argument is her closing suggestion that the spirit of iconoclasm may have ultimately helped to usher in the disenchantment, perhaps even the secularisation, of the world (pp. 1004–5). Sadly we will never read a fuller statement of her case, which again is somewhat divergent from recent works such as Walsham's The reformation of the landscape (2011). And yet, for all these few minor shortcomings, Broken idols remains a suitably powerful, perceptive and significant final contribution to the field by a truly brilliant and inspirational scholar.