River Kings, by Cat Jarman

 

The thesis of this book is simple. The Vikings travelled East as well as West. A single bead found near Repton is evidence of how far the Vikings travelled, or at least, how far that bead travelled. It might have been brought by a Viking from the East; although, of course, it might have been traded several times. Fancy genetic techniques enable us to determine that many of the Viking burials were of people born over a very wide range. 

That’s it, more or less. The novelty, if you haven’t been reading popular archaeology recently, is Jarman’s thoroughness at researching some of the Eastern finds and burials. That doesn’t prevent the book being, paradoxically, somewhat English-focused at the same time as drawing attention to what might have been happening in the East. There is a strange insistence on sources from Britain as being in some way more important than sources from elsewhere. Describing the use of rivers by the Vikings, the author states (page 80), discussing the Vikings in France: 

The written sources describe in detail how the Seine was utilised … by an invading Viking army.

After several sentences describing this source, which describes how the Viking attackers set three of their own ships alight to burn down a bridge, she then complains about the lack of evidence from England: 

So this isn’t news: we know the rivers were vital for the movement of the Vikings across many parts of Europe. What we don’t know are the actual details … the knowledge of how this took place. [p80]

Well, you had a detailed description a few sentences ago!

But the biggest problem is the poor writing. Unfortunately, although Jarman has an interesting case to make, the argument is drowned by problems with the writing. It’s a shame that this book, designed as a popular history book that summarises much recent research on the Vikings in an entertaining way, should be marred by annoying lapses in the writing that could easily have been corrected by a copy-editor. I don’t mind the author’s slightly patronising manner: “we know that …” (she means that she knows, but we, the readers, presumably, don’t). Three pages of adulatory reviews at the start of the book state that “her written style is wonderful”; but the loose writing is anything but.

In her enthusiasm to present the argument, Jarman emphasizes too much.  I’ve lost count of the number of times something is “notable”, “significant”, “critical” or “important”. For example, “When trying to understand exotic objects and their appearance at sites like this, there is one place above all that is critical to understand.” (P114). Other examples (several per page) of words that could be eliminated are:

·        Spelt out explicitly in historical records [p49]

·        Especially useful [p62]

·        We have seriously underestimated [p62]

·        It is crucial to understand … [p113]

·        In this particular case [p108]

·        This highly important idea has received too little attention until now [p93]

·        Before we picture them as entirely pragmatic [p92]

Unfortunately, once you have started writing like this, everything must become important or significant, otherwise it is liable to be ignored. The text becomes a jumble of intensifiers. 

There are also many examples of cliches:

·        The bustle of modern life [p80]

·        In this particular year… [p92]

·        Another thought that strikes me [p89]

·        First and foremost [p88]

·        Unfortunately, from this particular period, those [sources] are few and far between. [p80] … Maps in this part of the world are few and far between [p81]

 

Three examples of redundant words from a single page:

·        We are not entirely sure when the map was created [p82]

·        This latter technique is particularly exciting [p82]

·        What is particularly useful about this map [p82]

Around eight pages are devoted to the ring mentioned above. Incidentally, the ring is illustrated in the paperback edition, but there is no mention in the text that there is any illustration. The illustration is useful because it shows that the Arabic writing is on the stone rather than on the setting of the ring. Jarman describes at length the exotic nature of the ring, partly because of the Arabic writing on it. The idea that something foreign might be exotic appears so astounding to the author that it has to be explained at length – and formulated as a question: 

What did it mean to wear a faceted carnelian bead imported from a distant and exotic part of the world, as opposed to a cheap glass one that had been made locally? [p118]

I would guess the same as today. But Jarman labours the point for another paragraph: “Their value … was recognised by those who used them and those who saw them, in the same way that today we might recognise luxury brands and status symbols.” I think we knew this already. 

Jarman, in her enthusiasm, moves from supposition to certainty. Why were these exotic items fashionable? 

Their desirability may have lain purely with the objects themselves for their artistic value or they may have symbolised … a link to the places abroad. [p118] 

But a page later, this “may have” has become a certainty: 

Clearly, these displays of wealth and luxury became irresistible for those with social ambitions. For many, in the later period, they also became emblems of experience and new influences. [p119]

So, an interesting idea, and potentially a good writer; it just needs some solid revision to the text.