Having written about such 16th-century giants as Thomas Cranmer, Thomas More and Cardinal Wolsey, British historian Ridley brings much Tudor research to this well-documented but plodding life of Henry VIII. Despite four centuries of ""apologist"" historians who chose to lay responsibility for the successes and tragedies of Henry's momentous reign on various ministers, clergy and wives, the King made his own decisions, Ridley argues. The tradition of blaming loyal crown servants such as Wolsey, More, Cranmer and Cromwell is a tribute to Henry's political genius for finding talented men to serve their purpose in his schemes, only to become his scapegoats if need be. Thus, Henry's ""unnecessary"" excursions into war with France and his fickle political alliances; his landmark divorce from Catherine of Aragon and resultant break with Rome; and his hypocritical vacillation between Catholic (albeit anti-Papist) and Protestant religious policy; the thousands of arbitrary heresy convictions and unjust executions; the sacking of the monasteries and holy shrines; the execution of two wives; all were, Ridley contends, the determined manipulative actions of an absolute monarch accustomed to the satisfaction of all private passions and whims, who sacrificed others to his personal expediency unburdened by conscience or accountability. The marvel of this reign was that Henry (who catered to himself and appealed to the ""basest,"" most fickle instincts of his subjects) remained popular through sheer strength of will, charisma, arrogance, instinctive shrewdness, and an acute sensitivity to the nature of politics and public opinion. Unlike the 1968 Scarisbrick biography (which he credits often), Ridley focuses on a detailed, ponderous chronicle of political infighting, fickle alliances and betrayals, the politically motivated marriages, the maneuvers of various popes, rather than the larger historical perspective of the reign or intriguing character portraits of these historic giants. The fascinating stars and victims of Henry's court (including six wives and three children, who all succeeded him to the throne) are faceless names, and Wolsey, More and Cromwell one-dimensional pawns in Henry's hands. Their rise and fall are here, carefully dated, lifeless events. Diligent, but prosaic, this survey of Henry's reign is only for the dedicated Tudor scholar. Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

As in his Statesman and Saint (1983), Ridley here again plays the iconoclast, attacking the standard view of Henry VIII as a king more given to pleasure than governing and strongly influenced by court factions and powerful ministers. Henry monopolized power, originated all policies, and cruelly manipulated councillors and subjects. Ridley routinely dismisses the opposing opinions of a whole generation of careful scholars like G.R. Elton and J.J. Scarisbrick, without any attempt to deal with the substance of their work. Though claiming to reflect the views of Henry's contemporaries, Ridley also ignores them when they conflict with his thesis (p. 18, 58, 84, 122, 303). Among other errors, he revives the myth of Henry VIII's riches; discounts the role of faction in the fall of Wolsey, More, and Thomas Cromwell; denies Cromwell's influence on the Reformation; minimizes the rise of Parliament as a limitation on his ``tyrant''; treats the Pilgrimage of Grace as a monolithic popular religious revolt; sensationalizes monastic corruption contra David Knowles; and, using very dubious statistics, Ridley compares Henry's handling of crime to Hitler's holocaust! Rather than making scholarly findings accessible as popular history should, Ridley's latest work often simply misinforms.-W.B. Robison III, Southeastern Louisiana University