I very rarely give up on books, but this was pretty poor. Boring stories told in the driest possible way. I was expecting some awesome tales of political schemings and bad popes bringing disgrace to the silly hat and so forth, maybe even some great works by great men, but I found none, so I abandoned ship.
Apparently John Julius Norwich is a viscount, which is a type of chocolate biscuit. I’m not surprised he failed to write a more interesting book.