Devil’s Brood by Sharon Kay Penman

 

The third novel in Penman’s Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine trilogy covers the last years of Henry II’s reign from 1172 to 1189. Opening immediately prior to the first rebellion of Henry’s sons, the one that eventually lead to Eleanor’s imprisonment, the story offers an in-depth look into the lives of a dysfunctional family.

Hal, the Young King, who lives in the shadow of his father, expects his due to come easily and never learns to stand on his own two feet. Richard, distrustful of his father, ineffectual in the protection of his mother, grows angrily possessive of Aquitaine, his inheritance. Geoffrey, enigmatic and more like Henry than Henry would care to admit, takes advantage of his brothers’ discontent to further his own ends. John, the son Henry fatally underestimates, lives in their shadows, growing increasingly malcontent. Eleanor, wife, mother, queen, gives 16 years of her life for one mistake, and yet rises above them all in the end.

I enjoyed Devil’s Brood, as I enjoy most of Sharon Kay Penman’s novels. She is a gifted storyteller with the ability to make you like – or at least sympathize with - historical characters you might otherwise disdain. The history is never a mere backdrop, but a full course meal of authenticity, romanticism and imagination. The author’s historical note at the end helpfully explains where she embellished or changed historical fact.

If you like Elizabeth Chadwick, especially the William Marshal novels, you’ll like Devil’s Brood, in which Marshal appears throughout. Rating: Excellent! Note: This review is based on the Advanced Reading Copy.

The City and the Pillar by Gore Vidal


A classic novel of the gay experience during the post-Depression era, The City and the Pillar deserves praise for its candid portrayal of homosexuality during a time when being gay was considered shameful and immoral. The book originally appeared in 1948, making it contemporary fiction rather than a historical novel.

I read a version printed in 1961, which is significant only in that the copyright page states that the author made minor edits to two pages. There is no explanation. While it doesn’t seem likely that a slight altering of two pages would change the story, I thought I’d highlight the fact that my review is based on a more current edition.

While the novel broke ground concerning a subject that was taboo and paved the way for future authors of gay fiction, the story is not well-developed. It doesn’t flow. It starts, stops and stutters like a scratched CD (or record, if you are of the generations that remember record players).

I had trouble sympathizing with the main character, Jim Willard. His personality seemed flat, which may have been a statement in and of itself, except that all the characters lacked dimension.

It may have been the case that Vidal was taking care not to pass judgment. But the ending required the kind of anger that borders on madness. While Willard may well have been mad, his reticent personality showed no evidence of it. Rather, he exhibited a sudden eruption of anger that left me unconvinced.

But I’m judging the novel from a distance of 60 years. Attitudes have changed, although room for improvement certainly exists. As time marches on, it becomes increasingly difficult to appreciate the remarkable courage it took to write and publish such a book. Thus, I recommend it to all as a reminder of what was at a time that really isn’t all that far into the past. Rating: Good.

An Instance of the Fingerpost by Iain Pears


While I used to devour mysteries as if they were a source of life’s sustenance, I have not read more than a few over the past couple of years. They became too formulaic, if not entirely predictable. Many of the historical mysteries just didn’t offer enough history to hold my attention. Thus, when I read that An Instance of the Fingerpost was hailed as a literary mystery set against the background of the English Restoration, I was intrigued.

It did not disappoint. Told from four points of view - two of which are actual historical characters - the novel centers around the murder of Robert Grove, a senior fellow of New College in Oxford. Four characters relate the circumstances of his death. None are lying, but only one knows what really happened.

This clever presentation kept me stumped up to the end. Moreover, whodunnit was incidental to the real intrigue taking place in Charles II’s court. This involved a conspiracy to rival the Popish Plot.

An Instance of the Fingerpost is an intellectual’s mystery story. You may need a scorecard to keep the evidence, the players, their biases and interpretations in order. Along the way, you’ll pick up a lot of the history of the era. I counted no less than 8 actual historical figures – Richard Lower (one of the first physicians to experiment with blood transfusions), John Locke (philosopher), Robert Boyle (chemist), Thomas Ken (bishop), John Thurloe (spymaster for Oliver Cromwell), John Wallis (mathematician), Anthony Wood (historian) and Christopher Wren (astronomer/architect).

When historical fiction leaves me hungering to learn more about the history, it’s done its job. An Instance of the Fingerpost is my second favorite read of the year, falling only behind As Meat Loves Salt, which is a very different kind of story told, ironically, during a slightly earlier time period. Rating: Excellent

Gaveston by Chris Hunt

Told from Edward II’s point of view, Gaveston relates the life of his friend and lover from the time of his arrival in England as a teenager until his murder during the early years of Edward’s reign. Edward’s attraction is immediate.

Piers Gaveston was the most beautiful creation on God’s earth…. [He] had eyes as green as emeralds and a smile that dazzled like the sun….

But Gaveston’s beauty was to be, in Edward’s eyes, his curse. For as much as Edward loves him, others seethe with anger over his special treatment. They resent the gifts Edward bestows on him. They further blame him for Edward’s inattention to important matters ranging from securing his inheritance to dealing with the Scottish wars.

In time, Edward’s cousin, Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, and Guy de Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, conspire to capture and kill Gaveston. But the story doesn’t end quite at this point. There’s a brief accounting of Edward’s later relationship with Hugh le Despenser and a 4-paragraph epilogue on Roger Mortimer’s and Isabelle’s (Edward’s queen) imprisonment of Edward.

While the author’s knowledge of the subject is impressive and her inventions (Thomas’ and Edward’s youthful sexual experiments) make sense in light of the story, I find myself unable to recommend it without qualification except to those who never tire of reading about this time period or these characters.

The problem with the novel is threefold: While well-researched, it never really breaks out of the gay historical romance model. The sex is often, explicit and largely unnecessary. Second, while Edward clearly was a weak ineffectual king, his portrayal as an immature, petulant, sniveling man who can’t get Gaveston’s nether parts out of his head grates.

Third, telling the story from Edward’s point of view sometimes made it farcical. For instance, at the end of a section where Edward tells about leaving England to marry Isabelle, he says, “I simply cannot understand why so many people took offence when I left him [Gaveston] regent in my absence.” While Edward lacked good judgment, this remark makes him stupid. Rating: Good.

See also: Read a review of this novel from someone who is quite knowledgeable about the man: Gaveston by Chris Hunt on Edward II

Do You Love/Hate Richard III?

17 August 2008 — fuzzyhistory

Vulpes Libris will discuss Richard III during the week. “We won’t be providing any definitive answers this week, but we will – we hope – be offering a reasonably balanced overview of the most controversial and enigmatic monarch England has ever known.” Discussion topics include Shakespeare’s Richard III, Sharon Kay Penman’s The Sunne in Splendour, Emma Darwin’s A Secret Alchemy (due out in the U.K. in November 2008), Sir John Everett Millais’ painting, The Two Princes Edward and Richard in the Tower, two different versions of Richard III in film, and Annette Carson’s Richard III: The Maligned King. Annette Carson will join in at the end of the week. (Tip of the hat to EC at Historicalfiction.org for the head’s up.)

Richard III Week

  • To Prove a Villain (Monday)
  • The Sunne in Splendor by Sharon Kay Penman (Tuesday)
  • Writing wrongs to make A Secret Alchemy (Wednesday)
  • The Shadows in History’s Eye (Thursday)
  • The Trouble with Richard III on Film, or just The Trouble with Richard III? (Friday)
  • The Maligned King by Annette Carson (Saturday)
  • Interview with Annette Carson (Sunday)

Fiction and Non-fiction on Edward II

14 August 2008 — fuzzyhistory

I have admired Alianore’s Edward II blog from afar for awhile. I was catching up on my blog reading tonight when I found her post on fiction and non-fiction on Edward II. It’s a great list with short annotations.

I read two of the fictional titles on her “like” list – The Traitor’s Wife by Susan Higginbotham and The Lion of Mortimer by Juliet Dymoke. Both of these are excellent. I intend to re-read them.

I’ve been watching for Brenda Honeyman’s books at used book sales for several months. She’s not easy to find. I’ve seen some of her titles associated with the name Brenda Clarke. Unfortunately, she’s not available through my local library. I may have to go the interlibrary loan route (since she’s on Alianore’s “like” list).

Don’t miss the comments on the post. They’re equally informative and entertaining.

Stealing Athena by Karen Essex

9 August 2008 — fuzzyhistory

Stealing Athena tells the story of the deconstruction of the Elgin Marbles during the early 19th Century. Originally belonging to the Parthenon, the Elgin Marbles comprise marble sculptures created, or supervised, by the Greek sculptor Pheidias. In 1801, Thomas Bruce, the British ambassador to the Ottoman Empire, received permission to remove them to England. He did so over the course of several years at great expense and not without mishap.

While the politics of both countries regarding this event, as well as the disruption of the Napoleonic Wars, provide interesting background, the story centers around the lives of two women – Bruce’s (called Lord Elgin) wife, Mary, and Aspasia, the consort of the Athenian politician Perikles during the 4th Century B.C. Both women suffer to a greater or lesser degree because they live in a world that did not recognize their status except as a man’s chattel.

Thus, the premise of the novel intrigued me. But, unfortunately, the anachronistic portrayal of Aspasia, as well as oft-mentioned feminist ideals out of context with the times and anachronisms in conversations amongst ancient Greeks (particularly, the use of modern coarse slang) contribute to my overall dissatisfaction with the book.

If this were the sum of the problems with the novel, I might still have rated it “good” as defined in my chart. But the story fails to engage. I became bored at about page 150 and remained bored until the end. I was unable to connect with either Elgin or Mary.

Elgin was an irritating conniving vengeful bully, who despite his role in government, remained clueless about people and politics. Mary, more a woman of her times than Aspasia, was too innocent and saintly – a Mary Sue. Rating: Fair.

While England Sleeps by David Leavitt

27 July 2008 — fuzzyhistory

Now a well-to-do has-been writer in his mid-50s, Brian Botsford is haunted by events of the late 1930s when fascism was on the rise in parts of Europe. In 1936, he was 22 years old and living at home, though his parents had died recently. He depended financially on a wealthy interfering aunt.

Lured by the strong pull of Communism amongst the circle of his acquaintances, Botsford attends a gathering where he meets Edward Phelan, a man 2 years younger and from the working class. Edward accompanies Botsford to the apartment where he recently moved.

Their brief sexual encounter leads to a more involved relationship. But whereas Phelan is comfortable with his sexuality, Botsford is not. Eventually his interfering aunt talks him into meeting a woman, who, he convinces himself, he ought to marry.

The woman – Philippa – knows him better than he knows himself. She rejects him. But in the meantime, Phelan discovers the betrayal and flees to Spain into the arms of the Communists.

Botsford’s reminiscences continue as they relate his feelings of sexual confusion and his eventual pursuit of Phelan. Readers gain snippets of insight into the dealings of the Communist Party, attitudes toward homosexuality and the conditions of war – the Spanish Civil War.

But, alas, this is not a novel about war or politics. Rather, it is a coming of age story – a tale about a man, who, by the time he accepts his homosexuality, finds it is too late for the one he loves.

Warning: Contains graphic descriptions of homoerotic sex. Rating: Very good. (Click the image above to purchase the novel from Amazon. Fuzzy History receives a small commission for the referral.)

Black Ships by Jo Graham

25 July 2008 — fuzzyhistory

Born of The Aeneid, Black Ships retells the story of Aeneas, the last prince of Troy, from the point of view of a female oracle. Known variously as Gull, Linnea, Pythia and Sybil, she walks with Persephone, the Lady of the Dead, serving as her voice when she communicates with the people.

Troy has fallen when the story opens. Gull is the child of a slave woman. Because of an accident that cripples her, she becomes Pythia’s acolyte. In a few years, at the tender age of 12 or 13, Gull becomes Pythia through the death of her mentor.

Aeneas arrives in Pylos seeking a place for his people to live. Pythia joins Aeneas at this point and travels with his people.

Centered around the trials and tribulations of their travels from Pylos to their final destination, Latium, near the future Rome, Black Ships describes the economic crisis of the times (approximately 1200 BCE) and how people coped with it.

While I very much enjoyed the story, I wonder if this modern retelling loses something of the reality of the times of Virgil’s Aeneid. The men seem too kind-hearted (e.g., Aeneas’ treatment of Basetamon), too deferential to Gull – though at times they believe her to be more a god than a woman. There are sword fights and skirmishes, but the battle scenes aren’t related in the same graphic detail as the travels or the relationships amongst the people.

At the end of the day, Black Ships is as much a love story as it is a historical novel. It’s in no way, shape or form the kind of trashy bodice-ripper often associated with the genre, historical romance. But neither is the novel what I would call historical fantasy. There is legend, but no dragons. There is mystique, but no magic.

While the categorization is unlikely the author’s fault, potential readers should be prepared for an emotional journey rather than a fast-paced romp through imagined lands. Rating: Very good. (Click the image above to purchase the novel from Amazon. Fuzzy History receives a small commission for the referral.

The God of Spring by Arabella Edge

19 July 2008 — fuzzyhistory

In 1818, Théodore Géricault began painting his masterpiece on the shipwreck of the Medusa. It was a politically sensitive subject at the time in that the government-appointed captain of the ship abandoned its crew and passengers to die, fleeing to safety on a lifeboat. The God of Spring – so titled, explains the author, in accordance with the concepts of “self-sacrifice, celebration and death” that stem from the Aztec God of Spring - tells of Géricault’s obsession with his work. Indeed, obsession may not be a strong enough word to describe the artist’s state of mind. Several times while reading this tale, I wondered if he bordered on insanity.

Starting with Géricault’s illicit love affair with his aunt, which he ended when he became obsessed with the Medusa, Edge takes the reader back in time to relive the last six years of his life. You experience his insecurities in love, friendship and fame, his knowledge about art and painting as well as what he learns – about the composition of color, illness and human suffering - in order to produce The Raft of the Medusa. You endure the instability of his mind as he obsesses over bringing to life the survivors’ story.

Edge is a gifted storyteller. I never thought I would have an interest in how a masterpiece came to be. But without ever becoming sidetracked by the political scandal itself, Edge draws the reader in to Géricault’s work and the last days of his life. Rating: Very Good. (Click the image above to purchase the novel from Amazon. Fuzzy History receives a small commission for the referral.