From the choice of cover to the last of the lists that it provides, Crist i la història shows a deep investment in the inclusion of multiple discourses and disciplines in its overview of Western European ecclesiastical historiography. The author, Montserrat Jiménez Sureda, has already researched and written articles on the Catalan Church, religious art and society in wartime, a background that can be appreciated throughout her most recent book. This 400-and-more page compilation, a round-up of sources as well as an intelligible account of medieval ecclesiastical history, is eclectic in its scope, searching for the common spirit of Western Europe without forgetting the East, and often playful in its tone.

Crist i la història approaches its subject from a comparative perspective. The author draws from gender and social history, bringing into focus authors and subjects that have often been overlooked; a point is made of women's potential as archivists and teachers – not just as mothers. She strongly criticises a lack of support and a leeching of sources that are known to those in the field; furthermore, she states the areas in which her book lacks coverage and proposes further research to the reader, to leave no stone unturned. Indeed, the reader is never far from the author's mind; she always provides general context or dates for events, and when popular or Latin expressions are used, they are always clarified. In fact, her enjoyment of etymology is noticeable and may be one of the text's stronger points; the reader is drawn to her love of language and words for their own sake. The dryness of the lists of works in every genre described contrasts with the love of a good story – without falling into sensationalism – and the gentle mocking of petty attitudes and squabbles.

This is too specialised a work to be enjoyed by the casual reader. None the less, it is easily accessible to students, and it can usefully be consulted on particular areas, as one would a catalogue, rather than having to be read in one sitting. As such, the main topics are developed according to their content, not chronologically. Textual genealogies are only used within limits, in order to present a bird's eye view of specific subjects. In those cases, they are not limited to medieval texts; the author emphasises their continuity across time, finding precedents and examples from more modern times, even from her personal experience. This subjective approach is also seen when she uses conventional terms only soon after to explain why she does not agree with them. Not much importance is given to the authors of the texts except to give equal measure to the less well-known or to point out relevant cases of patronage or purpose.

Diving into the content of Crist i la història, the reader finds that this great hypertext of sprawling references is divided into six parts – all of them bigger on the inside. The book begins with a brief introduction to the precursors of Christian historiography. The Bible is offered as a model for later chronicles; divinity has come closer to humankind, and theology and history are linked. The author then explores a ‘Christian universe’, her true subject. Different historiographic genres are explored, emphasising their role in education and social stability; a statement is made of childhood as a legitimate historical category. There follows an analysis of the development of nationhood and its links with religion; the concept of ‘Christendom’ appears at last. The tensions between Church and State are discussed, as are their multiple manifestations – attention is paid to the symbolic power of historiography. Different lenses are applied to this new Christendom: first local institutions are described, then national chronicles, and, finally, a common European identity. The following sections describe in detail the birth, growth and schisms of mendicant and militant orders. While no complete history of each order is attempted, the author looks for their historians, paying attention to the relationship between individuals, institutions and authorities. It is not only the writing down of knowledge that preoccupies this author, but also the way that it is passed on; its commission and reception. The author ends with a study of religious counter-identities, clarifying popular (mis)conceptions and finding common elements between heretical groups.

While each section of the book can be read independently, they are all bound together by visible threads. The connections between different European kingdoms are indicated, as one would the pieces that form a stained glass window. Christianity is therefore presented as the vertical axis of medieval Europe – both a pillar and a nexus. Time, space and religion all form layers in our personal identities – but in the discussion of authors and historiographers gender, class and age are not forgotten. There is a conscious effort to clarify stereotypes, and a recrimination of common practices among historians that should be left behind. The author condemns the double blindness among British and Hispanic historiographers, who are said to be working with their backs turned to one another; a point that is reinforced as this book waits for a translator. The image of the Middle Ages as a ‘more innocent’ time is also dismissed, pointing out the use of chronicles as propaganda by different institutions. History, Jiménez Sureda seems to say, is also a representation and a projection of values. All in all, a historian will find in Crist i la història a good introduction to the aspect of ecclesiastical historiography that interests them; and maybe a John Lennon joke or two.