Admiral Sir John Fisher – "Jacky" to his friends, and to the sailors who idolized him – dragged the Royal Navy, kicking and screaming, into the twentieth century. The battleships that fought the Germans to a standstill at Jutland in 1916, sank the Bismarck in 1941, and bombarded the Normandy beaches in 1944 were the children of his tireless mind. His innovations, however, went far beyond his enthusiasm for big guns. He championed the submarine at a time when most senior admirals wanted nothing to do with them, and the destroyer fleet that would (ironically) help to save Britain from German submarines twice in a generation. He gleefully trampled on centuries of naval tradition, valuing technical excellence over superficial spit-and-polish, and professional merit over class-based privilege. He treated engineering officers, whether they served afloat in engine rooms or ashore in dockyard and gunnery schools, as professional and social equals: unconscionable radicalism in the late 1800s, when they were regarded as the naval equivalent of plumbers, but essential to winning the technology-driven "next war" that arrived in 1914, as well as those that came after.

Jan Morris is interested in Fisher the innovator and Fisher the naval professional, but she is captivated by Fisher the man. She is a "Fisher enthusiast" in both the transatlantic sense of the word (she genuinely likes, and deeply admires him), and in the uniquely British sense that conveys the boundless enthusiasm of "geek" but not the social awkwardness (she's fascinated by the details of him, and eager to share what she knows ). Fisher's Face reflects both aspects of her enthusiasm. Its organization is an odd mixture of the chronological and the thematic—a guided tour rather than a structured narrative—and its tone an odd mixture of the authoritative and the chatty. Morris started as a travel writer and later (with her Pax Britannia trilogy) did for the British Empire what Shelby Foote did for the American Civil War: created a narrative of it compounded of equal parts history and literature. She is a superlative writer, and her prose unspools like satin on a polished tabletop, shimmering and flowing.

If you're more interested in what Fisher did than who he was, you'll likely find Morris's approach baffling after three chapters, and maddening after six. If you, however, you like compact, unorthodox biographies of fascinating, idiosyncratic individuals, you'll likely be fascinated – and delighted – by Fisher's Face, regardless of your level of interest in naval history. It may be only a minor classic of biography, but it's a classic nonetheless. ( )

If my teachers at school had thought to liven up the Causes of the First World War by recounting the remarkable career of Jacky Fisher, founder of the modern Royal Navy, I might have paid more attention. Written in Morris' usual engaging style, this is an excellent introduction to one of British history's more interesting characters. ( )