tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39915248896967212612024-03-18T22:05:35.654-07:00Love Of LeavesLooking for the true Henry VI and discovering Medieval England along the wayJudyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.comBlogger65125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-2122667495825871792011-09-06T11:07:00.000-07:002011-09-06T11:10:07.645-07:00A Year Has Passed......since I have last posted anything in this sorry blog. I have read far too little and have thought about what I have read far too little. In reopening this blog, I am hoping for a fall of increased medieval activity passing through my brain and putting something of interest on this blog.Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-21881356757139529342010-08-23T18:41:00.000-07:002010-08-23T19:14:18.774-07:00Edward I - British Caesar<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG4qtr8ACwvPp2Yf4HALGmCKDeiU5cclazbmJYn64FuwnQAjRJDlsmHYOpSFnt1ojGePlSt1-ldUVgyo53s-XmtXe2U5pSaGAJXE-32d4CFcMCZ_CIp7c0i4IG-dvrulcbv4WN-LcVNHRK/s1600/Gal_nations_edward_i.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 126px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG4qtr8ACwvPp2Yf4HALGmCKDeiU5cclazbmJYn64FuwnQAjRJDlsmHYOpSFnt1ojGePlSt1-ldUVgyo53s-XmtXe2U5pSaGAJXE-32d4CFcMCZ_CIp7c0i4IG-dvrulcbv4WN-LcVNHRK/s200/Gal_nations_edward_i.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508789513200113778" /></a><br />This king that was, Edward I, was a shivery king with a heart of steel and a grasp for empire. As such he forged Britain through hearty attempted conquest over native celtic peoples (Welsh, Scottish Gaels and to some extent the Irish) - through invasion, then settlement and consequently the attempted eradication of the indigenous cultures. Not pretty, the stuff of empire building. Like its component, war, it is ugly and everywhere. <div><br /></div><div>I am reading Marc Morris' recent popular history "A Great and Terrible King - Edward I and the Forging of Britain". It is very sobering reading, and now I have the background for the Welsh novels of Sharon Kay Penman. This work has so far turned out to be an eye opener - as this is another period where I am a little lost and thirsty for a bit of "knowledge". Sometimes I despair at my late arrival to several eras of English history, but, with an American education and a collegiate stint at classical languages, it is only in the last few years I have been lucky enough to have the time to peer into the story of these deeply fascinating British Isles.</div><div><br /></div><div>Back to Edward (please) - I was interested to learn of his interest in Arthur as a unifying king (or so the myth that was taken as fact at the time bore out). Geoffrey of Monmouth's flight of fantasy as it is seen now was taken as history to the thinking sorts then, and may be considered a work of propaganda. I have pulled his "History of the Kings of Britain" off my shelf, so maybe next will come a walk into a subroutine of the whole Arthur shtick. Of course, Henry VII bought into all of the Arthur magic when he so named his son. </div><div><br /></div><div>And to think England was almost ruled by a king named Alfonso.</div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-49317407713749016992010-07-25T16:18:00.001-07:002010-07-26T19:38:55.632-07:00Civil Servant Extraordinaire<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiodjsuqFLrCA8OtGcIJh9JPTensBS_Xdopw3rPbpcdTliMRph4XhFGNMi-xKwEYFmp8grbdl-5WB2ruXdf_hGhdgvJvTWqlG1rhF-pbVBPJ_KbfE_y3MUHL88B9uN4096X3hWXHtxyJPUK/s1600/501px-Cromwell,Thomas(1EEssex)01.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 167px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiodjsuqFLrCA8OtGcIJh9JPTensBS_Xdopw3rPbpcdTliMRph4XhFGNMi-xKwEYFmp8grbdl-5WB2ruXdf_hGhdgvJvTWqlG1rhF-pbVBPJ_KbfE_y3MUHL88B9uN4096X3hWXHtxyJPUK/s200/501px-Cromwell,Thomas(1EEssex)01.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498406566070100018" /></a><br />Warning: This post may state the obvious. So many have waxed euphoric (or something) about this book that I really have nothing new to contribute. However, this state of reviews won't stop me from a couple of thoughts:<div><br /></div><div>Two Thomases of Tudor England are set in opposition in the wondrously absorbing award winning novel <span style="font-style: italic;">Wolf Hall </span>by Hilary Mantel - Thomas Cromwell and Thomas More. More has gotten much better press over the centuries, and it is gratifying to see a less favorable view that is very well presented. More's Chelsea comes off effete and barren compared to the Cromwell lair, Austin Friars. Though a ruthless servant of the King, Cromwell's home life is nurturing to the ones under his roof.</div><div><br /></div><div>Getting home to that roof every day is a challenge for Cromwell, who, after the death of Cardinal Wolsey, his totally larger than life mentor, rises to become Henry VIII's top adviser, administrator, and general ear. Wolsey's fate stands in the background, however. These are the Anne Boleyn years, and Mantel's characterization of Anne is also original and different from the standard treatment of her in historical novels (at least the few I have read). Jane Seymour pokes her head in at times and is also portrayed in an interesting light. </div><div><br /></div><div>The prose is also a bit unconventional, and though initially I thought the third person about one person clumsy, once I oriented myself to it the technique worked well. This is a work of original depth-charging insight, and well worth completing though it may seem a bit daunting at times.</div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-55907618294059590292010-07-02T16:57:00.000-07:002010-07-05T17:53:29.907-07:00Mary Well Drawn<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY0FE5XbDU9hN3Yz9ttCZnmzH8nyMdTH5-ijrW-hYp-l54CIU5Ta6VVTSgsWEljYguFjL3og6AqxYMTmFw9JWSaxoOi_6RP-K15gMm3icBmjL27-aCDLQio1V8XbfL5EESluxkgT_ndNKw/s1600/Mary_Stuart_Execution1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 153px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY0FE5XbDU9hN3Yz9ttCZnmzH8nyMdTH5-ijrW-hYp-l54CIU5Ta6VVTSgsWEljYguFjL3og6AqxYMTmFw9JWSaxoOi_6RP-K15gMm3icBmjL27-aCDLQio1V8XbfL5EESluxkgT_ndNKw/s200/Mary_Stuart_Execution1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489472853890993410" /></a><br />Mary, Queen of Scots - part damsel in distress, part slighted monarch, completely the prisoner who thinks deeply of escape. A sad business, the list of castle-prisons doleful and dreary, a journey from one place to another place, jailor to jailor, slowly and unfailingly towards the violent end that, by any road, couldn't be put off any longer. Alongside this slide sits an endangered and fretful Queen Elizabeth.<div><br /></div><div>A Tudor/Stuart tragedy. And, as portrayed in Jean Plaidy's "The Captive Queen of Scots", so so sad. Elizabeth and Mary - bifurcated womanhood? Head and heart? A queen with a realm placed on her at a very young age vs. a queen who started as a princess with no definite future. A meeting between these two would have thematically logistically been impossible. The story would have run quite differently, methinks.</div><div><br /></div><div>Mary is no solitary prisoner, she enjoys the continual devotion of servants and young idealistic would be rescuers. Plaidy draws them artfully, as well as she does the jailors. The sub plot of the Earl and Countess of Shrewsbury (Bess of Hardwick) is of interest as I am completely new to this pair. </div><div><br /></div><div>At length regicide happened. But, though not Queen of England, our Mary, she may be considered the mother of the Stuart dynasty to rule for a few generations.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-86509825885143689632010-06-14T17:16:00.000-07:002010-06-14T17:41:32.241-07:00Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPVpQ3WOeNZ2BKs8yJYBmIP6yueXG20PoAdqkNMxITuEJIOQalRo0rnQXaBo9XHvcbHB3y74yEi_wLgdzPdzArLMow-cQEiLTk6-ZkmjW2HppU_KHqN25Bnd8TrHQ3oBxJfHzOU5DFTjud/s1600/Mary,_Queen_of_Scots_in_Captivity.png"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 135px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPVpQ3WOeNZ2BKs8yJYBmIP6yueXG20PoAdqkNMxITuEJIOQalRo0rnQXaBo9XHvcbHB3y74yEi_wLgdzPdzArLMow-cQEiLTk6-ZkmjW2HppU_KHqN25Bnd8TrHQ3oBxJfHzOU5DFTjud/s200/Mary,_Queen_of_Scots_in_Captivity.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482793984046763858" /></a><br />I have been fortunate over the years in my license to read what appeals to me rather than something assigned. This allows one book to lead to another. The story of the doomed House of Howard depicted in "House of Treason" by Robert Hutchinson led me almost without a hiccup to "Her Majesty's Spymaster" by Stephen Budiansky. The thread is the foolhardy 4th Duke of Norfolk, only duke in the land, who tangled himself up with Mary, Queen of Scots. He was no match for Francis Walsingham, and, perhaps because I have a modest position in the civil service, I wanted to know more about "Mr. Secretary", what made him tick and how he was able to expose Mary.<div><br /></div><div>Mary was reckless in her imprisonment, and Norfolk aimed too high in his hopes for the marrying of her. He was, due to his naivete, rather easily dispensed with, beheaded in 1572. Mary was the center of other plots that were laid bare by Walsingham. She was saved, perhaps, for as long as she was, by a wavering Elizabeth, who didn't want to set an example of regicide.</div><div><br /></div><div>From here, I will step into some historical fiction, namely "The Captive Queen of Scots", by the mistress, Jean Plaidy.</div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-79313883598848001472010-06-13T19:32:00.001-07:002010-06-13T20:08:00.312-07:00Knocking on Devil's Door<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbd1Xq6pJs-Db4UtNZgtJrJaFM9CeIPOJNsse6pKlSLp5KSfmr8j5Avd4qDarSXX_mSrabDwOpGKWJUbkSntQsJWPCGF8lZIjUw4F8JL8KmaAfikVFTNXYlv2Bsun_h8EQIuYcgPuXjyPV/s1600/IMG_0488.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbd1Xq6pJs-Db4UtNZgtJrJaFM9CeIPOJNsse6pKlSLp5KSfmr8j5Avd4qDarSXX_mSrabDwOpGKWJUbkSntQsJWPCGF8lZIjUw4F8JL8KmaAfikVFTNXYlv2Bsun_h8EQIuYcgPuXjyPV/s200/IMG_0488.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482451927402356178" /></a>This beautiful aged church has a feature I had never seen, and have since found out is indigenous to the UK. It is called the "Devil's Door", built into the north face of some medieval and earlier churches. Here it can be seen under the third window, and is perhaps too small for a human to enter. Its purpose is to provide an escape hatch for the Devil as he carries the soul of an unbaptized child to an unpleasant place. I wonder if this practice is a crossover from pagan beliefs.<div><br /></div><div>Unfortunately, I have no idea of the name of this church as I took this picture from the second storey of a tour bus, the use of which fitted our need for low impact sightseeing whilst I was suffering a coughy illness.</div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-10583921443322146312010-06-12T19:53:00.000-07:002010-06-15T14:43:35.848-07:00The Streets of York City<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTcMjInHMaqL_qjI8cGa1E7P_WC7B0hAM6oDhd0aGbDrhYz9Xb5gdpQIi4nDOc-lBgCRv-pMiPk2aYHxVt8bWkqMjinzHm1DeN-XCwxBwv6Ssu_e8XsykFIzE1LcTLuIMXIxs1FW_3Uhby/s1600/IMG_0356.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTcMjInHMaqL_qjI8cGa1E7P_WC7B0hAM6oDhd0aGbDrhYz9Xb5gdpQIi4nDOc-lBgCRv-pMiPk2aYHxVt8bWkqMjinzHm1DeN-XCwxBwv6Ssu_e8XsykFIzE1LcTLuIMXIxs1FW_3Uhby/s200/IMG_0356.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482092294335683618" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr_fjb5MdQpyfqHJBJxrITRcCYeBCAuYqIKDsONWuKHowq_rxGpiXzQqVZYoxGMORqTZO1BTDbpIxKdXUSLvhFjn2m4dx5Si9vBX9HljJn36rs7IN5iDUnalagO9cOhpKn2lyJXmywDZic/s1600/IMG_0351.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr_fjb5MdQpyfqHJBJxrITRcCYeBCAuYqIKDsONWuKHowq_rxGpiXzQqVZYoxGMORqTZO1BTDbpIxKdXUSLvhFjn2m4dx5Si9vBX9HljJn36rs7IN5iDUnalagO9cOhpKn2lyJXmywDZic/s200/IMG_0351.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482089658067750322" /></a><br />Throughout the two weeks or so we dallied in York, we returned repeatedly to the medieval streets of the City Centre. Tight and confusing to the visitor, they were exceedingly delicious. Continually becoming lost was truly a privilege. Within aged lanes were such phenomena as Poundworld, more enjoyable to experience than American Dollar Stores, and an Oxfam charity shop that I perceived to be a better deal than our Salvation Army Stores.Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-3551764909158435372010-06-10T18:08:00.000-07:002010-06-11T03:18:19.660-07:00Micklegate Bar<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL_c2s6RjPIrpIajwB_wLEEKkuqCOxJ7a_6JWjo-0ADL94AHXEsxnuYY6EVF7ZnCtHo5aW-JfZDcNfclp-TONEy4my0ymvUk96pa9EE9JHJ9GWbT2DZvJeEMahdZ83z-OXOdSzBdFuFgg_/s1600/IMG_0493.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL_c2s6RjPIrpIajwB_wLEEKkuqCOxJ7a_6JWjo-0ADL94AHXEsxnuYY6EVF7ZnCtHo5aW-JfZDcNfclp-TONEy4my0ymvUk96pa9EE9JHJ9GWbT2DZvJeEMahdZ83z-OXOdSzBdFuFgg_/s200/IMG_0493.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481320626702034498" /></a><br />It was one of those omigod moments when I saw Micklegate Bar, the southern entrance to the City Walls of York. On a few occasions, famous heads greeted the visitor. Chief in my mind is Richard, Duke of York. I was drawn to the period of the Wars of the Roses many years ago because of enjoyment of the Shakespeare history plays spanning from Richard II to Richard III. I realize that Henry VI is conspicuous in his relative absence in his plays, but I love the speech at<i> 3 Henry VI, </i>II. 5 - "This battle fairs like to the morning's war", because it is the clearest picture of him in the plays, miserable and mournfully alone.<div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I digressed. It was a magical moment seeing this gate to York.</div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-16072541618276902532010-06-03T19:15:00.000-07:002010-06-03T19:39:50.345-07:00Air Conditioned ComfortMy dreams of becoming a writer of something worthwhile have, since the UK2010 trip, crashed and burned, with scorched wings trembling on a gritty ground. I have all the physical tools - now and iPad among them - but they all lie dormant save this one currently being used. This dream death has left me a little breathless, with the wind whooshed out of me.<div><br /></div><div>But, you see, it may be a good thing - it may be like growing up. It may seem a yawning hopelessness now, but this loss may lead to some grounding in the present that has been lacking in my psyche. Approaching the workplace with some seriousness now, I am thinking about my job as more important than I have done. There was within a feeling of "just passing through", and now I see that my innate mother-given respect for any task in front of me has stood by me well. This attitude was drilled in me and I am glad of it.</div><div><br /></div><div>On a domestic note, my spouse has laudably ripped the rug out from under all the living and dining room furniture (well, he did move it all first), exposing quite a nice dark hardwood floor. The rug had been there, we estimate, about 40 years. It appeared so anyway. This deed will completely change how we interact with our living room space in a good way. Also, the air conditioner in my office is up and humming. Let summer come in!</div><div><br /></div><div>Enough about me. I am reading Robert Hutchinson's "House of Treason" and find it very informative regarding the ill-fated Tudor House of Howard, which brought two queens to be beheaded along with a cast of several men who sojourned in the Tower. Hopefully I will bring together some thoughts about these folks soon.</div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-3041626751639577882010-05-02T14:47:00.000-07:002010-05-02T17:50:24.770-07:00In a Good Place<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJuRgVvdROYpiUSHHpIO7AmK07LR1hhlrPF4AbkIzaz_YAmfGmfpYsbd9-42ezGfDvAE1U3TtUD-5vudz40S80-msfBptu2mzRa9J0a4T80i_s87UMTrnvr8_HipZSUSQ-mmpBpRR4TPbD/s1600/photo.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJuRgVvdROYpiUSHHpIO7AmK07LR1hhlrPF4AbkIzaz_YAmfGmfpYsbd9-42ezGfDvAE1U3TtUD-5vudz40S80-msfBptu2mzRa9J0a4T80i_s87UMTrnvr8_HipZSUSQ-mmpBpRR4TPbD/s200/photo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466793408621182498" /></a>There's our Henry Sext, contemplative in York Minster, next to his father, who ruled with the sword. He has the look of melancholy, and is the last in the line of sculpted kings here.<div> </div><div>The UK trip, my first overseas trip in nearly twenty years, was a mixture of glorious sightseeing and personal discomfort, as I contracted pneumonia, probably on the plane ride over, and never fully recovered. That said, my mother and I did not hesitate to tramp around York, a city with a vivid center core. She picked up my ailment in the second week, making travel home challenging. The grounding of everything due to the effects of the ash of the Icelandic volcano ended the day before we were set to fly - and we were able to get home with hopes that we did not cause much trouble. </div><div><br /></div><div> My book buying sickness was rampant, as I had to buy a piece of carryon luggage to deal with its results. Hopefully, they will fuel this blog. Now to get beyond the travel letdown and go back to my career as a tax collector in this New York city. Much to digest and learn - and grateful for the time away.</div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-12544856884990883682010-03-27T21:06:00.000-07:002010-03-28T14:42:14.809-07:00Silken BondsA few years ago I first bumped into Jane Shore, the celebrated mistress of King Edward IV. She was being examined by a biographer, who was fleshing out a likely picture of her life as a late 15th century courtesan. Recently, however, I met her in a pleasantly lively novel by Vanora Bennett - "Figures in Silk". However, it is her sister Isabel who turns into an achiever of another type - that of a prosperous silk merchant.<div><br /></div><div>Her capability and verve in establishing the prominence of the House of Claver is set against a hopeless and intense affair with an unattainable personage. This is almost a bifurcation, aptitude and cleverness on the one side of her life, and the heartfelt ambivalence in her illicit relationship comprising another side of her life.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jane and Isabel are quite different, in appearance, attitude and modes of survival. However, they near each other by story's end. This is a good story although some of the character depictions may be a little of a stretch. It is a fine look at the merchant class in 15th century England, however, and worth reading for that reason included.</div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-88416018964324869722010-03-10T14:59:00.000-08:002010-03-11T17:14:06.605-08:00The Stolen CrownI always like meeting new people, especially new English dead people. Susan Higginbotham's latest work delves into the emotions, thoughts, and precarious lives of Katherine Woodville and Henry Stafford, Duke of Buckingham. My knowledge of the period (Wars of the Roses) is incomplete, though I am trying to ingest all of the facts, feelings and fictions of the era for a good feel of what I will be looking for in England in the near future.<div><br /></div><div>Edward IV wedded Elizabeth Woodville in secret and tried to keep it so as long as possible. After the union was discovered/proclaimed, a passel of Woodvilles made advantageous marriage alliances with nobles and/or their heirs, including our headlining pair. Katherine (Kate), the youngest of the tribe links up with Henry (Harry) and the rest of their lives are spent in the furious uncertainty of the time of the Wars. Especially interesting is Higginbotham's portrayal of Richard of Gloucester, who, in the early days, was best friend to Harry - some time before he took the crown and assumed the name of Richard III. I found it to be the most plausible of the solutions to the Princes in the Tower mystery, totally fitting in with the character of those involved.</div><div><br /></div><div>As far as the title of the book is concerned, the crown was stolen more than once - these thefts could embody the dynamic shifts in power between the red and the white and are their core. I'd say - read this book for a number of reasons, all good.</div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-53171678715179552162010-02-28T13:39:00.000-08:002010-02-28T14:00:39.923-08:00Academic Would I BeI am pushing through the last twenty pages of an insightful book - "The Hollow Crown" by Miri Rubin - that is, despite the author's position stated in the introduction to the contrary, an "academic" work. It reminds me of a book I slogged through in college - "A History of Greece" by A. R. Bury (or maybe it is Burns? - anyway a dense work that left me uninspired). This present book is an ambitious review of the Late Middle Ages in Britain that assumes a good amount of prior knowledge of the history of said time period.<div><br /></div><div>The book is full of insights and interesting facts. I noted that the words "buoyancy" and "buoyant" occur at several junctures, usually applied to trade. The style is such that concerted concentration is needed, and at times I have driven through pages without remembering what I read (a defect in me, not the book) and having to backtrack.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is not a traditional history - the kings are covered but the wool trade has just as much attention. I was fortunate to know the bones of the period (1307 - 1485), and this work was a deep enhancement of said knowledge. I learned that I have not the tenacity of an academic - perhaps my job takes that aspect out of me - but wish I could retain the information imparted by a work such as "The Hollow Crown" is.</div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-64737446966917526772010-01-28T18:48:00.000-08:002010-01-28T19:07:30.460-08:00IlluminatedShould one write about a book that made one cry right away? Or should one wait a bit. I am going to try for right away....<div><br /></div><div>"The Illuminator" by Brenda Rickman Vantrease is, I gather, a first novel - which surprises me. The plotting is so perfect with rarely a wasted scene that one would suspect it to be the work of a seasoned author. Many figures of late 14th century England are either participants or in the shadows. John of Gaunt's palace sacked, Boy King Richard meeting with the rebels - these events are background colors in this intricate painting of a book that has at its core a painted altarpiece done by an artist in captivity.</div><div><br /></div><div>The anchoress Julian of Norwich is a prominent person, with her vision of the Mother Love of Christ shining through the events of the story. This permeation makes me want to explore the stories of female mystics of the time. And Wycliffe's influence is shot through the text both in the efforts at the translation of the Bible into English and a result of mob rule without respect for the established Church. It is altogether a rippling time of convulsive change, a fine era to explore by reading an architecturally fine novel.</div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-52350600626920739562010-01-23T17:54:00.000-08:002010-01-23T18:32:30.340-08:00Stoke Field<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnx1NeLwcHIfy22TF1NHJNG6bVHWuCe_6qULo7LYncWLLgybRcNAt90VaikhS0cIsSOO3gqbmvV-9WK5tpbZRZ65lxfPBzsWmtZQ7sHQkqHnSLQRE1KUT9CtsV4eOj6OYQroP75JaZkWNb/s1600-h/Stoke_Memorial_Stone.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnx1NeLwcHIfy22TF1NHJNG6bVHWuCe_6qULo7LYncWLLgybRcNAt90VaikhS0cIsSOO3gqbmvV-9WK5tpbZRZ65lxfPBzsWmtZQ7sHQkqHnSLQRE1KUT9CtsV4eOj6OYQroP75JaZkWNb/s200/Stoke_Memorial_Stone.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430128619197876210" /></a><br />Soon I will be traveling to England for a stay of two weeks, basing in York. At this point my main concern will be in the visiting of battlefields at least relatively close to York. With this in mind, I am turning to accounts of pertinent battles and have just finished "Stoke Field - the Last Battle of the Wars of the Roses" by David Baldwin. Particularly enjoyable is his device of using quotes from early sources in the original diction and spelling.<div><br /></div><div>Stoke is a fine "what-if" battle, between the newly conquering Henry VII who is fighting an uprising led by the Earl of Lincoln, a Plantagenet heir in support of the pretender Lambert Simnel. Lincoln's army is a compound of Swiss/German mercenaries, Irish recruits, English lords who had much to gain from overthrowing the current ruler, and professional archers and other soldiers. Henry's Royal Army appears to have been more homogeneous. The Earl of Oxford was his principal leader, and Henry's wing of the army was in support of the main forces led by him. Apparently the battle surged for three hours or more, with the rebel lines finally breaking down and its soldiers put to flight and in the main, death.</div><div><br /></div><div>What if the Pretender had won, and the Earl of Lincoln had become king? The Tudor dynasty never to have happened, and Henry Tudor relegated to a blip in the Wars of the Roses, which probably would have continued? Of course what-ifs of history are as useful as they are in one's personal life - that is to say a mere exercise with little real import - but fun to run through.</div><div><br /></div><div>I would like to see this battlefield, but we will not have access to a car - perhaps we can hire someone to take us there.</div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-78711882931620204382010-01-13T15:34:00.000-08:002010-01-13T16:48:38.323-08:00Owen GlendowerI wish to write a little about a book I have only read 17 pages of. Since the number of pages of said book is pushing 750, it would seem quite premature to write anything at all. So ist may be. Anyway, the book is "Owen Glendower" by John Cowper Powys, an author I stumbled into while looking for fictive works concerning Henry V.<div><br /></div><div>Is it the thorough and well rounded diction of the work? I don't know, but Powys has been declared by some to be the English Dostoevsky or Tolstoy. The first chapter, about the homecoming to a place he had never been before of Rhisiart, a young Oxford scholar. He so far is plunging into his Welshness as he approaches an ancestral castle. The scentences rumble and bump along, descriptions are to savor.</div><div><br /></div><div>I will attempt to post my experience reading this book - and learning about Wales in the early fifteenth century.,</div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-21661328049194641982009-12-05T18:32:00.000-08:002010-01-03T12:49:14.620-08:00Elizabeth of York<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKWreP7yIpgkmw8uX4kmZxjAf1NHJMKIv6rI-2UOM6Rkom1ghLgmudNSN9zj_jgB6zCvp61gaQqcySTjUbxiNLGg0C7QinyGj46i-vUsG1joIKJF15Wpe7F6iL7NMbaM4JsmQFrLLackXK/s1600-h/Elizabeth_of_York,_right_facing_portrait.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 161px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKWreP7yIpgkmw8uX4kmZxjAf1NHJMKIv6rI-2UOM6Rkom1ghLgmudNSN9zj_jgB6zCvp61gaQqcySTjUbxiNLGg0C7QinyGj46i-vUsG1joIKJF15Wpe7F6iL7NMbaM4JsmQFrLLackXK/s200/Elizabeth_of_York,_right_facing_portrait.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422618456183862290" /></a><br />Elizabeth of York appears to be chiefly known for being the daughter, sister, niece, wife, and mother of kings. How could a queen be more family connected and oriented? These happenstances are definining in how she is seen in a medium depth historical novel I recently finished called "The Tudor Rose" by Margaret Campbell Barnes, whose work has been reissued of late, which body was originally written in the late 40s to early 50s.<div><br /></div><div>Elizabeth spends an awful amount of time preoccupied with other's needs to the exclusion of her own. She acquiesces in a joyless marriage because she has no choice, and, because she has always sublimated her desires, this is done without lasting regret. Her sheerest happiness comes at the sight of her son Harry (to be the 8th). </div><div><br /></div><div>In another novel of this first Tudor Queen, "The King's Daughter" by Sandra Worth, her connection to Richard III is more deeply imagined, and Henry VII is much more menacing. The royal pair's firstborn, Arthur, is Elizabeth's core <i>raison d'etre,</i> and the gushing over him is the more poignant because his eventual death, most probably known to the reader, lurks in the consciousness throughout. Henry to be VIII is much more darkly drawn, as a boy reveling in the suffering of others, a source of deep worry to his mother. </div><div><br /></div><div>The two treatments of Elizabeth may be indicative of the times when the novels were written. Elizabeth's suffering seems to be the defining factor of her life, with love lost being the central cause in the current rendition, whereas her strength and attention to duty is paramount in the Barnes novel. The Barnes novel, written during early postwar Britain, stresses the duty angle, and the American author stresses Elizabeth's response to her sufferings.</div><div><br /></div><div>The three Elizabeths, the Yorkist Elizabeth Woodville, the York/Tudor Elizabeth, and the glorious Tudor Elizabeth her granddaughter span the emergence of England from the internecine strife of the Wars of the Roses to the early modern age styled the Elizabethan, the greatest point in English history to that time.</div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-21044264277636892892009-10-25T13:03:00.000-07:002009-10-25T13:32:04.453-07:00ElizabethA recent trip to Borders (armed with some skimpy coupon - enough to stimulate an outlay of cash) brought two books about Elizabeth, the last Tudor. "Elizabeth and Leicester" by Sarah Gristwood, and "Elizabeth - The Struggle for the Throne" by David Starkey. Together they formed a good introduction to her youth, heart, and reign.<div><br /></div><div>No surprise that she eluded marriage - though for a time it was a very near thing - with her father's disastrous unions, the popular condemnation of her sister Mary's being knotted with Philip of Spain and Mary's hysterical behavior thereby, and the observation of Mary Queen of Scots letting her heart rule her head. Better to be the unattainable as a focus of courtly love affairs. Better to be in control of her status, especially since her youth held dangers, in and out of legitimacy and later the figure around which plots to overthrow the throne throve.</div><div><br /></div><div>Elizabeth, named after her grandmother Elizabeth of York, "vain and clever", was a fascinating sovereign with a taste for the theatrical that stands alongside the great theatrical works and performances of her era. Ferociously educated, deeply thoughtful in her caution, maybe England's greatest ruler. I am glad to have met you through well written popular history.</div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-84152295717441093542009-09-22T17:40:00.000-07:002009-09-22T18:07:21.028-07:00Henry IV, Well MetWell, I have met another Henry, and he is quite fine, at least as presented by Ian Mortimer in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Fears-Henry-IV-Englands-Self-Made/dp/1844135292/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1253667946&sr=8-1">"The Fears of Henry IV"</a>. Was he a sort of bridge between the glories of Edward III and the breakdown of chivalry in the Wars of the Roses? Mortimer makes the case that the Usurpation and the regicide were inevitable, given the history between Richard II and Henry of Bolingbroke. They seem to be complete opposites - Henry a great jouster, Richard unathletic - Richard horrifically insecure, Henry comfortable enough to journey to the Holy Land - Richard totally unable to compromise, Henry able to bend with the wind.<div><br /></div><div>Henry was literally beset on all sides as he survived assassination attempts, put down rebellions in Scotland and Wales (I think I will next look into the heroic Owen Glendower) more than once, rebellions within England with the rallying cry "King Richard is alive!", and later the opposition of his cold hearted son, Henry of Monmouth, who was itching to be Henry V. And there was always the problem of money - the parliament never seemed to make quelling rebellions any easier - causing the royal entourage to be seriously reduced.</div><div><br /></div><div>Henry IV, as presented by Mortimer, was one of those men for all seasons to me, by power of his very survival through stiff odds, and his pragmatism in doing what needed to be done to hold the kingdom together. Though his time as king was brief, he is an object lesson for capable government in very tough times.</div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-34531465743124658802009-08-19T16:34:00.000-07:002009-08-20T18:20:07.545-07:00How Much Change?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih9niIb_zwR7phyphenhyphenj_rpBoHi1nr6by9Q-vESM8gEgRkd9dMGVD0MI_A636GWH6HEqAVLQIuU2nzzrhZqujvj0OJv7A-sQJr11Lp2xHzedjKjs-cSHq3edSA3O9XVZMGKSqRXvNHLBIPDxiX/s1600-h/Ds_of_M.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 174px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih9niIb_zwR7phyphenhyphenj_rpBoHi1nr6by9Q-vESM8gEgRkd9dMGVD0MI_A636GWH6HEqAVLQIuU2nzzrhZqujvj0OJv7A-sQJr11Lp2xHzedjKjs-cSHq3edSA3O9XVZMGKSqRXvNHLBIPDxiX/s200/Ds_of_M.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371834044412771618" /></a><br />I took a flight of fancy during my recovery from my operation last month - read two very pleasant court romances by Susan Holloway Scott - <a href="http://www.amazon.com/French-Mistress-Duchess-Portsmouth-Charles/dp/0451226941/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1250817430&sr=8-1">"The French Mistress"</a> about Charles II's last main squeeze, Louise de Keroualle, and "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Duchess-Churchill-Susan-Holloway-Scott/dp/B000Q66J2G/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1250817547&sr=8-3">Duchess"</a>, regarding Queen Anne's right arm, Sarah Churchill (pictured). They were very easy to read and quite entertaining - and led me to wonder about the evolution of court life in England over the early modern period. Both stories were told in the first person, with just enough color and not too much sartorial detail.<div><br /></div><div>I know little about the period - the weakening of the monarchy due to its unresponsiveness to social movements (could that be?), the rise of Parliament, the prominent placement on the world stage. The nobility did weird stuff with the styling of their hair. The presence of lap dogs...\</div><div><br /></div><div>Perhaps similar to the courtesans of Ancient Greece, the mistresses of Restoration England, at least as Louise is portrayed here, have unexpected political influence. Indeed, Louise is employed as a spy for the court of France. Sarah Churchill, of course, exacted great pull with Queen Anne, though she never acted as a courtesan, marrying as a young lady in waiting.</div><div><br /></div><div>We have here come a long way from Margaret of Anjou's court, dingy as they say, with Elizabeth Woodville appearing far too fetchingly beautiful a lady for comfort, and also the ladies-in-waiting stitching altar cloths in the Tudor court. Seems like Restoration ladies played a ridiculous amount of cards rather than employing their hands at needlework. Their gaming debts remind me of modern credit card debt holes. Somehow the money wasn't real.</div><div><br /></div><div>What was real was the commerce of the nation and its military might. The display of the court remains the same - the concept of show equalling majesty that it did in Tudor England.</div><div><br /></div><div>I realized this post is but ramblings, but historical fiction at its best for me elicits same. I am sure I will read more of Ms. Scott's work.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-27600118434108918612009-08-01T16:38:00.000-07:002009-08-20T18:22:00.152-07:00"The Queen's Sorrow"<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Queens-Sorrow-Suzannah-Dunn/dp/0007258283/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1250817663&sr=8-2">"The Queen's Sorrow"</a> by Suzannah Dunn, gives a portrait of England under Mary Tudor that has thick background brush strokes fronted by delicious detail. With a very deceptive cover, it is marginally about Queen Mary herself, but rather a Spaniard in her Philip's entourage named Rafael. Rafael starts with almost no English and goes through his experience in Tudor London with thoughtfulness. He lodges with an English family that soon goes to the country, leaving a skeleton crew behind, including a housekeeper that is drawn poetically and lovingly by the author and Rafael as well.<div><br /></div><div>Rafael is in England to execute plans for a sundial at court, a paradoxical commission as there seems to be little sun. His preoccupation throughout is going home, an elusive event, even after the sundial project is in jeopardy. Cecily, the housekeeper, has a son, Nicholas, who recalls Rafael's own son in Spain. The story of these three plays out with a backdrop of burnings, which shock Rafael ("They don't burn people in England!").</div><div><br /></div><div>This book drew me in completely, and I felt like I was looking into Rafael's experience fully. Also I acquired a poetical picture of Marian England, a period of which I know little.</div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-88410313420121826192009-08-01T15:38:00.000-07:002009-08-20T18:25:38.222-07:00Two Annes, Different Results<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5LOkgp2fo7DuyKAa3do2ypMYnxc5BELvbQrYKsQZqCpfJjseyuOY7_Abkfy90jl_BnmovrVSURc272Ipt5iDDesWWPYLSlx2SbtPylRPbTKGVSA5WPgV8M7EeW6BGu54RBLks_VjsGChT/s1600-h/Anne_of_Cleves,_by_Hans_Holbein_the_Younger.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5LOkgp2fo7DuyKAa3do2ypMYnxc5BELvbQrYKsQZqCpfJjseyuOY7_Abkfy90jl_BnmovrVSURc272Ipt5iDDesWWPYLSlx2SbtPylRPbTKGVSA5WPgV8M7EeW6BGu54RBLks_VjsGChT/s200/Anne_of_Cleves,_by_Hans_Holbein_the_Younger.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365139820628602994" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8DCDQrpiHoNOThg5cQKNPay8PnRJme6WvZwGukpjY0XsDdhuHJA06gQXEzG4WFiLXA10NLeBj6CGnRZuyrtlx979t82M-jbYLQm4LShz2d_679t1EkeBgUT9yeq5ZQJJTwwXWzMr4WxCH/s1600-h/Anne_boleyn.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 154px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8DCDQrpiHoNOThg5cQKNPay8PnRJme6WvZwGukpjY0XsDdhuHJA06gQXEzG4WFiLXA10NLeBj6CGnRZuyrtlx979t82M-jbYLQm4LShz2d_679t1EkeBgUT9yeq5ZQJJTwwXWzMr4WxCH/s200/Anne_boleyn.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365139601100284786" /></a><br />I must confess to a fascination with the wives of Henry VIII, though their stories be a century along from my area of greater interest (Lancaster and York). Our century is a huge distance from the 19th, but I have yet to learn how different the 15th and 16th centuries were in practice. In any case, it was easy to read two novels about two Annes,<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Concubine-Novel-Norah-Lofts/dp/1416590900/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1250817778&sr=8-1"> "The Concubine"</a> by Norah Lofts, and "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/My-Lady-Cleves-Novel-Henry/dp/1402214316/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1250817888&sr=8-1">My Lady of Cleves"</a> by Margaret Campbell Barnes.<div><br /></div><div>Anne Boleyn, briefly "The Most Happy" and Anne of Cleves, for awhile the least happy. Of all the wives, Anne of Cleves, initially called the Flanders Mare by her boorish self centered royal husband, and deeply insulted, turned out to be the only one who left Henry with her head and a comfortable home intact. The comparison between their respective visages is deceptive, the old story of the lack of the surety of surfaces. In Anne Boleyn's case, Henry is enchanted with a vivacious sprightly young thing, and in Anne of Cleves' case, he falls for what he sees in a portrait. He falls out of love in both cases, cruelly so, and all in a moment, as both authors describe the Annes' individual catastrophes.</div><div><br /></div><div>Both of these women are presented very sympathetically, and it is interesting to speculate how their lives would have played out if they hadn't fallen under the royal eye. Would Anne Boleyn have been hardened by grief to dip into ambition due to the loss of young love in any case? Would Anne of Cleves have glided in the Flemish countryside unremarked? Anne of Cleves, in the royal bedchamber - "if he only gives me children" she could bear it. Anne Boleyn totally devastated by the birth of Elizabeth, and crazed under the pressure that was life and death.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have ordered a biography of Jane Seymour, so my preoccupation with the wives will continue. What a collection of gutsy women! What a king trapped by circumstance and his view of his place in history.</div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-10541954759174465542009-07-24T15:04:00.000-07:002009-08-20T18:27:22.803-07:00Living In Utopia<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvyiYsrWYibjR9sC6ioaB9-rPf3D8Z9QSRtPeOt6doSKGleM66kmOMKlazD4XBKw_SnuZSTNvWoyqytLxQsQgVmuST62oBcGMPb885LSpYcAVsXuFmOaQiMwPgALbcvxwcK7gnFoL_qpLo/s1600-h/Hans_Holbein_d._J._065.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 159px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvyiYsrWYibjR9sC6ioaB9-rPf3D8Z9QSRtPeOt6doSKGleM66kmOMKlazD4XBKw_SnuZSTNvWoyqytLxQsQgVmuST62oBcGMPb885LSpYcAVsXuFmOaQiMwPgALbcvxwcK7gnFoL_qpLo/s200/Hans_Holbein_d._J._065.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362159022029090146" /></a><br />A King and his Chancellor, Henry VIII and Thomas More - their collision is a story that I have been taken by for decades now - I saw "A Man for All Seasons" as a teenager, and just now finished <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Kings-Confidante-Daughter-Thomas-Tudors/dp/030734620X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1250817987&sr=8-1">"The King's Confidante"</a> (previously issued as "St. Thomas' Eve") bye the Mistress, Jean Plaidy.<div><br /></div><div>She has taken the far famed homestead at Chelsea and made it into a sort of utopia, with all living in harmony with animals and plant life, from the bustling Dame Alice, More's second wife (who acts as a foil with her worldliness set against his erudition), to itinerants who find a place at their table. It is a wondrous microcosm centered on More and his children, both natural and adopted, and their spouses, humble and ambitious.</div><div><br /></div><div>More serves his sovereign reluctantly, ghosting Henry's tract against Martin Luther, pointing out constellations to the King and Queen Catherine, all the while regretting his time away from his family as the children grow up happy in his regard. He for a time fills a need of Henry's to have intellectuals around him, and ultimately can't fulfill Henry's need for his approval of what he did to ensure the succession, that is turning the English Church to his rule as it's head. No, Thomas could not come out in favor of the divorce. His silence had to be shown to be assent. </div><div><br /></div><div>Anne Boleyn has a background part and Thomas More is empathetic, realizing that her hold on life is as tenuous as his. It is enjoyable to read enough Plaidy to have characters walk out of one book into another.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thomas More was a huge hero of mine in my teenage years. Now I know his story had not that simple purity of explanation. He was a heretic hating zealot, and did wrestle with Will Roper, his son-in-law in a way over Will's beliefs that seems unreasonable to me, with his dear daughter Meg torn between them. Dame Alice spoke of his pride in refusing to approve the divorce, and the more I think of it, the more I see her point. It is justice vs expediency, martyrdom vs the middle road. Perhaps his family would not have loved him as deeply as they did had he taken that middle road. In the end, he had no choice, really, as so many victims of Henry VIII found.</div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-69535226858559985152009-07-12T18:10:00.000-07:002009-07-12T18:44:51.041-07:00King John - A King BesetThere are fewer books more pleasant than those that draw you in to dispel your set of preconceptions and received hardened assumptions about a historical figures. At least I think this to be true after reading "The Maligned Monarch" by Alan Lloyd (1972) a biography of King John with a difference - the presentation of this dark king as not so bad after all.<div><br /></div><div>John was hampered by a prejudiced press of clerical dudes - he couldn't do anything right by them due to the complicated relationship between he, his archbishops, and his pope. Following a king that hardly acknowledged England as somewhere important (Richard), John was to travel the country coast to coast, in peace time as an adjudicator and as a the Royal Commander in the war against the 25 barons. Many of the myths regarding John were fanciful fabrications by such as Matthew Paris, a chronicler always looking for a good story.</div><div><br /></div><div>John made some serious mistakes, including starving a noblewoman and her son to death, but Lloyd asserts that he was quite the man of his rough times. Jean Plaidy's "Prince of Darkness" set out all the horrific stories chapter by chapter - and I am glad I read her take before this biography, as Lloyd refuted each horrific story in turn.</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh and then there was the baronial war and that Magna Carta thing - a charter celebrated far beyond its due - only affecting freemen (one-quarter of the population) for one thing - and that warm day at Runnymede didn't solve the differences between baron and king. John kept his side of the bargain and seemed to bend backwards to try to bring peace to his land under his control.</div><div><br /></div><div>Why is Richard the Lionheart celebrated as chivalrous although he shafted his Queen Berengaria, and John, by account a loving husband with a brood of children to carry on in the 13th century, is vilified as a faithless womanizer? It is all in the propaganda of the times. </div><div><br /></div><div>Another note - John inherited a financial mess after Richard bankrupted the nation when it collected untold riches to ransom him after his capture in Germany. Henry VI inherited a financial mess after Henry V all but bankrupted England in search of chivalric empiric glory. Glory takes money, but such a cost.</div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991524889696721261.post-80404314427997580102009-07-05T05:30:00.000-07:002009-08-20T18:29:16.466-07:00A Secret AlchemyLet me say first that <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Secret-Alchemy-Novel-P-S/dp/0061714720/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1250818096&sr=8-1">"A Secret Alchemy"</a>(by Emma Darwin) is a moving trance-like work of historical and contemporary fiction. Presenting parallel unfoldings of the tragic story of Anthony Woodville at the mercy of Richard of Gloucester (Richard III) and of the heart-twisting homecoming of a professor of history studying the books of Anthony and his sister Queen Elizabeth (Woodville), this work left me breathless.<div><br /></div><div>There is a leap from the study of the books in their possession to a narrative revealing how Anthony and Elizabeth felt about the cruel blows of irreversible history as they walk toward their fates. Their story is laid out alongside Professor Una's leap from living in childhood memory connected to a professional press to her discoveries of the intricacies of her own past, including both that of the press that is in a position to be saved from ruin, and also her connection with one Mark who, though an outsider to the press, is a man central in its story. Books are life. The alchemy is the leap.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anthony Woodville is noble, sympathetic, a martyr among many to being on the wrong side when that side changes with time. Elizabeth, who impresses me more in each novel she appears in, is faced with the worst torture of all, that of not knowing the fate of her prince children. The 15th century characters are breathing, as well as those in the 20th century. The descriptive language is well done, to be savored. The story is strong, especially in its conclusions. This book must be the best of the fictive attempts to solve the riddle of the Princes in the Tower.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09566395146321751551noreply@blogger.com3