The Life of Thomas More (1998) by Peter Ackroyd

My all-time favorite play is “A Man For All Seasons,” Robert Bolt’s 1960 awarding-winning performance about the life and times of Sir Thomas More. I picked up this 1998 biography of More by the novelist Peter Ackroyd hoping to learn more about the main character, his beliefs, and his motivations. I was particularly intrigued because Ackroyd has made a successful career as a fiction writer and I was hoping (expecting actually) that he would make More’s incredible life all the more exciting and accessible.

The first thing any prospective reader should know about “The Life of Thomas More” is that it doesn’t follow the neat chronological arc found in most biographies. That is, the main character is born and the reader follows his life through childhood, adolescence, young adulthood and so on. Rather, Ackroyd covers large chunks of More’s life by describing what life was generally like in late fifteenth century London. The front cover of the paperback edition features a quote from The New Yorker claiming, “Ackroyd describes the London More knew, the ferment of humanism to which he contributed, and the contemporary appeal of Catholicism.” That’s absolutely correct. For large parts of the book More almost recedes into the background as Ackroyd tells the more general story of the early Reformation in England. I wouldn’t say that this approach was wrong or bad, but it certainly was unusual. I can’t think of any other biography I’ve ever read that is anything quite like it.

Thomas More was, in the words of contemporary Dutch humanist Erasmus, “omnium horarum” (translated roughly as “a man for all seasons”), because, Ackryod says, of “his affability and sweetness of nature.” Indeed, More is described as something of a “Mr. Perfect.” He was academically brilliant, flying through the traditionally prescribed course of study at Oxford and then preparatory work for his legal career at Lincoln Inn in record time and with outstanding performance. He was following in the footsteps of his father, the jurist John More, and he did so with filial piety and reverence. In the meantime, as his legal career flourished, he pursued a side interest in humanist study, befriending the leading English and European humanist scholars along the way, including most notably Erasmus. In 1516 he published his most memorable piece, the political satire “Utopia.” A year later Martin Luther would famously nail his 96 theses to the church door in Wittenberg signaling the opening shots in what would come to be known at the Reformation. More would spend the rest of his natural life resisting these heresies in England.

From October 1529 to May 1532, More served King Henry VIII as Lord Chancellor, the highest political post in the land. “For thirty-one months,” Ackroyd writes, “Thomas More embodied the law of England.” More zealously prosecuted Protestant heretics while engaging in written public debate on theological issues. More’s polemics against William Tyndale in 1531 represent, according to Ackroyd, “the most important dialogue within English religious discourse, perhaps of any age.” He writes that the confrontation between Tyndale and More embodies the struggle between the opposing tendencies of the period – “inner prayer and belief against communal worship and ritual, faith against works, the direct inspiration of scripture against inherited orthodoxy, redemption through Christ rather than the sacramental system.”

Of course, things went sideways for More when King Henry VIII insisted on divorcing his wife of two decades, Catherine of Aragon, and marrying the young Anne Boleyn. Catherine had briefly been married to Henry’s brother, Prince Arthur, which Henry claimed made his marriage to her null and void because of language in the Book of Leviticus condemning such a union. For one reason or another (Ackroyd never really explains why) the pope refused to recognize the annulment, setting the stage for the fateful showdown. More famously kept his own counsel through all of the drama and never openly articulated any opinions that could be held as treasonable. Henry ultimately decided to force everyone’s hand. Parliament passed the Law of Supremacy in 1534 and required a public oath be taken to support it. Backed into a corner, Thomas More and other leading Catholics, including John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, refused to take the oath and were charged with treason and sentenced to the death.

At no point does Ackroyd reference the dramatic portrayals of More’s life as depicted in Bolt’s play or the movie “A Man For All Seasons,” which won the 1966 Academy Award for Best Picture. I’m not sure why that is. Personally, almost my entire previous understanding of Thomas More and his life was shaped by the play and movie. If there are any significant differences between the drama and the historical account I would have liked to hear Ackroyd’s perspective on them.

In closing, it isn’t easy to make the life and times of early sixteenth century London come alive and Ackroyd doesn’t do this, at least not for me. But he does deliver a learned and readable presentation of the facts in the case and conveys the famous story in a way accessible to the lay reader. If you’re looking to read just one book about the broader period and events that swept up Thomas More in the 1530s I’d recommend “The Six Wives of Henry VIII” by Alison Weir, a delightfully readable and informative piece of popular history.