Unruly: The Ridiculous History of England's Kings and Queens

by David Mitchell

When my wife and I are visiting a nice town or village for the first time, the question we always ask is ‘Where’s the bit?’ That’s what we’re looking for: the main bit. The nice bit. The bit you’re supposed to go and walk round where the stuff is. The bit that, once seen, gives you the authority to say you’ve been to the place. Tourists judge a place by its bit, even if locals eschew the bit because they’re inured to its beauties and obsessed with the difficulty of parking.

If that information is not enough to put you off further enquiry, then I think you should seriously consider putting this book down and developing a drug habit.)

Like King Arthur, King Alfred later became a convenient repository for English patriotic feeling and, unlike King Arthur, he both definitely existed and isn’t also a convenient repository for Welsh patriotic feeling.

As the reign progressed, it became clear that they weren’t random piratical raiders, but were organized by the King of Denmark and Norway, Sweyn Forkbeard (Forkbeard is Old Danish for Fuckface) (no it isn’t).

Taking advantage of a sudden death was a viable career path for much of the olden days. If you’re looking for promotion nowadays, hoping your immediate superior will snuff it just isn’t enough. It’s not very nice and it’s likely to lead to disappointment. You have to get proactive and start sending out CVs. People don’t die as much as they used to.

You’re either up for things like blinding people or you’re not, and an alarmingly large number of the political leaders of the middle ages fall into the former category,

When he heard the news, he was hunting in the New Forest (obviously) but headed directly for Le Mans – so directly in fact that he reportedly had a wall demolished that was in the way (to make some sort of point, one imagines, as I’m sure it would have been quicker to walk round it).

It’s a major example from history of the energizing power of insanity – like when a tiny, maddened terrier nearly succeeds in killing a postman.

Dying was by far the most astute and successful thing King John did in his entire reign.

Everyone’s pretty used to the idea that there was an event called the Peasants’ Revolt in the middle ages. Even if you haven’t heard of it, it sounds plausible. ‘I’d revolt if I were a medieval peasant,’ we say to ourselves with the self-confidence of people unafraid to complain about slow service in a Pizza Express. An uprising by the relentlessly shat-on rural poor sounds like the sort of thing that happens.