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The Mirror of Great Britain: A Life of James VI & I
Brought to you by Penguin.
A major reassessment of one of Britain’s most strange and fascinating kings, James I of England and VI of Scotland
James VI & I, who died 400 years ago, was one of Britain’s most consequential and interesting monarchs, not least in creating the British monarchy itself by joining the English and Scottish thrones. A major intellectual, James's preoccupations ranged from witchcraft and theological controversy to hunting, diplomacy, poetry and sartorial fashion. The 'Mirror of Great Britain' was a spectacular jewel that gave symbolic endorsement to James's vision of British union, but mirrors themselves - with their limitless capacity to magnify, illuminate and distort - supplied James with one of his favourite literary metaphors.
Ruler of Scotland for nearly four decades before his accession to the English throne in 1603, James was a ‘cradle king’ whose long reigns encompassed extraordinary dramas, including his abduction in the ‘Ruthven Raid’ in 1582 and his attempted assassination in the Gunpowder Plot of 1605. In his lifetime, James often confounded contemporaries’ expectations while his posthumous reputation has been distorted by crude stereotypes.
Closely attentive to James’s own words – in numerous publications, manuscript musings, topical verse and private correspondence – Clare Jackson's wonderful new book tells the story of this highly unusual monarch with great flair and insight.
Clare Jackson 2025 (P) Penguin Audio 2025
A major reassessment of one of Britain’s most strange and fascinating kings, James I of England and VI of Scotland
James VI & I, who died 400 years ago, was one of Britain’s most consequential and interesting monarchs, not least in creating the British monarchy itself by joining the English and Scottish thrones. A major intellectual, James's preoccupations ranged from witchcraft and theological controversy to hunting, diplomacy, poetry and sartorial fashion. The 'Mirror of Great Britain' was a spectacular jewel that gave symbolic endorsement to James's vision of British union, but mirrors themselves - with their limitless capacity to magnify, illuminate and distort - supplied James with one of his favourite literary metaphors.
Ruler of Scotland for nearly four decades before his accession to the English throne in 1603, James was a ‘cradle king’ whose long reigns encompassed extraordinary dramas, including his abduction in the ‘Ruthven Raid’ in 1582 and his attempted assassination in the Gunpowder Plot of 1605. In his lifetime, James often confounded contemporaries’ expectations while his posthumous reputation has been distorted by crude stereotypes.
Closely attentive to James’s own words – in numerous publications, manuscript musings, topical verse and private correspondence – Clare Jackson's wonderful new book tells the story of this highly unusual monarch with great flair and insight.
Clare Jackson 2025 (P) Penguin Audio 2025
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Published August 28, 2025
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About the author
Clare Jackson
13 books29 followersClare Jackson lectures in the history of political thought at the University of Cambridge.
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January 6, 2026
The King of Great Britain
Clare Jackson’s The Mirror of Great Britain is a book that explores how the concept of Britain was imagined, debated, and contested in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. Rather than narrating political events in a linear fashion, Jackson focuses on the language, texts, and ideas through which contemporaries sought to understand the nature of Britain itself. The result is a study less concerned with the inevitability of British union than with its fragility, contingency, and ideological complexity. This approach proves especially illuminating when set against the life and personality of James VI of Scotland and I of England (1566-1625).
James himself looms over the book as both a catalyst and a problem. Crowned king of Scotland in 1567 as an infant following the forced abdication of Mary, Queen of Scots, James grew up amid political instability, factional struggle, and repeated regencies. These early experiences shaped a ruler who was intensely conscious of authority, legitimacy, and the dangers of disorder. Jackson shows how James’s accession to the English throne in 1603, uniting the crowns of England and Scotland, did not resolve these anxieties but instead amplified them. The Union of the Crowns created new political possibilities while exposing deep uncertainties about sovereignty, law, and national identity.
Jackson is particularly effective in situating James’s intellectual self-image within these debates. James styled himself as a learned king, steeped in theology and political theory, and authored works such as Basilikon Doron and The Trew Law of Free Monarchies, which articulated a strong belief in divine right monarchy. Yet, as Jackson demonstrates, James’s vision of kingship was often at odds with the political cultures he inherited. His desire for a formal political union of his kingdoms, going so far as to style himself ‘King of Great Britain’, met sustained resistance in the English Parliament and scepticism more broadly. The book carefully traces how this resistance was articulated through appeals to history, law, and custom, revealing the limits of royal authority even under a monarch who believed profoundly in it.
James’s personality further complicates the story. Jackson does not indulge in caricature, but her analysis allows room for the king’s contradictions: intellectually confident yet politically insecure, rhetorically committed to unity yet often impatient with opposition, deeply Protestant yet committed to moderation and consensus. His preference for peace over war, most notably in ending England’s long conflict with Spain in 1604, fed suspicions about his commitment to Protestant militancy. Events such as the Gunpowder Plot of 1605 only heightened anxieties about religious identity and loyalty, reinforcing the very confessional tensions that writers and preachers struggled to reconcile with visions of a united Britain.
One thing that surprised me is Jackson’s thematic rasher than chronological approach. I have to say that this worked well. With this approach she shows how James’s life events, such as his Scottish upbringing, his English accession, his dynastic ambitions, and his management of religious division, became touchstones in broader debates about what Britain was, or ought to be. History was repeatedly mobilised to praise or to warn, to legitimise union or to argue against it. This is the underlying theme of the book, how we went from England and Scotland to Great Britain.
Ultimately, The Mirror of Great Britain is a work of serious scholarship that looks to reshape our understanding of James VI and I and the world he sought to rule. It demonstrates that Britain was not born in 1603 as a coherent political or cultural entity, but was instead imagined, resisted, and reimagined through debate, anxiety, and ideological struggle. If you are interested in the long and uneasy origins of British identity, this book os for you. It is a challenging but rewarding book, one whose themes continue to resonate in modern discussions of union, authority, and historical memory.
Clare Jackson’s The Mirror of Great Britain is a book that explores how the concept of Britain was imagined, debated, and contested in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. Rather than narrating political events in a linear fashion, Jackson focuses on the language, texts, and ideas through which contemporaries sought to understand the nature of Britain itself. The result is a study less concerned with the inevitability of British union than with its fragility, contingency, and ideological complexity. This approach proves especially illuminating when set against the life and personality of James VI of Scotland and I of England (1566-1625).
James himself looms over the book as both a catalyst and a problem. Crowned king of Scotland in 1567 as an infant following the forced abdication of Mary, Queen of Scots, James grew up amid political instability, factional struggle, and repeated regencies. These early experiences shaped a ruler who was intensely conscious of authority, legitimacy, and the dangers of disorder. Jackson shows how James’s accession to the English throne in 1603, uniting the crowns of England and Scotland, did not resolve these anxieties but instead amplified them. The Union of the Crowns created new political possibilities while exposing deep uncertainties about sovereignty, law, and national identity.
Jackson is particularly effective in situating James’s intellectual self-image within these debates. James styled himself as a learned king, steeped in theology and political theory, and authored works such as Basilikon Doron and The Trew Law of Free Monarchies, which articulated a strong belief in divine right monarchy. Yet, as Jackson demonstrates, James’s vision of kingship was often at odds with the political cultures he inherited. His desire for a formal political union of his kingdoms, going so far as to style himself ‘King of Great Britain’, met sustained resistance in the English Parliament and scepticism more broadly. The book carefully traces how this resistance was articulated through appeals to history, law, and custom, revealing the limits of royal authority even under a monarch who believed profoundly in it.
James’s personality further complicates the story. Jackson does not indulge in caricature, but her analysis allows room for the king’s contradictions: intellectually confident yet politically insecure, rhetorically committed to unity yet often impatient with opposition, deeply Protestant yet committed to moderation and consensus. His preference for peace over war, most notably in ending England’s long conflict with Spain in 1604, fed suspicions about his commitment to Protestant militancy. Events such as the Gunpowder Plot of 1605 only heightened anxieties about religious identity and loyalty, reinforcing the very confessional tensions that writers and preachers struggled to reconcile with visions of a united Britain.
One thing that surprised me is Jackson’s thematic rasher than chronological approach. I have to say that this worked well. With this approach she shows how James’s life events, such as his Scottish upbringing, his English accession, his dynastic ambitions, and his management of religious division, became touchstones in broader debates about what Britain was, or ought to be. History was repeatedly mobilised to praise or to warn, to legitimise union or to argue against it. This is the underlying theme of the book, how we went from England and Scotland to Great Britain.
Ultimately, The Mirror of Great Britain is a work of serious scholarship that looks to reshape our understanding of James VI and I and the world he sought to rule. It demonstrates that Britain was not born in 1603 as a coherent political or cultural entity, but was instead imagined, resisted, and reimagined through debate, anxiety, and ideological struggle. If you are interested in the long and uneasy origins of British identity, this book os for you. It is a challenging but rewarding book, one whose themes continue to resonate in modern discussions of union, authority, and historical memory.
January 15, 2026
★★★⯪ (3.5, for those who cannot load the half-star character).
The Mirror of Great Britain: A Life of King James VI and I (2025), by Clare Jackson, represents the most recent of an active trend of revisionist interpretations of James VI (of Scotland) and I (of England), the first Stuart King, who was King of Scotland from 1567, at just 13 months, and King of England and Ireland* from 1603 until his death in 1625.
The traditional historiography, lasting from the 1650s until the mid-20th Century (at a minimum, depicted James as a lascivious, foolish, head-in-the-clouds, failure of a king who, like the much-maligned Edward II, was obsessed with his favourites to the point of his kingdoms’ and kingship’s ruin. Of course, James’s sexuality played a prominent role in these assessments, for he was quite unambiguously attracted to men (though more likely bisexual than homosexual). This was known by his contemporaries and would be used to smear him or to paint use it as evidence of his lack of kingly qualities. The revisionist (and now widely accepted) opposition to this interpretation begun in the 21st Century, but has reached its maturity in the 2020s, with a number of public-facing and academic works (of which this book lays somewhere in between) showing more interest in James as a person, his sexuality in a not-so negative light, and, most importantly, the quality of his reign, particularly after 1603. Jackson’s book is part of this trend.
*Wales was not an administrative unit at this time, being annexed into the English Kingdom at this point. It would not regain a legal status until devolution in the 20th Century.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The book is organised thematically rather than chronologically, though there is a vague chronological shift from start to finish. As with many at least partially public-facing history books, Jackson commits one of my biggest pet peeves and uses fashionable, vague chapter titles rather ones that just clarify what the chapter is about. In any case, the themes covered are not always cleanly ring-fenced, but can be generalised as follows (in order):
Introduction; James’s love for writing; his birth and troubled early years in Scotland; his education and educators; his traumatic relationship to violence and his aversion towards it for most of his life; his poetry; his relationship with Mary (Queen of Scots, his mother) and Elizabeth (First, Queen of England), his ‘double first cousin’ and godmother; his marriage to Anna of Denmark; his views on witchcraft and daemonology; the texts he published as king; the relationship between England and Scotland under James; his health and sense of image; his obsessive love for hunting; his relationship (personal and political) to religion and political authority; the King James Bible; a separate religious chapter (they are different enough to merit the two chapters); Jacobean Ireland; his relationship to Parliament; his constant financial woes as King; his dynastic diplomacy; his relationship with his first favourite as King of Three Kingdoms, Robert Carr; his sense of jurisprudence; the early British colonies in Bermuda and Virginia; his most (in)famous favourite (and partner), George Villiers; James’s death.
Though every chapter is interesting, it felt a bit unbalanced as to how attention was distributed. For instance, I am unsure that poetry required an equal amount of space to James’s Parliaments. Similarly, the scope of the book felt a bit too ‘zoomed in’ at times, and, for instance, it feels hard to make a proper judgement of James without knowing how his rule looked outside of high politics. What was the economy like in this time? How did popular religion and politics change? What were the class relations of society and how did they change? Perhaps answering all of this would require a longer book, but it does feel that at least some level of more effective use of space would have helped.
That said, nothing felt redundant, and despite the relatively self-contained nature of the chapters, the author does not repeat herself, and every chapter was interesting and informative. Outside the introduction, it does not really engage with historiography (as you would expect when the book is at least partially trying to appeal to a popular audience), but that which is in the introduction sets the scene, purpose, and importance of her intervention perfectly well. I expect it will be a bit too academic in its tone and content for a lot of casual readers, but by academic standards it is well-written and engaging.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
What is the actual intervention being made, and what is the book’s thesis, if anything? It’s a bit unclear. Yes, it is a ‘riposte’ against the now discredited earlier and wholly negative interpretations of James’s rule, but Jackson is not necessarily a trailblazer here, and it is just one book among a large body of recent works on the first Stuart king. I cannot say I am familiar enough with the recent historiography to evaluate its novelty, but one can say that enough had already been written that a simple ‘reassessment’ on its own would not be original. You could say that Jackson’s revisionism is not to say that James was ‘good’ in any moral sense; she does not shy away from his more dire characteristics such as his intense misogyny (even by the standards of the time), dictatorialism, hypocrisy (between what he wrote and how he acted), and tendency to be wooed and enamoured, even outside of a romantic context, such as with the Spanish Ambassador, the Count of Gondomar. Rather, it is that he was very intelligent, that he was well-regarded by his contemporaries, and that he had an ideological sophistication and novelty (against the base absolutism the Stuarts are often associated with) past historians neglected.
On these counts, I think Jackson succeeds. It is undeniable, from the diverse sources and people Jackson draws from, that James was considered exceptionally intelligent and capable, even as a boy. He was said, by friend and foe alike, to be far ahead of his age in wisdom, maturity, and intellect, even considering his position and the natural sycophancy it attracts. Indeed, among those who praised him were not sycophants, and were even political opponents (such as his abusive and anti-absolutist tutor, George Buchanan). Though his contemporaries, especially when young, often saw him as a particularly manipulative and deceptive individual, even when used against him it included an admission of his ability. I won’t delve too much into James’s philosophy right now, but it suffices to say that, while he was ‘absolutist’ in a sense (I use the term colloquially), he was more complex than that, and he did, indeed, have some novel characteristics as a monarch, such as his desire to lift the veil of mysticism around government, and a compulsion to explain himself and justify himself to his subjects, to win them by word and not just gavel.
But intellect makes not a great ruler, and intellect is varied enough that it is a truism to say that, for instance, a great poet may not make a great political thinker, policy developer, or head of government.
Was James VI and I a good king on his own terms? Jackson is surprisingly and disappointingly quiet about this, and even in the final sentence of the book only goes as far as to call him ‘interesting’. It’s hard, in part because of the prioritisation decisions mentioned above, to glean too much of a conclusion from the book, but the initial indications, I would say, are…not particularly?
Those successes most clear from the book are from his reign in Scotland: he showed remarkable political cunning to extricate himself from his dismal situation as a child and he asserted kingly authority as it had not been for generations and secured the safety of his person and, even if he had not inherited the English throne, his progeny. He reined in the over-mighty nobility and significantly lowered (though did not end) their internecine violence, quarrelling, and duelling. Yet even here, he showed a bizarre lack of ruthlessness perhaps associated with his traumatic relationship with violence as above—the Earl of Bothwell was at his mercy several times, yet his inaction allowed Bothwell’s rebellions to continue incessantly, endangering the state’s and his own personal health.
In England, it seems he was less successful, especially at those issues he valued most of all. He failed to stabilise the royal finances or to establish a stronger or more stable basis for state spending, he failed to enact any sort of closer union between England and Scotland, the early colonial endeavours of his kingship were mostly failures, he failed to rein in the power of the English Parliament or to heighten the King’s powers institutionally, he failed to pacify Ireland such that it would break out in another serious rebellion after his death, he dithered and delayed to the point where he achieved not a great deal with his dynastic diplomacy, he failed to act with force or coherence amidst a catastrophic continental European scene, he failed to quell either the Catholic or Puritan religious trends, he (accidentally) fostered a toxic and dysfunctional court culture through his favouritism and inability to separate love from work, he failed to reform the inefficient, ultra-corrupt monopoly system of economic production. That said, he did oversee the embryonic development of the scientific method, but the extent to which that can actually be credited to him is debatable.
It’s worth discussing two things here that have been debated in the historiography, but not so much in this book. First, it is partially true that the lavish opulence of James wasn’t just from his own personality but was part of the process of government at the time, still being so heavily based on patronage in its most unpleasant form. Still, James actually did take it to an extreme, and damaged the royal finances far more than, say, Elizabeth had.
Second, it’s worth going back to the ‘favourites’ discussion a bit, to try and sketch a mechanism of the ‘favourite problem’ that can be explained without homophobia. When one talks of harmful favourites in English history, you think of James VI and I and of Edward II. Both of them were attracted to men and ‘favourited’ their romantic partners. You hear of this a lot more than you hear of female favourites destroying this or that government—why? Perhaps you can say the women just aren’t getting credit for their good work, but I think a simpler explanation is just that the maladaptive (for the governance of the realm) relationships between a King and a woman are less noticeable because women, even if the favourite of a King, were not permitted to enter the realm of government to such an extent. What made Carr and Villiers favourites, but Charles II’s Nell Gwyn and Moll Davis mere mistresses? That Charles could not, in any circumstance, make nobility of them, bring them into the privy council or other decision-making bodies, and could not afford to “disrespect” his nobility so as to treat the women as their equals, let alone superiors. To raise a lower-born (gentry, not labourer, of course) man to such a high station was already scandalous, but a woman? Inconceivable, sans those with royal blood. Thus even undoubtedly ambitious, cunning, and scheming women like Nell Gwyn could not accrue the prestige, power, and wealth (for patronage) to impact the court and to upset the balance of power within the government so much. Gwyn was no less a favourite than Carr, but she was cursed to limit herself to putting laxatives in her rival’s cakes rather than poisoning them and dominating governance. Sad!
One should not retrospectively condemn James’s reign because of what befell his son, Charles, ipso facto. In any case, one does not need to do so to recognise the structural defects he either inherited and failed to fix, inherited and worsened, or helped to create. He was brilliantly intelligent and thoughtful, but unable to overcome the difficult strictures he inherited from 1603, and lacked the political ability to match his intellectualism such that he was, ultimately, an unsuccessful king, if undoubtedly still an interesting and historically important one.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PS: I don't really get the choice of title. He wasn't a mirror of Great Britain, and the book doesn't try to do anything so playful, so I don't really get why it was chosen. Not a big deal, and I obviously haven't factored that tiniest of pet peeves into the actual rating.
The Mirror of Great Britain: A Life of King James VI and I (2025), by Clare Jackson, represents the most recent of an active trend of revisionist interpretations of James VI (of Scotland) and I (of England), the first Stuart King, who was King of Scotland from 1567, at just 13 months, and King of England and Ireland* from 1603 until his death in 1625.
The traditional historiography, lasting from the 1650s until the mid-20th Century (at a minimum, depicted James as a lascivious, foolish, head-in-the-clouds, failure of a king who, like the much-maligned Edward II, was obsessed with his favourites to the point of his kingdoms’ and kingship’s ruin. Of course, James’s sexuality played a prominent role in these assessments, for he was quite unambiguously attracted to men (though more likely bisexual than homosexual). This was known by his contemporaries and would be used to smear him or to paint use it as evidence of his lack of kingly qualities. The revisionist (and now widely accepted) opposition to this interpretation begun in the 21st Century, but has reached its maturity in the 2020s, with a number of public-facing and academic works (of which this book lays somewhere in between) showing more interest in James as a person, his sexuality in a not-so negative light, and, most importantly, the quality of his reign, particularly after 1603. Jackson’s book is part of this trend.
*Wales was not an administrative unit at this time, being annexed into the English Kingdom at this point. It would not regain a legal status until devolution in the 20th Century.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The book is organised thematically rather than chronologically, though there is a vague chronological shift from start to finish. As with many at least partially public-facing history books, Jackson commits one of my biggest pet peeves and uses fashionable, vague chapter titles rather ones that just clarify what the chapter is about. In any case, the themes covered are not always cleanly ring-fenced, but can be generalised as follows (in order):
Introduction; James’s love for writing; his birth and troubled early years in Scotland; his education and educators; his traumatic relationship to violence and his aversion towards it for most of his life; his poetry; his relationship with Mary (Queen of Scots, his mother) and Elizabeth (First, Queen of England), his ‘double first cousin’ and godmother; his marriage to Anna of Denmark; his views on witchcraft and daemonology; the texts he published as king; the relationship between England and Scotland under James; his health and sense of image; his obsessive love for hunting; his relationship (personal and political) to religion and political authority; the King James Bible; a separate religious chapter (they are different enough to merit the two chapters); Jacobean Ireland; his relationship to Parliament; his constant financial woes as King; his dynastic diplomacy; his relationship with his first favourite as King of Three Kingdoms, Robert Carr; his sense of jurisprudence; the early British colonies in Bermuda and Virginia; his most (in)famous favourite (and partner), George Villiers; James’s death.
Though every chapter is interesting, it felt a bit unbalanced as to how attention was distributed. For instance, I am unsure that poetry required an equal amount of space to James’s Parliaments. Similarly, the scope of the book felt a bit too ‘zoomed in’ at times, and, for instance, it feels hard to make a proper judgement of James without knowing how his rule looked outside of high politics. What was the economy like in this time? How did popular religion and politics change? What were the class relations of society and how did they change? Perhaps answering all of this would require a longer book, but it does feel that at least some level of more effective use of space would have helped.
That said, nothing felt redundant, and despite the relatively self-contained nature of the chapters, the author does not repeat herself, and every chapter was interesting and informative. Outside the introduction, it does not really engage with historiography (as you would expect when the book is at least partially trying to appeal to a popular audience), but that which is in the introduction sets the scene, purpose, and importance of her intervention perfectly well. I expect it will be a bit too academic in its tone and content for a lot of casual readers, but by academic standards it is well-written and engaging.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
What is the actual intervention being made, and what is the book’s thesis, if anything? It’s a bit unclear. Yes, it is a ‘riposte’ against the now discredited earlier and wholly negative interpretations of James’s rule, but Jackson is not necessarily a trailblazer here, and it is just one book among a large body of recent works on the first Stuart king. I cannot say I am familiar enough with the recent historiography to evaluate its novelty, but one can say that enough had already been written that a simple ‘reassessment’ on its own would not be original. You could say that Jackson’s revisionism is not to say that James was ‘good’ in any moral sense; she does not shy away from his more dire characteristics such as his intense misogyny (even by the standards of the time), dictatorialism, hypocrisy (between what he wrote and how he acted), and tendency to be wooed and enamoured, even outside of a romantic context, such as with the Spanish Ambassador, the Count of Gondomar. Rather, it is that he was very intelligent, that he was well-regarded by his contemporaries, and that he had an ideological sophistication and novelty (against the base absolutism the Stuarts are often associated with) past historians neglected.
On these counts, I think Jackson succeeds. It is undeniable, from the diverse sources and people Jackson draws from, that James was considered exceptionally intelligent and capable, even as a boy. He was said, by friend and foe alike, to be far ahead of his age in wisdom, maturity, and intellect, even considering his position and the natural sycophancy it attracts. Indeed, among those who praised him were not sycophants, and were even political opponents (such as his abusive and anti-absolutist tutor, George Buchanan). Though his contemporaries, especially when young, often saw him as a particularly manipulative and deceptive individual, even when used against him it included an admission of his ability. I won’t delve too much into James’s philosophy right now, but it suffices to say that, while he was ‘absolutist’ in a sense (I use the term colloquially), he was more complex than that, and he did, indeed, have some novel characteristics as a monarch, such as his desire to lift the veil of mysticism around government, and a compulsion to explain himself and justify himself to his subjects, to win them by word and not just gavel.
But intellect makes not a great ruler, and intellect is varied enough that it is a truism to say that, for instance, a great poet may not make a great political thinker, policy developer, or head of government.
Was James VI and I a good king on his own terms? Jackson is surprisingly and disappointingly quiet about this, and even in the final sentence of the book only goes as far as to call him ‘interesting’. It’s hard, in part because of the prioritisation decisions mentioned above, to glean too much of a conclusion from the book, but the initial indications, I would say, are…not particularly?
Those successes most clear from the book are from his reign in Scotland: he showed remarkable political cunning to extricate himself from his dismal situation as a child and he asserted kingly authority as it had not been for generations and secured the safety of his person and, even if he had not inherited the English throne, his progeny. He reined in the over-mighty nobility and significantly lowered (though did not end) their internecine violence, quarrelling, and duelling. Yet even here, he showed a bizarre lack of ruthlessness perhaps associated with his traumatic relationship with violence as above—the Earl of Bothwell was at his mercy several times, yet his inaction allowed Bothwell’s rebellions to continue incessantly, endangering the state’s and his own personal health.
In England, it seems he was less successful, especially at those issues he valued most of all. He failed to stabilise the royal finances or to establish a stronger or more stable basis for state spending, he failed to enact any sort of closer union between England and Scotland, the early colonial endeavours of his kingship were mostly failures, he failed to rein in the power of the English Parliament or to heighten the King’s powers institutionally, he failed to pacify Ireland such that it would break out in another serious rebellion after his death, he dithered and delayed to the point where he achieved not a great deal with his dynastic diplomacy, he failed to act with force or coherence amidst a catastrophic continental European scene, he failed to quell either the Catholic or Puritan religious trends, he (accidentally) fostered a toxic and dysfunctional court culture through his favouritism and inability to separate love from work, he failed to reform the inefficient, ultra-corrupt monopoly system of economic production. That said, he did oversee the embryonic development of the scientific method, but the extent to which that can actually be credited to him is debatable.
It’s worth discussing two things here that have been debated in the historiography, but not so much in this book. First, it is partially true that the lavish opulence of James wasn’t just from his own personality but was part of the process of government at the time, still being so heavily based on patronage in its most unpleasant form. Still, James actually did take it to an extreme, and damaged the royal finances far more than, say, Elizabeth had.
Second, it’s worth going back to the ‘favourites’ discussion a bit, to try and sketch a mechanism of the ‘favourite problem’ that can be explained without homophobia. When one talks of harmful favourites in English history, you think of James VI and I and of Edward II. Both of them were attracted to men and ‘favourited’ their romantic partners. You hear of this a lot more than you hear of female favourites destroying this or that government—why? Perhaps you can say the women just aren’t getting credit for their good work, but I think a simpler explanation is just that the maladaptive (for the governance of the realm) relationships between a King and a woman are less noticeable because women, even if the favourite of a King, were not permitted to enter the realm of government to such an extent. What made Carr and Villiers favourites, but Charles II’s Nell Gwyn and Moll Davis mere mistresses? That Charles could not, in any circumstance, make nobility of them, bring them into the privy council or other decision-making bodies, and could not afford to “disrespect” his nobility so as to treat the women as their equals, let alone superiors. To raise a lower-born (gentry, not labourer, of course) man to such a high station was already scandalous, but a woman? Inconceivable, sans those with royal blood. Thus even undoubtedly ambitious, cunning, and scheming women like Nell Gwyn could not accrue the prestige, power, and wealth (for patronage) to impact the court and to upset the balance of power within the government so much. Gwyn was no less a favourite than Carr, but she was cursed to limit herself to putting laxatives in her rival’s cakes rather than poisoning them and dominating governance. Sad!
One should not retrospectively condemn James’s reign because of what befell his son, Charles, ipso facto. In any case, one does not need to do so to recognise the structural defects he either inherited and failed to fix, inherited and worsened, or helped to create. He was brilliantly intelligent and thoughtful, but unable to overcome the difficult strictures he inherited from 1603, and lacked the political ability to match his intellectualism such that he was, ultimately, an unsuccessful king, if undoubtedly still an interesting and historically important one.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PS: I don't really get the choice of title. He wasn't a mirror of Great Britain, and the book doesn't try to do anything so playful, so I don't really get why it was chosen. Not a big deal, and I obviously haven't factored that tiniest of pet peeves into the actual rating.
November 3, 2025
From my limited knowledge of James VI/I, I know that he is often maligned in ways. He's a peculiar person, and his sexual persuasion most definitely caused his contemporaries to show him in an unfavorable light. However, Jackson's work does a lot to show a lot of the intricacies of his life, as well as some of the more fascinating aspects of his rule. I was not fully aware of how strong the witch-hunting mania was in places like Scotland, and I understand now that James had a lot of impact and influence on these occurrences. Not only that, but he had a lot of influence through his writings- poetry, the sponsorship of the King James bible, and his letters to Elizabeth.
I think what made this read a bit of a slog for me was how the timelines jump constantly, either within the chapter or between them. There is not a lot of linearity, at least at first, and this was not a stylistic choice that I enjoyed. I would have greatly benefited from having some previous knowledge of James and his reign; therefore, the non-linear approach just caused a bit of confusion. This biography does a great job shining light into a lot of the corners that a more rigid, classically written biography would not. I think any reader who wants to deep dive into James' story would find this to be an excellent companion read to a more traditional biography. In fact, I could see how this will be an excellent resource for those wanting a little more expansion upon certain aspects of his life that perhaps you may not find in other works.
I appreciate being allowed to review this work. I value the time and effort Jackson spent compiling such a rich, well-researched biography of James. Unfortunately, it was a bit too dry and not stylistically a book I enjoyed. However, that does not take away from the importance of this work. It would be a great addition to Stuart history lovers' shelves and will most certainly aid anyone in a further understanding of his life and accomplishments. It works to erase the erroneous and questionable criticisms and portrayals.
Thank you to Netgalley and W.W. Norton & Company for an ARC of this work in exchange for my honest opinion.
I think what made this read a bit of a slog for me was how the timelines jump constantly, either within the chapter or between them. There is not a lot of linearity, at least at first, and this was not a stylistic choice that I enjoyed. I would have greatly benefited from having some previous knowledge of James and his reign; therefore, the non-linear approach just caused a bit of confusion. This biography does a great job shining light into a lot of the corners that a more rigid, classically written biography would not. I think any reader who wants to deep dive into James' story would find this to be an excellent companion read to a more traditional biography. In fact, I could see how this will be an excellent resource for those wanting a little more expansion upon certain aspects of his life that perhaps you may not find in other works.
I appreciate being allowed to review this work. I value the time and effort Jackson spent compiling such a rich, well-researched biography of James. Unfortunately, it was a bit too dry and not stylistically a book I enjoyed. However, that does not take away from the importance of this work. It would be a great addition to Stuart history lovers' shelves and will most certainly aid anyone in a further understanding of his life and accomplishments. It works to erase the erroneous and questionable criticisms and portrayals.
Thank you to Netgalley and W.W. Norton & Company for an ARC of this work in exchange for my honest opinion.
August 22, 2025
The most comprehensive book I've ever read about King James VI and I. This author has clearly done her homework and you need look no more to find a book that will tell you everything you want to know about this remarkable King. Even if you believe that you know all about him I promise you that you will learn more. Presented in an interesting way - nothing dry about this one! Thanks to Netgalley, the author and publishers for an advanced copy in exchange for my honest opinion.
October 3, 2025
A QUASI-MASTERPIECE.
Clare Jackson’s well researched, concise, and interesting biography of James is the best of the collection published in the light of the 400th anniversary of his death.
Jackson’s connection to the actual Mirror of Great Britain jewel, famous throughout the portraiture of James following his English accession in 1603 is ingenious to begin with. The introduction in particular casts this project within the context of cross-confessional early modern debates on jewellery and apparel with regard to worship. From there, it does suffer somewhat. The connection becomes loose and feels rather flat, only really being referred back to in the book’s final paragraph.
Yet, this does not detract from the book’s magisterial quality. Jackson presents a usual narrative of James’s reign through unconventional and largely successful thematic chapters which follow a broadly chronological order. Various unusual details are provided throughout the book which makes the reading experience vivid in terms of immersion in the period. This is an extraordinary feat in a scholarly biography and one for which Jackson should be applauded.
Also laudable is the book’s historiographical significance. Jackson embodies, combines, and refines the recent and rightful shift to a positive view of James in the scholarship. I had wondered what exactly she had been contributing, thinking it resembled too many recent works on James. However, I underestimated her in then remembering that this had not previously been executed through biography. Jackson provides a welcome refinement and re-evaluation that respects and improves upon the works of S.J. Houston and Christopher Durston.
Ultimately, the final product is a masterful, though not entirely perfect, biography of a much ignored and overly reviled king. This should, and I sincerely hope, become essential reading for any student, scholar, or casual enthusiast of Jacobean Britain and the King who made it so extraordinary.
Clare Jackson’s well researched, concise, and interesting biography of James is the best of the collection published in the light of the 400th anniversary of his death.
Jackson’s connection to the actual Mirror of Great Britain jewel, famous throughout the portraiture of James following his English accession in 1603 is ingenious to begin with. The introduction in particular casts this project within the context of cross-confessional early modern debates on jewellery and apparel with regard to worship. From there, it does suffer somewhat. The connection becomes loose and feels rather flat, only really being referred back to in the book’s final paragraph.
Yet, this does not detract from the book’s magisterial quality. Jackson presents a usual narrative of James’s reign through unconventional and largely successful thematic chapters which follow a broadly chronological order. Various unusual details are provided throughout the book which makes the reading experience vivid in terms of immersion in the period. This is an extraordinary feat in a scholarly biography and one for which Jackson should be applauded.
Also laudable is the book’s historiographical significance. Jackson embodies, combines, and refines the recent and rightful shift to a positive view of James in the scholarship. I had wondered what exactly she had been contributing, thinking it resembled too many recent works on James. However, I underestimated her in then remembering that this had not previously been executed through biography. Jackson provides a welcome refinement and re-evaluation that respects and improves upon the works of S.J. Houston and Christopher Durston.
Ultimately, the final product is a masterful, though not entirely perfect, biography of a much ignored and overly reviled king. This should, and I sincerely hope, become essential reading for any student, scholar, or casual enthusiast of Jacobean Britain and the King who made it so extraordinary.
January 6, 2026
An exhaustively comprehensive overview of the topics and issues of the age, but one which failed to engage me much personally.
It is completely well researched and covers all the bases of the social, cultural, political, and economic concerns, but it also proceeds by topic and not by chronological linear order. So, if you are expecting a cradle to grave overview of the monarch, that is not the main concern here. That would have helped to ground the narrative as it usually does with a biography. We get his upbringing early on, we necessarily get the family issues eventually, and at the end, we get the essential account of his health decline and death. We don't get much else than that nor do we really get a sense of James as a person. Okay, that's not a dealbreaker. Ultimately, what James did as a monarch is his true legacy. However, there is a reason he is mainly known for the failed Gunpowder plot. It is probably the most exciting story of his reign. The foundation of the American colonies is too far and remote to be exciting, and at the end of his reign, nor are the various political entanglements.
I'm not saying that it's a bad book; not by any means. I usually find some grappling lines to keep hauling me along with the narrative and yet I personally felt like I was reading a detailed history account of 22 years complete with hundreds of proper names, most of which register briefly if at all. It doesn't help that other than the 5th of November, very little rebellion, war, or intrigue was present. That which was, was very muted and low on the scale of interest. I've read two highly acclaimed books on James I now, and perhaps it's just me. His reign doesn't seem to be especially exciting - good for his people, I suppose. Not so much for a gripping read.
It is completely well researched and covers all the bases of the social, cultural, political, and economic concerns, but it also proceeds by topic and not by chronological linear order. So, if you are expecting a cradle to grave overview of the monarch, that is not the main concern here. That would have helped to ground the narrative as it usually does with a biography. We get his upbringing early on, we necessarily get the family issues eventually, and at the end, we get the essential account of his health decline and death. We don't get much else than that nor do we really get a sense of James as a person. Okay, that's not a dealbreaker. Ultimately, what James did as a monarch is his true legacy. However, there is a reason he is mainly known for the failed Gunpowder plot. It is probably the most exciting story of his reign. The foundation of the American colonies is too far and remote to be exciting, and at the end of his reign, nor are the various political entanglements.
I'm not saying that it's a bad book; not by any means. I usually find some grappling lines to keep hauling me along with the narrative and yet I personally felt like I was reading a detailed history account of 22 years complete with hundreds of proper names, most of which register briefly if at all. It doesn't help that other than the 5th of November, very little rebellion, war, or intrigue was present. That which was, was very muted and low on the scale of interest. I've read two highly acclaimed books on James I now, and perhaps it's just me. His reign doesn't seem to be especially exciting - good for his people, I suppose. Not so much for a gripping read.
September 16, 2025
The Mirror of Great Britain: A Life of King James VI and I by Clare Jackson is an excellent biography of the “First King of Great Britain”.
This is the most extensive, thorough, engaging, and fascinating biography I have ever encountered that is about King James VI and I.
Ms. Jackson has created a wonderful experience for any reader that is interested in Tudor history. I definitely learned more about this monarch than I thought possible, and yet it flew by because it was presented in such a way that I couldn’t wait to read the next chapter.
Thoroughly researched, the author passes on her passion, knowledge, and enthusiasm to the reader.
I really enjoyed this one.
5/5 stars
Thank you NG and W. W. Norton & Company | Liveright for this wonderful arc and in return I am submitting my unbiased and voluntary review and opinion.
I am posting this review to my GR and Bookbub accounts immediately and will post it to my Amazon, Instagram, and B&N accounts upon publication on 11/11/25.
This is the most extensive, thorough, engaging, and fascinating biography I have ever encountered that is about King James VI and I.
Ms. Jackson has created a wonderful experience for any reader that is interested in Tudor history. I definitely learned more about this monarch than I thought possible, and yet it flew by because it was presented in such a way that I couldn’t wait to read the next chapter.
Thoroughly researched, the author passes on her passion, knowledge, and enthusiasm to the reader.
I really enjoyed this one.
5/5 stars
Thank you NG and W. W. Norton & Company | Liveright for this wonderful arc and in return I am submitting my unbiased and voluntary review and opinion.
I am posting this review to my GR and Bookbub accounts immediately and will post it to my Amazon, Instagram, and B&N accounts upon publication on 11/11/25.
September 15, 2025
Clare Jackson provides the reader with a comprehensive look at King James VI and I with a biography approached by topics essential to understanding the king. This approach is different than most linear biographies, recounting the subject from birth to death. This does also mean certain events are repeatedly covered, which can slow the pace but does provide insights on impact on different aspects of his life. I had not read anything on James VI and I prior to this work nor on this part of British history. This book was enjoyable and provided great insights on the subject and history of the time..
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