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The Raven King: Matthias Corvinus and the Fate of his Lost Library
Seizing the Hungarian throne at the age of fifteen, Matthias Corvinus, the "Raven King,” was an effervescent presence on the fifteenth-century stage. A successful warrior and munificent art patron, he sought to leave as symbols of his strategic and humanist ambitions a strong, unified country, splendid palaces, and the most magnificent library in Christendom. But Hungary, invaded by Turkey after Matthias's death in 1490, yielded its treasures, and the Raven King’s exquisite library of two thousand volumes, witness to a golden cultural age, was dispersed first across Europe and then the world.
The quest to recover this collection of sumptuously illuminated scripts provoked and tantalized generations of princes, cardinals, collectors, and scholars and imbued Hungarians with the mythical conviction that the restoration of the lost library would seal their country's rebirth. In this thrilling and absorbing account, drawing on a wealth of original sources in several languages, Marcus Tanner tracks the destiny of the Raven King and his magnificent bequest, uncovering the remarkable story of a life and library almost lost to history.
The quest to recover this collection of sumptuously illuminated scripts provoked and tantalized generations of princes, cardinals, collectors, and scholars and imbued Hungarians with the mythical conviction that the restoration of the lost library would seal their country's rebirth. In this thrilling and absorbing account, drawing on a wealth of original sources in several languages, Marcus Tanner tracks the destiny of the Raven King and his magnificent bequest, uncovering the remarkable story of a life and library almost lost to history.
288 pages, Hardcover
First published July 1, 2008
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November 7, 2012
Marcus Tanner’s The Raven King: Matthias Corvinus and the Fate of his Lost Library seeks to delineate the rapid creation and destruction of the library of Matthias Hunyadi. The book delves into the life of the Hungarian king, Matthias; the broader implications of the Hungarian Renaissance that Matthias began; and the politics surrounding Hungary and Matthias’s library, even into the twenty-first century. In the process, Tanner paints a colorful picture of sixteenth century life in Hungary and the rest of Europe. He presents most of his facts in anecdotal forms that are easily accessible to readers. Unfortunately, however, the tales that make Tanner’s book easy to read also decrease the book’s value. Because Tanner focuses on capturing readers’ interest, he easily loses sight of his broader topics and themes.
In the preface and the first three chapters of The Raven King, Tanner argues that, although Matthias made concerted efforts to introduce the Italian Renaissance into his court, he did not create a means to maintain it after his death. He rebuilt his palace in the first five years of his reign as king, inviting a flood of artists and engineers from Italy (14). He corresponded with scholars and humanists in Italy as early as the 1470s invited them to stay at his castle.
To build a library in a mere five years was an incredible—and expensive—feat. The cost of the physical library alone must have been tremendous, thanks to elaborate structures (2). Collecting the books was probably an equal expense, although we know little about the number of books Matthias owned. In the last five years of his reign, Matthias sent out Janus Panonnius to buy books in Italy. He bought books and ordered new copies in large quantities (35). The act of shipping these books was an investment in time and money as well, as the road to Hungary was long and dangerous (10, 11).
Nearly everything Matthias created died with him. He left a power struggle between leaders, which fostered discontent about Matthias’s rule. Many nobles argued that too many foreigners—including Matthias—had been allowed into the courts. Popular opinion of Beatrice fell, stirring up even more resentment against the throne, and many of Matthias’s supporters turned their attentions to other political powers (13-14). Ultimately, the void Matthias left led to Hungary’s downfall by inviting political chaos and tempting another Ottoman invasion (14).
In chapters four through eight, Tanner delves into the lives of the Archbishop Vitez, Panonnius, Beatrice, and Taddeo Ugoleto, among others. He examines their roles in context of the times and their usefulness to the king. Specifically, he addresses the king’s pet projects, like universities, his library, and military conquests over cities like Vienna. Tanner dealt briefly with the decline of Archbishop Vitez and his nephew, Panonnius, in the Hunyadi court. Panonnius, the book buyer for the king, fell into disfavor that may have stemmed primarily from his unhappiness at residing in a “barbaric” court (68).
Vitez had been a friend and councilor to Matthias’s father and had considerable influence over young Matthias (31). However, as Matthias grew into his kingship, his respect for Vitez declined (65). Tanner never supplies a satisfactory reason. After the death of his main ally, Pope Pius II, Vitez became a pawn; he was made to crown Matthias as King of Bohemia in 1469, a move he resented (66). Tanner also reports an undocumented argument that ended in Matthias assaulting the Archbishop (67). He does not supply any evidence when he initially presents it; then, he fantasizes about the event even further. His lack of support is frustrating.
Taddeo Ugoleto, after whom the seventh chapter is named, was crucial to the success of Matthias’s library. In the 1480s, he replaced Panonnius as the king’s main buyer of books abroad (112). Ugoleto was given the tasks of buying books and paying copiers and proofreaders for the task of copying new volumes (113). Notably, he salvaged a few ancient books from a broke banker named Sassetti (114).
The fifth chapter is dedicated to Matthias’s wife and her influence on the Hungarian court. Beatrice, during her marriage, surrounded herself with intelligent Italians, humanists, and musicians. She helped expand the influence and presence of Italian music in the court, ordering organs and inviting Italian players to stay in Hungary (85, 86). She supported Matthias’s military campaigns, including the conquering of Vienna, during which she made a triumphant ride through the city (98, 105). Furthermore, her influence significantly increased the size of Matthias’s library by inviting so many Italian scholars. These learned men were able to create succinct lists of works that would be crucial to the development of Matthias’s library (107).
Unfortunately, Beatrice’s role in court is unfairly represented. Often, Tanner marginalizes or neglects her beneficial influence. After listing her accomplishments in the court, for instance, Tanner writes her off with a series of demeaning descriptions, the least of which is “actressy, spendthrift chatterbox” (89). Other sections of the chapter “Beatrice” are dedicated to unflattering, unfounded speculations: Beatrice “salivating at the prospect of money”; Beatrice, “now 17 and at the height of her brief beauty”; Beatrice, “a foot-stamping, selfish and very materialistic adult” (88, 85). The kinder truths of her influence are sparingly mentioned; Tanner is quick to falsely attribute poor qualities to Beatrice and then criticize her for them.
Later chapters treat Beatrice even more harshly. In “Collapse,” which attempts to examine the aftermath of Matthias’s death, Beatrice is displayed as a jealous and conniving step-mother: “after a brief, false embrace [with John] at Matthias’s sickbed, [she] soon reverted to her default position of hostility” (144). Soon after, she is repainted as an old hag who repeatedly throws herself at Wladislas, the Polish king, to become his lover (144, 145). Tanner blames her poor character and even takes the liberty of insulting her appearance: “an almost middle-aged, childless, ex-queen...with the kind of unflattering profile that Duknovic had recorded” (144). In these passages, he does not give any sources to support his unflattering representation of Beatrice. The poor personality with which she is portrayed appears to be invented by the author.
In the final four chapters, Tanner examines the fates of Hungary and Matthias’s library over the next several hundred years. Tanner expounds upon the history of the Ottomans from their successful invasion of Hungary in 1526 through the World Wars, in which a few of the remaining Corvinus books were used as bargaining chips for power and land. Although the influence of the library on Hungarian politics is interesting, it is bogged down by random facts. The fascinating and complex journeys of specific Corvinus books across Europe are scattered in between biographies of characters whose life stories often require several pages to tell. Luigi Marsigli’s is perhaps the most relevant of these; he is famous, it seems, for failing to find the library (187, 188). However, most of the text dedicated to him and others only obscure important information: “the experience of being chained to a post...increased his loathing of the Ottomans though it made him a great fan of coffee” (185).
In the tenth chapter, Tanner further examines the library as a myth. In the few hundred years following the Ottoman invasion, misquoted texts and exaggerated figures literally created the legend that would surround Matthias’s library for centuries. A mere hundred years after Matthias’s death, people claimed his library contained tens of thousands of books (168). German humanist scholars were among those who helped “build up the growing cult of Matthias and of the library” in the late 1500s (171). However, Corvinus copies procured in the late 1600s were far from the glamorous objects that myths had claimed they would be; they were cheap and ill copied (168).
One of the many troubles of this book is Tanner’s lack of organization. Most of the book is, in fact, a jumbled biography of the king and an exploration of Europe during his reign, not a history of the library itself. In the last three chapters, Tanner does an excellent job uncovering the dissolution of the library as noblemen, soldiers, and war dispersed the books. Unfortunately, as previously mentioned, those chapters serve more as a brief history of the world, expounding upon the lives of the people who allegedly procured the famous books. The references to the books themselves are so scattered among unnecessary materials that the chapters are unsuccessful in representing their fate.
Furthermore, Tanner does not appear to have solid theses for either the book or its individual chapters, and his organization suffers heavily because of it. Few chapters, if any, have major themes; as a result, the information he gives, while often fascinating, appears to be unnecessary. The third chapter exemplifies this trend. It begins with a description of modern Florence (33) before addressing young Pannonius (35). It delves into the process of making, copying, and illuminating books. Tanner then examines the educational systems under which Pannonius was trained. He proceeds to quote, in English, some of Pannonius’s homosexual writings, providing no source for the translation or the original text (46). Finally, Tanner makes extensive observations about Matthias’s military campaigns before Pannonius came to court. His rambling style only harms his unarticulated argument.
Tanner gives sporadic attention to unnecessary details. For instance, in the third chapter, Tanner goes into extensive detail about the production, cost, and demand of illustrated books. He then admits that illustrated books were neither relevant to the topic within that chapter—Matthias’s book buyer, Pannonius—nor to the book itself, as illustrated books only came into fashion after his death (38-41). Other details, such as Marsigli’s interest in coffee or the ugliness of various busts of Beatrice, serve no observable purpose (187, 77). At best, they reduce the complexity of the historical figures into character types, adding intrigue to a story where none existed.
Tanner frequently forces speculation and unfounded interpretations of events onto the sparse facts he offers. The fifth chapter is an excellent example. Tanner indulges in highly speculative musings about Beatrice’s intimate thoughts: claims that, before her marriage, Beatrice was “salivating at the prospect of the money” she would receive, or that her sister’s extravagant wedding “turned Beatrice’s head”, are sensational and unfounded (88, 86). In another instance, Tanner pretends that the king’s nephew, Ippolito d’Este, stood next to Matthias’s deathbed, his face “twisted into a grimace because for once he was not in the center of events” (13). The claim that d’Este was present is idle speculation and is reminiscent of the chapters on Beatrice. The author clearly dehumanizes these characters, perhaps to dramatize his dry facts.
In short, Marcus Tanner presents skewed and unorganized information that cannot successfully represent Matthias Corvinus, his court, or his library. Although the details he uncovered about the lost books are impressive, they are buried beneath unnecessary information. Similarly, the information about Matthias and his court is so disorganized that it is difficult to find, let alone interpret. Furthermore, the author severely and purposefully misrepresents the people of Hungarian court to dramatize Matthias’s life and Hungarian history. Tanner also failed to present a valid thesis for his work or to defend it with relevant and accurate information. His work is too vague and muddled to be of use for even the casual scholar.
In the preface and the first three chapters of The Raven King, Tanner argues that, although Matthias made concerted efforts to introduce the Italian Renaissance into his court, he did not create a means to maintain it after his death. He rebuilt his palace in the first five years of his reign as king, inviting a flood of artists and engineers from Italy (14). He corresponded with scholars and humanists in Italy as early as the 1470s invited them to stay at his castle.
To build a library in a mere five years was an incredible—and expensive—feat. The cost of the physical library alone must have been tremendous, thanks to elaborate structures (2). Collecting the books was probably an equal expense, although we know little about the number of books Matthias owned. In the last five years of his reign, Matthias sent out Janus Panonnius to buy books in Italy. He bought books and ordered new copies in large quantities (35). The act of shipping these books was an investment in time and money as well, as the road to Hungary was long and dangerous (10, 11).
Nearly everything Matthias created died with him. He left a power struggle between leaders, which fostered discontent about Matthias’s rule. Many nobles argued that too many foreigners—including Matthias—had been allowed into the courts. Popular opinion of Beatrice fell, stirring up even more resentment against the throne, and many of Matthias’s supporters turned their attentions to other political powers (13-14). Ultimately, the void Matthias left led to Hungary’s downfall by inviting political chaos and tempting another Ottoman invasion (14).
In chapters four through eight, Tanner delves into the lives of the Archbishop Vitez, Panonnius, Beatrice, and Taddeo Ugoleto, among others. He examines their roles in context of the times and their usefulness to the king. Specifically, he addresses the king’s pet projects, like universities, his library, and military conquests over cities like Vienna. Tanner dealt briefly with the decline of Archbishop Vitez and his nephew, Panonnius, in the Hunyadi court. Panonnius, the book buyer for the king, fell into disfavor that may have stemmed primarily from his unhappiness at residing in a “barbaric” court (68).
Vitez had been a friend and councilor to Matthias’s father and had considerable influence over young Matthias (31). However, as Matthias grew into his kingship, his respect for Vitez declined (65). Tanner never supplies a satisfactory reason. After the death of his main ally, Pope Pius II, Vitez became a pawn; he was made to crown Matthias as King of Bohemia in 1469, a move he resented (66). Tanner also reports an undocumented argument that ended in Matthias assaulting the Archbishop (67). He does not supply any evidence when he initially presents it; then, he fantasizes about the event even further. His lack of support is frustrating.
Taddeo Ugoleto, after whom the seventh chapter is named, was crucial to the success of Matthias’s library. In the 1480s, he replaced Panonnius as the king’s main buyer of books abroad (112). Ugoleto was given the tasks of buying books and paying copiers and proofreaders for the task of copying new volumes (113). Notably, he salvaged a few ancient books from a broke banker named Sassetti (114).
The fifth chapter is dedicated to Matthias’s wife and her influence on the Hungarian court. Beatrice, during her marriage, surrounded herself with intelligent Italians, humanists, and musicians. She helped expand the influence and presence of Italian music in the court, ordering organs and inviting Italian players to stay in Hungary (85, 86). She supported Matthias’s military campaigns, including the conquering of Vienna, during which she made a triumphant ride through the city (98, 105). Furthermore, her influence significantly increased the size of Matthias’s library by inviting so many Italian scholars. These learned men were able to create succinct lists of works that would be crucial to the development of Matthias’s library (107).
Unfortunately, Beatrice’s role in court is unfairly represented. Often, Tanner marginalizes or neglects her beneficial influence. After listing her accomplishments in the court, for instance, Tanner writes her off with a series of demeaning descriptions, the least of which is “actressy, spendthrift chatterbox” (89). Other sections of the chapter “Beatrice” are dedicated to unflattering, unfounded speculations: Beatrice “salivating at the prospect of money”; Beatrice, “now 17 and at the height of her brief beauty”; Beatrice, “a foot-stamping, selfish and very materialistic adult” (88, 85). The kinder truths of her influence are sparingly mentioned; Tanner is quick to falsely attribute poor qualities to Beatrice and then criticize her for them.
Later chapters treat Beatrice even more harshly. In “Collapse,” which attempts to examine the aftermath of Matthias’s death, Beatrice is displayed as a jealous and conniving step-mother: “after a brief, false embrace [with John] at Matthias’s sickbed, [she] soon reverted to her default position of hostility” (144). Soon after, she is repainted as an old hag who repeatedly throws herself at Wladislas, the Polish king, to become his lover (144, 145). Tanner blames her poor character and even takes the liberty of insulting her appearance: “an almost middle-aged, childless, ex-queen...with the kind of unflattering profile that Duknovic had recorded” (144). In these passages, he does not give any sources to support his unflattering representation of Beatrice. The poor personality with which she is portrayed appears to be invented by the author.
In the final four chapters, Tanner examines the fates of Hungary and Matthias’s library over the next several hundred years. Tanner expounds upon the history of the Ottomans from their successful invasion of Hungary in 1526 through the World Wars, in which a few of the remaining Corvinus books were used as bargaining chips for power and land. Although the influence of the library on Hungarian politics is interesting, it is bogged down by random facts. The fascinating and complex journeys of specific Corvinus books across Europe are scattered in between biographies of characters whose life stories often require several pages to tell. Luigi Marsigli’s is perhaps the most relevant of these; he is famous, it seems, for failing to find the library (187, 188). However, most of the text dedicated to him and others only obscure important information: “the experience of being chained to a post...increased his loathing of the Ottomans though it made him a great fan of coffee” (185).
In the tenth chapter, Tanner further examines the library as a myth. In the few hundred years following the Ottoman invasion, misquoted texts and exaggerated figures literally created the legend that would surround Matthias’s library for centuries. A mere hundred years after Matthias’s death, people claimed his library contained tens of thousands of books (168). German humanist scholars were among those who helped “build up the growing cult of Matthias and of the library” in the late 1500s (171). However, Corvinus copies procured in the late 1600s were far from the glamorous objects that myths had claimed they would be; they were cheap and ill copied (168).
One of the many troubles of this book is Tanner’s lack of organization. Most of the book is, in fact, a jumbled biography of the king and an exploration of Europe during his reign, not a history of the library itself. In the last three chapters, Tanner does an excellent job uncovering the dissolution of the library as noblemen, soldiers, and war dispersed the books. Unfortunately, as previously mentioned, those chapters serve more as a brief history of the world, expounding upon the lives of the people who allegedly procured the famous books. The references to the books themselves are so scattered among unnecessary materials that the chapters are unsuccessful in representing their fate.
Furthermore, Tanner does not appear to have solid theses for either the book or its individual chapters, and his organization suffers heavily because of it. Few chapters, if any, have major themes; as a result, the information he gives, while often fascinating, appears to be unnecessary. The third chapter exemplifies this trend. It begins with a description of modern Florence (33) before addressing young Pannonius (35). It delves into the process of making, copying, and illuminating books. Tanner then examines the educational systems under which Pannonius was trained. He proceeds to quote, in English, some of Pannonius’s homosexual writings, providing no source for the translation or the original text (46). Finally, Tanner makes extensive observations about Matthias’s military campaigns before Pannonius came to court. His rambling style only harms his unarticulated argument.
Tanner gives sporadic attention to unnecessary details. For instance, in the third chapter, Tanner goes into extensive detail about the production, cost, and demand of illustrated books. He then admits that illustrated books were neither relevant to the topic within that chapter—Matthias’s book buyer, Pannonius—nor to the book itself, as illustrated books only came into fashion after his death (38-41). Other details, such as Marsigli’s interest in coffee or the ugliness of various busts of Beatrice, serve no observable purpose (187, 77). At best, they reduce the complexity of the historical figures into character types, adding intrigue to a story where none existed.
Tanner frequently forces speculation and unfounded interpretations of events onto the sparse facts he offers. The fifth chapter is an excellent example. Tanner indulges in highly speculative musings about Beatrice’s intimate thoughts: claims that, before her marriage, Beatrice was “salivating at the prospect of the money” she would receive, or that her sister’s extravagant wedding “turned Beatrice’s head”, are sensational and unfounded (88, 86). In another instance, Tanner pretends that the king’s nephew, Ippolito d’Este, stood next to Matthias’s deathbed, his face “twisted into a grimace because for once he was not in the center of events” (13). The claim that d’Este was present is idle speculation and is reminiscent of the chapters on Beatrice. The author clearly dehumanizes these characters, perhaps to dramatize his dry facts.
In short, Marcus Tanner presents skewed and unorganized information that cannot successfully represent Matthias Corvinus, his court, or his library. Although the details he uncovered about the lost books are impressive, they are buried beneath unnecessary information. Similarly, the information about Matthias and his court is so disorganized that it is difficult to find, let alone interpret. Furthermore, the author severely and purposefully misrepresents the people of Hungarian court to dramatize Matthias’s life and Hungarian history. Tanner also failed to present a valid thesis for his work or to defend it with relevant and accurate information. His work is too vague and muddled to be of use for even the casual scholar.
July 23, 2022
This book was vastly more useful than I expected. It leapt off the shelf at me because of its promise of literary adventuring, but it ended up filling a really important gap in my understanding of European history. How was it that Mehmed the Conqueror could rampage through the Byzantine Empire in 1453, and then make it all the way to Italy, but then find himself stymied in Central Europe by the same Hungarians that his descendant Suleiman the Magnificent dispatched so easily in the 1520s? And why is it that the Habsburg monarchy that was so busy taking over the world couldn't do much about this Ottoman invasion? Well, the answer to both questions is the the Hunyadi dynasty, and their one King of Hungary, Matthias Corvinus.
This book does a great job of laying out just how tenuous and backstabby all of the relationships between European powers in the 1400s were. I've long been aware of the French partnership with the Ottomans they were supposed to be crusading against. But I didn't get the full picture of how screwed up things were between Austria and Hungary until I read this book. Mehmed the Conqueror, fresh off extinguishing the 1000 year old Eastern Roman Empire, was stopped at Belgrade in 1456, by John Hunyadi, a Transylvanian noble who died in the effort. After a great deal of sordid controversy & some murder, his son Matthias ended up on the Hungarian throne. Matthias became a legendary king, who did build Hungary into a bulwark against Ottoman invasion for three quarters of a century, but this book lays out that his legacy is a lot more complicated than that.
Francis Fukuyama has recently pushed the fall of Hungary back into public consciousness a bit, so much so that it became the main topic of a popular video from the YouTuber Kraut, published last week. Hungary is positioned as a cautionary tale about too much freedom. The nobles of Hungary were too greedy to allow great kings like Matthias maintain the armies needed to fight against the Ottomans, so Hungary fell. I think this narrative is largely true, but it leaves out the fact that Matthias didn't actually fight the Ottomans much. In fact, he was much more likely to use his celebrated "Black Army" against Austria and Bohemia (Now Czechia, more or less), and spent his decades in power subjugating Christians, not Muslims.
These historical details of the half century between 1450 and 1500 really aid understanding of the period from 1500-1550, seen by many as the birth of modern Europe. The Habsburg titan Charles V, who ruled Spain, The Netherlands, Germany, and growing areas in the Americas and Asia really did come out of nowhere. Today we're accustomed to great powers that build over time, but that wasn't the case with the Habsburg empire. A few scant decades before Charles V's attempt at universal empire, his forebears were fleeing a successful Hungarian siege of Vienna. From 1500 until 1914 the Habsburgs kept more or less comfortable control over Bohemia, Austria and significant slices of Hungary and Germany. I had not appreciated the extent to which that had not been true before 1500. This explains both the fluidity and strange obstacles that the Ottomans faced when they were conquering Europe. In the Middle Ages, everything really was up for grabs. A powerful noble family could stop a sultan. And Charles V's endless Habsburg empire was built on too shoddy a foundation to stop a different sultan in the next century.
Books? Was this a book about books? Yes. That's how it was advertised. And the passages on cultural life were very helpful in illustrating the interactions between Renaissance Italy, and Matthias who often seemed to operate as a one-man Hungarian Renaissance. What we know about Matthias's legendary library is laid out in detail, along with the fates of its many dispersed volumes. In Tanner's book, the political and cultural history alternate with each other, with dense geopolitics alternating with pages on the education and inclinations of one humanist writer or another. I found it a bit jarring at times, as if two books were stitched together. Both books were well worth reading. I'm not entirely sure they should have been between the same covers.
This book does a great job of laying out just how tenuous and backstabby all of the relationships between European powers in the 1400s were. I've long been aware of the French partnership with the Ottomans they were supposed to be crusading against. But I didn't get the full picture of how screwed up things were between Austria and Hungary until I read this book. Mehmed the Conqueror, fresh off extinguishing the 1000 year old Eastern Roman Empire, was stopped at Belgrade in 1456, by John Hunyadi, a Transylvanian noble who died in the effort. After a great deal of sordid controversy & some murder, his son Matthias ended up on the Hungarian throne. Matthias became a legendary king, who did build Hungary into a bulwark against Ottoman invasion for three quarters of a century, but this book lays out that his legacy is a lot more complicated than that.
Francis Fukuyama has recently pushed the fall of Hungary back into public consciousness a bit, so much so that it became the main topic of a popular video from the YouTuber Kraut, published last week. Hungary is positioned as a cautionary tale about too much freedom. The nobles of Hungary were too greedy to allow great kings like Matthias maintain the armies needed to fight against the Ottomans, so Hungary fell. I think this narrative is largely true, but it leaves out the fact that Matthias didn't actually fight the Ottomans much. In fact, he was much more likely to use his celebrated "Black Army" against Austria and Bohemia (Now Czechia, more or less), and spent his decades in power subjugating Christians, not Muslims.
These historical details of the half century between 1450 and 1500 really aid understanding of the period from 1500-1550, seen by many as the birth of modern Europe. The Habsburg titan Charles V, who ruled Spain, The Netherlands, Germany, and growing areas in the Americas and Asia really did come out of nowhere. Today we're accustomed to great powers that build over time, but that wasn't the case with the Habsburg empire. A few scant decades before Charles V's attempt at universal empire, his forebears were fleeing a successful Hungarian siege of Vienna. From 1500 until 1914 the Habsburgs kept more or less comfortable control over Bohemia, Austria and significant slices of Hungary and Germany. I had not appreciated the extent to which that had not been true before 1500. This explains both the fluidity and strange obstacles that the Ottomans faced when they were conquering Europe. In the Middle Ages, everything really was up for grabs. A powerful noble family could stop a sultan. And Charles V's endless Habsburg empire was built on too shoddy a foundation to stop a different sultan in the next century.
Books? Was this a book about books? Yes. That's how it was advertised. And the passages on cultural life were very helpful in illustrating the interactions between Renaissance Italy, and Matthias who often seemed to operate as a one-man Hungarian Renaissance. What we know about Matthias's legendary library is laid out in detail, along with the fates of its many dispersed volumes. In Tanner's book, the political and cultural history alternate with each other, with dense geopolitics alternating with pages on the education and inclinations of one humanist writer or another. I found it a bit jarring at times, as if two books were stitched together. Both books were well worth reading. I'm not entirely sure they should have been between the same covers.
June 4, 2019
In potentie een interessanter boek dan het uiteindelijk was: Hongarije, middeleeuwen, boekgeschiedenis, grote ondernemingen en een onvermijdelijke tragedie. Het kwam toch niet allemaal helemaal uit de verf. Mijn lagere waardering heeft ongetwijfeld ook te maken met persoonlijke voorkeuren. De Hongaarse middeleeuwse koning was interessant genoeg, de Italiaanse renaissanscisten en humanisten een stuk minder (en de hele grote hoeveelheid namen van Italianen waar ik nog nooit van heb gehoord hielp ook niet). De auteur maakt bovendien erg sterk duidelijk dat hij weinig waardering heeft voor de middeleeuwse kunst, en ik houd zo van middeleeuwse verluchte boeken. Vreemd trouwens dat terwijl er in de Nederlanden middeleeuwse teksten werden gedrukt, inclusief middeleeuwse illustraties in blokdruk, in Italië en het afzetgebied renaissancistische werken (met door Tanner bejubelde perspectivisch correcte miniaturen) enkel als manuscript uitkwamen.
Desondanks heb ik toch wel wat geleerd over Hongarije en misschien iets meer begrip gekregen voor de Hongaren - ik weet een beetje beter waar ze vandaan komen. Het was ook interessant te lezen over de mythevorming rond Matthias en hoe hij nog leeft in de verbeelding van de mensen in de regio. Volgende stop is een boek over de Donaumonarchie.
Desondanks heb ik toch wel wat geleerd over Hongarije en misschien iets meer begrip gekregen voor de Hongaren - ik weet een beetje beter waar ze vandaan komen. Het was ook interessant te lezen over de mythevorming rond Matthias en hoe hij nog leeft in de verbeelding van de mensen in de regio. Volgende stop is een boek over de Donaumonarchie.
September 24, 2015
Interesting though it jumps around a bit.
More of a Hx of the king and 15th cent Hungary than a book about the library and its texts, although it does touch on it.
My edition could have done with a better proof reader. A few typos on dates with 15?? instead of 14??, so 100 years out. Also a couple of facts that seem just wrong (an Ottoman prince being held on Rhodes by the Knights Templars when they had been rubbed out/disbanded 170 or so years earlier...surely he meant the Hospitallers?) leaving me wondering what other errors I may have missed due to unfamiliarity with the period and subject.
The author also quotes in Latin or Greek occasionally and gives no translation or clarification in the notes...this is a personal bugbear of mine...how long does it take to add this info? No need to do this, laziness or presumptuousness on the authors part.
Good index and refs though.
More of a Hx of the king and 15th cent Hungary than a book about the library and its texts, although it does touch on it.
My edition could have done with a better proof reader. A few typos on dates with 15?? instead of 14??, so 100 years out. Also a couple of facts that seem just wrong (an Ottoman prince being held on Rhodes by the Knights Templars when they had been rubbed out/disbanded 170 or so years earlier...surely he meant the Hospitallers?) leaving me wondering what other errors I may have missed due to unfamiliarity with the period and subject.
The author also quotes in Latin or Greek occasionally and gives no translation or clarification in the notes...this is a personal bugbear of mine...how long does it take to add this info? No need to do this, laziness or presumptuousness on the authors part.
Good index and refs though.
January 4, 2011
The Raven King tells the story of both Mattias Corvinus and his famous library and, in so doing, also tells part of the history of many of the people and some of the places involved. Tanner keeps the narrative interesting while still delivering interesting facts along the way. Not only did I learn more about the time period itself but I also discovered interesting tidbits about book making of the time, a subject I'm also interested in.
The only problem I have with this book is the author's tendency, about once a chapter, to use long phrases in Latin or French without translation. My grasp of both languages is fair, but I would prefer that the author either translate in parentheses or not use the original language at all.
The only problem I have with this book is the author's tendency, about once a chapter, to use long phrases in Latin or French without translation. My grasp of both languages is fair, but I would prefer that the author either translate in parentheses or not use the original language at all.
November 26, 2019
The author can describe books and inanimate objects quite skillfully...it is humans he has trouble with...I am confident he has yet to meet a Catholic that is worthy of admiration...while humanists are the bees knees...despite the fact the library was ripped off with impunity by the same virtuous humanists. Very cheesey ending. Cheesey book.
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April 24, 2021I read this book a few years ago and wrote a private review just for my friends. In light of the publishing industry's racism and sexism exposed over the last few days, I thought it's better to share it more publicly. More of us need to start criticizing problematic writing; yes, they are words but words help normalize violence and violence on pages eventually becomes violence in real life. I am sick of opening newspapers and seeing how people are victimized every day, I am sick of hearing how people I know live half-lives because of how others trampled on their human rights.
What is so bad about this book? Even if you don't believe in sexism (which any educated, curious person would), sexist writing like this shows an author and a historical researcher who didn't do his job. He only wrote half the book he could have, he neglected to do full research because he let his prejudices in the way.
What did I get from this book apart from a few cool facts about Renaissance book ownership? I got that the author really, really hates women. From his writing, he only likes one kind of woman: the fuckable kind. Below are some quotes about how he writes about the one middle-aged woman in his subject matter. He hasn't convinced me that the woman was all bad because he absolutely had no quotes from what anyone at that time said about her or what she said about herself. I have no idea if she was headstrong or spoiled because I have no proof from Tanner's writing. Instead, I have proof that he hates her and that he based a lot of his opinions on portraits he saw of her. Nothing else.
Here are the quotes:
The woman in question, Queen Beatrice, is blamed for the main subject's death: "Beatrice was to blame. Matthias's headstrong wife had gone out and delayed his lunch."
Here are descriptions of her physical appearance and personality:
Page xi: "his pudgy, spoiled consort..."
Page 11: "She was now a heavy-set, double-chinned matron with an unfortunate profile..."
Page 77: "a woman with a jowly face, a small double chin and piggy eyes. She had clearly inherited the family's unappealing physical traits."
Page 79: "Both Beatrice's father and eldest brother had a sadistic streak in them, too. Beatrice did not share that family trait, fortunately, unless constant nagging counts as evidence of sadism."
The author does describe her as "quick-witted and precocious" at one point. But overall, he hates this woman who lived 600 years ago. What this leads me as a reader to think is, if he gave such short shrift to one historical figure in his study, how much research did he actually do on other aspects of his book, how many other figures in his history were misrepresented? When we read nonfiction, while we don't expect historians to know everything, we should expect the best history they can write with the available resources.
What is so bad about this book? Even if you don't believe in sexism (which any educated, curious person would), sexist writing like this shows an author and a historical researcher who didn't do his job. He only wrote half the book he could have, he neglected to do full research because he let his prejudices in the way.
What did I get from this book apart from a few cool facts about Renaissance book ownership? I got that the author really, really hates women. From his writing, he only likes one kind of woman: the fuckable kind. Below are some quotes about how he writes about the one middle-aged woman in his subject matter. He hasn't convinced me that the woman was all bad because he absolutely had no quotes from what anyone at that time said about her or what she said about herself. I have no idea if she was headstrong or spoiled because I have no proof from Tanner's writing. Instead, I have proof that he hates her and that he based a lot of his opinions on portraits he saw of her. Nothing else.
Here are the quotes:
The woman in question, Queen Beatrice, is blamed for the main subject's death: "Beatrice was to blame. Matthias's headstrong wife had gone out and delayed his lunch."
Here are descriptions of her physical appearance and personality:
Page xi: "his pudgy, spoiled consort..."
Page 11: "She was now a heavy-set, double-chinned matron with an unfortunate profile..."
Page 77: "a woman with a jowly face, a small double chin and piggy eyes. She had clearly inherited the family's unappealing physical traits."
Page 79: "Both Beatrice's father and eldest brother had a sadistic streak in them, too. Beatrice did not share that family trait, fortunately, unless constant nagging counts as evidence of sadism."
The author does describe her as "quick-witted and precocious" at one point. But overall, he hates this woman who lived 600 years ago. What this leads me as a reader to think is, if he gave such short shrift to one historical figure in his study, how much research did he actually do on other aspects of his book, how many other figures in his history were misrepresented? When we read nonfiction, while we don't expect historians to know everything, we should expect the best history they can write with the available resources.
February 26, 2025
Compellingly written, but disappointing for my needs. The research on the library itself and what happened to it is well done, but there are several errors in the understanding of 15th century Italy (that, while not obvious to a casual reader, were basic enough that I could clock them immediately, things like who was married to who, and years of death, and Guelphs and Ghibellines). Unfortunately, the worst part of this is its unfair treatment of Beatrice, Matthias's wife, which reflects a misogynistic and fatphobic tradition of blaming her disproportionately for things simply because some of her later portraits have a double chin. This book is certainly not unique in that, and has likely taken in that information and analysis without deconstructing it or going to the root of what actually occurred. It is unfortunate that there is almost zero English language scholarship on Beatrice, and little on Matthias. Someone should fill the void. This book has enough good points to make it worth reading for someone interested in Corvinus, his Hungary, and his library, but enough bad points to make it disappointing.
July 4, 2021
Tanner explains the national fascination with King Matthias' across several centuries starting with his rule in the 15th century and the effort to recover the lost works that went all the way into post WW1.
There are some excellent history lessons here regarding what many consider Hungary's Golden Age. The Black Army, besting the Ottoman Empire, besting the Holy Roman Empire and taking Vienna, construction of great buildings, and of course the building of Matthias' library.
The Raven King takes you into Renaissance-era Hungary when King Matthias Corvinus was just about the hottest military and political commodity of his time. The book focuses equally on Matthias' origins, reign, and years after his death as it does the building of his library, it's loss, and it's eventual recovery.
Excellent read!
There are some excellent history lessons here regarding what many consider Hungary's Golden Age. The Black Army, besting the Ottoman Empire, besting the Holy Roman Empire and taking Vienna, construction of great buildings, and of course the building of Matthias' library.
The Raven King takes you into Renaissance-era Hungary when King Matthias Corvinus was just about the hottest military and political commodity of his time. The book focuses equally on Matthias' origins, reign, and years after his death as it does the building of his library, it's loss, and it's eventual recovery.
Excellent read!
January 23, 2020
I loved this book. The author weaves together a history of Matthias Corvinus and that of his library.
Both Matthias and his library loom large in the history and mythology of Hungary. The Hungary of Matthias was in many ways the high point of Hungarian civilisation both territorially and culturally. He features heavily in monuments etc and his library has a mythic status for Hungarians.
Despite being such a central character in the history of Hungary I knew surprisingly little about him until reading this book.
The life of the Raven King makes a fascinating story and thankfully the author has done it justice.
Both Matthias and his library loom large in the history and mythology of Hungary. The Hungary of Matthias was in many ways the high point of Hungarian civilisation both territorially and culturally. He features heavily in monuments etc and his library has a mythic status for Hungarians.
Despite being such a central character in the history of Hungary I knew surprisingly little about him until reading this book.
The life of the Raven King makes a fascinating story and thankfully the author has done it justice.
May 28, 2023
Informative and engaging. Useful summary of Corvinus' reign and subsequent Hungarian history.
October 11, 2008
This book wasn't quite what I expected, not that I'm sure what that was, I had heard it recommended on PRI's "The World" and all I recalled from that piece was that this book was about a library, a monarch, and Hungary. While I married into a Hungarian family, my knowledge of the country and its history is quite limited. I suspect if I knew more, then that Tanner wrote more of the Italian influence (which makes sense as they produced the books and Matthias' wife) than of the library (since so much of it is unknown), it wouldn't have been such a sad surprise to me. The writing is good, though I would have preferred a better map and the addition of a basic time-line of key events and a family tree/who's who directory to help me when I felt mired in the details which felt quite detailed and new to this my-public-school-focused-on-American-History reader. I learned a good deal and feel that I now have a slightly better grasp of Eastern Europe in the late 15th century. If you are looking for a study of the society I think you will be disappointed. If you want to read a general history of the time and peoples I think you will enjoy it.
May 8, 2012
Fascinating history of Matthias Corvinus with an emphasis on his library and what happened to it after his death. The first two-thirds of this book is Matthias's history, interwoven with the books, and the last third of the book focuses one what happened with his library, the destruction by the Ottoman Turks, as well as the search through the years trying to recover those books by various people, up to the 1990's. Very interesting read, though sad for a book lover.
The only issue I had, and it was mentioned by another reviewer was sometimes the author would put something in Latin or Italian (due to the influence of the Italians and Viennese with Matthias' second wife) and not give an English translation.
The only issue I had, and it was mentioned by another reviewer was sometimes the author would put something in Latin or Italian (due to the influence of the Italians and Viennese with Matthias' second wife) and not give an English translation.
January 27, 2010
An interesting history of Matthias Corvinus, a 15th century king of Hungary and his pursuit of collecting books at a time when they were still quite rare (the printing press was invented only 14 years before his death).
After he died, Hungary pretty much disappeared as an independent country, but in the 18th and 19th century he became a national hero for Hungarian nationalists.
His library consisted of over 3,000 books, most of which ended up in Istanbul after Hungary was captured by the Ottoman Turks. A great deal of mystery surrounds his library still and this book does a good job of tracing its history.
After he died, Hungary pretty much disappeared as an independent country, but in the 18th and 19th century he became a national hero for Hungarian nationalists.
His library consisted of over 3,000 books, most of which ended up in Istanbul after Hungary was captured by the Ottoman Turks. A great deal of mystery surrounds his library still and this book does a good job of tracing its history.
January 10, 2009
I knew very little about this period, or this individual. The book contains a useful summary of the history, but the details on the library etc. are fascination (at least to a book lover). It is a shame that the Turks destroyed what was left of the library (not surprising, fairly typical) when they finally conquered what was left of Matthais' kingdom, although it appears that many of the books were long gone.
September 17, 2012
There are few books in English that are written about this great and beloved king of Hungary, and I was so glad to have found this one. My only complaint is that I wish it had been put together better, the information is just kind of thrown around at times. It may be, though, that I use it as a reference (among others) for my own fictional work and it's kind of a pain to find what I'm looking for.
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