Julian Luxford has written a subtle and intelligent book on a relatively neglected but, in his hands, most rewarding theme. His concern is with the patronage of art in Benedictine communities in the later Middle Ages, not – it must be stressed – simply by these communities but also patronage by members of the laity within a Benedictine environment. Indeed, some of his most perceptive passages deal with external patronage of this sort. His account of aristocratic patronage at Tewkesbury Abbey, even though this once-neglected house has recently become the subject of attention, is a model of precise, sensitive historical analysis. As a way of controlling a large topic Luxford limits its treatment in various ways. He is explicitly concerned only with the Benedictine order, appearing at times almost regretful in this inevitable act of self-denial. And, within the order, he confines himself to the houses of the south-west of England, although this geographical restriction is generously defined to include even Winchester. His concept of patronage is reductionist; it is defined in terms of the commissioning and financing of works of art. Hence there is comparatively less concern with matters of taste and style or with the artists themselves. Nor does he venture extensively into the area of literary patronage, although monastic self-perception is perhaps even more overt in this area than it is in their artistic activities. Yet what distinguishes this book is the fact that Luxford is never content with easy, traditional generalisations, whether about the role of monastic superiors in building projects, the motives behind the establishment of aristocratic mausolea, the meaning of heraldic embellishments or many other themes. Instead he applies a delicately scrupulous, but persistent, analysis of the evidence, often to the point of reassuringly tentative uncertainties. His examples are learnedly numerous, at times even redolent of the card index, but they are balanced by conclusions which are perceptive and at times even strikingly epigrammatic. At the heart of the book lies a religious order of great antiquity, immense prestige and substantial wealth which was nevertheless then threatened in a multitude of ways, by the restraints of mortmain, by the impact of plague, not only on monastic numbers but also on traditional methods of agriculture, by competition from rival religious orders and also from alternative recipients of patronage such as parish churches and chantries, and by direct ideological criticism both orthodox and Lollard. In some areas, particularly building projects, the order sailed on with an apparently heroic indifference. But underneath often lay a compensatory concern to stress status. This can be seen in many contexts, in buildings which were in fact the collective enterprises of the obedientiaries masquerading as the brainchild of distinguished abbots, in the abbey of Gloucester and Worcester Cathedral adroitly exploiting their assumed status as royal sepulchres, in the characteristically Benedictine identification with high-status liturgical vestments, and in their emphasis on the prestige conveyed by an abbey's patronal saints. All this is analysed with scrupuluous mastery by Luxford. So also is his account of secular, landed patronage.

Particularly to the point is his emphasis on the reciprocity of this relationship. Far from demonstrating increasing secular influence over monastic life Luxford shows how the abbot of Tewkesbury could look the Despensers in the eye, as it were. Himself the master of considerable wealth, his house could offer much that such a noble family might value: tradition, familial unity, prestige and a guarantee of continual prayers. In important ways such patrons were supplicants, seeking spiritual succour. Yet their loyalties were not to the order as such but rather to a particular house chosen for its associations with the family. It could as well have been a Cistercian or Cluniac community. Such perceptive reflections permeate this fine study. One's only serious criticism might be that la déformation professionelle of the art historian occasionally sways Luxford's judgement, leading him at times to appear to argue that artistic achievement is an indicator of, or indeed almost identical with, spiritual vitality. A contemporary critic of late medieval monks is dismissed as ‘pietistic’, even though his views were shared by such as Henry v, himself no enemy on principle to monasticism, and the strictures of later writers are dismissed as historical hindsight. Particularly pertinent here is the reflection of David Knowles (whom Luxford unhappily demeans): ‘When once a religious house or a religious order ceases to direct its sons to the abandonment of all that is not God … it sinks to the level of a purely human institution, and whatever its works may be, they are the works of time and not of eternity.’