There is a phrase here about people having "altogether too much fun with Pepys and his diary" – that is worth bearing in mind before you buy this. If you know anything about the book, about the randiness that had to be suppressed for centuries, and so on, you may think it is a scurrilous history of plagues, Great Fires, bonking and everything else that might have happened in the 1660s. It's doubtful the hundred reading hours the thing takes would give you that if you sought it, and this certainly doesn't. It's a fair bit more academic than I had assumed it to be when requesting a download review copy.
The first chapter decides that the audience for Pepys' diary was, well, not us but Pepys – both the Pepys a few months down the line needing to justify some expense, some decision, or some flooze, or to have it on record what the state of things was in case someone questioned his judgements at work; and the Pepys of many years later, looking back. Chapter two looks at the wheres and whys of it being in shorthand – the tidy, bottom-justified shorthand of someone planning his visual neatness and appeal, and also going great guns to keep some of the opinions and sexual dalliances secret. Then we see how risky the diary was, not just for his marital reputation but for all the politics and royal troubles of the decades – and how it was still kept as part of Pepys' collection of papers, virtually ending up with his naval history documents he bequeathed to Cambridge University.
We then finally see the thing in print – the first, bowdlerised edition in 1825 the probable reason for this book to come out exactly 200 years later. Here is the process and the response alike – the secrecy of the debate as to how much to include for the public, partly because nobody but the bloke to turn it all into longhand had read it all in decades, and the debate about how valuable a historical document it actually was. Next are the later years – the time when new editions were slowly drip-feeding the reader with the previously edited chunks, while those who didn't know they should be Victorian prudes were valiantly chasing the gossip about what had been left out.
It's meaty stuff next, as we juggle the perceptions of Pepys – is he the man who saved the navy, and was diligently on the right side of history, a writer who made one of the most basic, accidentally humorous journals out there, or a wife-beater who could by today's terms be called a serial rapist? However intentionally funny or not Pepys was, you must think he would have enjoyed the stirring parodies of his diaries that both world wars saw – less so, Benny Hill's take on his philanderings. We then go on to the modern era, where – because over a million words of the Pepys is not enough – we have online presentations of it in daily entries, complete with a wiki kind of notation, making it even more laborious to absorb. At least the full, unexpurgated – if not fully 'translated' – version is in existence.
We close, as this is modern academe and it's the law, with a look at women and black characters, and what the diary says and doesn't say about them. The fact Pepys employed coloured servants that were presumably his "property" as slaves was certainly something I learnt from this, but I think by far the bigger take from it all is that he really should have kept himself to himself. I think it a sign of his standing however – or the standing we've given him in between Charley 2 and Charley 3 – that I've happily read a fairly heavy tome about a book I'd never have the intention of reading. I'd never read such a companion to something like "War and Peace", which is a lightweight at half the length of the Pepys.
This is readable, and engaging, and purposeful and sensible – it's certainly not nearly as scurrilous as the worst of us, like me, might have thought. It feels definitive in taking us from the initial scribing to the wish to have a digitised copy of the echt deal online for all, and yes, it certainly covers a lot of topics. Just none of them are particularly headline-worthy. Still, I happily feel that's that subject thoroughly ticked off, and so to – oh, where was it again?