VIII by H M Castor

VIII is the story of Hal: a young, handsome, gifted warrior, who believes he has been chosen to lead his people. But he is plagued by the ghosts of his family's violent past and, once he rises to power, he turns to murder and rapacious cruelty. He is Henry VIII.

The copy for VIII states that it will do "for Henry what Hilary Mantel did for Thomas Cromwell - VIII is Wolf Hall for the teen and crossover market." I don't dispute that VIII most certainly introduces the life of VIII, but I have definite misgivings about the novel.

Key amongst these is the pacing of the novel. Over half of VIII tackled the early life of Henry and his marriage to Catherine, after the death of his brother. The remaining half showed the rest of his reign and the other five wives. In a novel that only just tips 300 pages, that is far too much to try and squeeze into the final half of the book. It made for a very rushed narrative, where Castor was unable to really showcase the way in which Hal changed from charming young man to absolute tyrant. When this came after such a leisurely opening, it caused me to catch my breath. It also meant that whole swathes of Henry's reign were not even touched upon - the whole monasteries malarkey wasn't even mentioned, and I believe this could and should have been added to the narrative.

The other facet of VIII that I didn't enjoy much was the ghost story/horror element. You have here one of the most famous personalities of all time; one of the most horrific tyrants; one of the most boisterous and downright larger-than-life monarchs - VIII didn't need any embellishments of this sort. It could have stood on its own two feet simply telling the crazy story of this King who beheaded two of his wives and divorced two others; destroyed the monasteries and introduced himself as the Head of the Church. Who needs ghosts when you have all of that actual material?

Lastly on the negative front, I found the style of writing a little odd - first person, but in a present tense e.g. "It's a beautiful morning, and the sunlight makes a halo around my mother's figure as she walks." Because this is such an unusual narrative choice in the novels I read, I found it jarring and that feeling never entirely left me.

Despite this failings, I still found myself entertained enough to read through VIII. Skipping the 'boring' bits and focusing on the soap opera style relationships and tensions of Henry's life definitely made it an interesting read. Castor has a nice flair for narrative (aside from the POV choice) and, for younger readers, it provides a good stepping on point for historical fiction. It has enough historical accuracy to appeal, and presents a decent perspective of Henry and how he became the tyrant we all know.

VIII is a decent stab at historical fiction for younger readers - and, in fact, one of the main failings was not being longer, so that Castor could do justice to the life of Henry VIII. Having said that, through personal preference I'm not sure I could read a longer novel from first person present tense perspective! Castor effectively showcases the monster that Henry is believed to have been, from arrogant young boy through to a man who truly believes he is God's hand on earth. An effective, although rushed, novel.

Queen of Kings by Maria Dahvana Headley

What if Cleopatra didn’t die in 30 BC alongside her beloved Mark Antony? What if she couldn’t die? What if she became immortal? Queen of Kings is the first instalment in an epic, epoch-spanning story of one woman’s clash with the Roman Empire and the gods of Egypt in a quest to save everything she holds dear.

As Octavian Caesar (later Augustus) and his legions march into Alexandria, Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt, summons Sekhmet, the goddess of Death and Destruction, in a desperate attempt to resurrect her husband, who has died by his own hand, and save her kingdom. But this deity demands something in return: Cleopatra's soul. Against her will, Egypt's queen becomes a blood-craving, shape-shifting immortal: a not-quite-human manifestation of a goddess who seeks to destroy the world. Battling to preserve something of her humanity, Cleopatra pursues Octavian back to Rome - she desires revenge, she yearns for her children - and she craves blood...

It is a dangerous journey she must make. She will confront witches, mythic monsters, the gods of ancient Greece and Rome, and her own, warring nature. She will kill but she will also find mercy. She will raise an extraordinary army to fight her enemies, and she will see her beloved Antony again. But to save him from the endless torment of Hades, she must make a devastating sacrifice.

Queen of Kings, by Maria Dahvana Headley, should have been a book that I adored. It has a fantastic premise; it involves one of the strongest female characters from history; it has both Egyptian and Roman flavour (some of my favourite periods of history); and it includes a cover quote from Neil Gaiman. I should have been proclaiming my love of this book from the rooftops - and yet...

I liked it, but didn't love it. Headley's prose is dark and elegant, and her imagination is vivid. The tale comes across very much as an historical epic such as The Odyssey or The Iliad. It is fantastical and gripping in many ways, but at times I found myself turning the pages only because I had read so far and ought to at least finish, which is not what I envisaged when I started Queen of Kings.

Despite the fact that Queen of Kings is deemed to be meticulously researched, I found that Headley didn't imbue her writing with a true feeling of the time period. Egypt could be exchanged wholesale for Rome, with no issues. I didn't see any of the colour and attitude of the Egyptian people. Certain historical facts seemed to be thrown in just because Headley had discovered it, not because it fit that particular scene. I especially disliked a couple of situations where characters told other characters myths and legends that were incredibly dry and felt as though they'd been taken from Mythology 101.

Added to this, I completely failed to engage with Cleopatra as a character. Now, this is a Queen who ruled at a time when women were deemed only fit for childbearing. She seduced famous generals of the time. She was romantically associated with two of THE most famous Roman personalities: Mark Antony and Julius Caesar. This is a woman who doesn't need any real dressing up to be fabulous and interesting and someone who should leap from the page. Unfortunately, Cleopatra in Queen of Kings is relatively lifeless (and I don't intend any pun there...) I couldn't understand her motivations at all - at one point she seems entirely focused on Mark Antony, then suddenly her children are what she is concerned about.

Like I say, Headley's writing is very skillful and hence I'm sure there are others who will adore this dark fantasy about Cleopatra - in fact, this review details many of the plus points from another reviewer's point of view. For me, the characterisation of this famous queen was lacklustre and I didn't "feel" the historical aspect. If you have any interest in Ancient Egypt, then do yourself a favour - pick up River God by Wilbur Smith and avoid Queen of Kings.

Blog Tour: VIII by Harriet Castor

Today I am pleased to be part of the blog tour for VIII by Harriet Castor. The other tour participants are as follows, so make sure you check any you might have missed:

(Click to embiggen!)

This is the blurb/info as lifted from Amazon UK - VIII is published on 1st October 2011!

VIII is the story of Hal: a young, handsome, gifted warrior, who believes he has been chosen to lead his people. But he is plagued by the ghosts of his family's violent past and, once he rises to power, he turns to murder and rapacious cruelty. He is Henry VIII. The Tudors have always captured the popular imagination, but in VIII, Henry is presented fresh for a new generation. H M Castor does for Henry what Hilary Mantel did for Thomas Cromwell - VIII is Wolf Hall for the teen and crossover market. The contemporary, original writing style will have broad appeal and VIII brings the tension of a psychological thriller and the eeriness of a ghost story to historical fiction.

Finally, a very warm welcome to Harriet...

Writing my new book VIII, a YA novel told through the eyes of Henry VIII, took a huge amount of research. I’m not complaining – I loved every bit of it. But today I wanted to tell you a little about some of the more… well, unusual aspects of the research process.

You’d expect me to have read great tomes on Tudor history, to have studied documents, visited palaces and consulted experts on everything from costumes to archery techniques, wouldn’t you? Yes, you’d be right.

But how about my endless obsessive watching of Elton John videos (or rather, two in particular)? How about my mining of Youtube for clips of Robert Downey Jr and John Malkovich? How about studying a huge in-depth biography of Elvis Presley?

No, I’m not mad. Don’t start backing away. Look, I’m a trained historian. Cambridge University, BA, First Class – honest! Let me rummage for my certificate…

You see, I wanted to steep myself in the detail of research, the known facts, the contemporary maps, the historians’ theories, the politics, the policies – all that. But I needed to find the emotional reality of Henry’s story too. This, for me, is a very different process. Because although historical research enables you to make the past vivid and present to yourself, at the same time it highlights the differences between the past and your own world. This is, of course, very necessary – you need to be aware of these differences, work with them, dig into them for insights. But, but. At the same time, because I was writing VIII in the first person, speaking in Henry’s voice, I needed to forget those differences and bring Henry closer… I needed to become him. And above all, I needed to get that Holbein image – of Henry standing arms akimbo, bearded and jewelled – out of my head. I could not inhabit an icon. I had to make Henry a human being.

Take, if you can, a couple of minutes to watch the video below. It’s a fantastic film made by the artist Sam Taylor-Wood of Robert Downey Jr lip-synching to Elton John’s song I Want Love. Downey is alone in palatial surroundings; to me the film speaks viscerally, immediately, of the loneliness of power. And of how easily it can push you into strange states of mind. Downey – or Henry, as he was to me when I was writing VIII – looks hard yet vulnerable, cold yet emotional… and dangerous. Here’s the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ufbexgPyeJQ

Completely by chance, another video I found hugely useful was also an Elton John one – here it’s Justin Timberlake doing the lip-synching, to This Train Don’t Stop. It’s a brilliant portrayal of the isolation and disconnection of the constantly accompanied ‘star’ (as Henry was in his own day). How, it makes me ask, can such a person remain emotionally undamaged? What madness must it be to live in that situation and have no one (pretty much) to check you, to have life-and-death power over everyone around you? Surely that sort of power must be a hellish, lonely trap? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SsuHAn54wPs

When Henry was young he was handsome, charismatic, ridiculously talented. Constantly surrounded by a gang of male friends and hangers-on. Yet, inside, he was in many respects child-like and insecure. Here, Peter Guralnick’s monumental and brilliant 2-volume biography of Elvis came in. Of course Elvis didn’t develop into the monster that Henry became – but, in a radically different time and place, he shared so many of Henry’s natural advantages, and he did manifestly fail to cope with his power and success. How could his story not be relevant to my study of Henry?

John Malkovich’s meltdown in the Coen brothers’ film Burn After Reading put flesh, for me, on Henry’s rage, while a particular scene with Robert Downey Jr and Nicole Kidman in the film Fur epitomised one of Henry’s relationships. Another scene with Robert Downey (him again! My casting for Henry, you see) in The Singing Detective conjured Henry’s grief – these were visual, emotional talismans that I came back to time and time again as I was writing.

The real creative alchemy happens inside the writer, of course. It’s no use trying to stitch together moments from other works – and I don’t in any way mean to suggest that that’s what I was doing. These film and video talismans inspired me as a piece of old glass or a walk by the sea or a painting might inspire… and I have no notion whether anyone else can see, in what I watched, what they signified for me. Perhaps it’s too deeply personal. But I hope, in reading VIII, that you might appreciate the results.


www.hmcastor.com
Twitter: @HMCastor

Thanks so much for stopping by, Harriet!

Guest Book Review: Kylie Grant reviews Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood

Back in college when I did English Literature I studied The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. As is the case with most study texts such as this we seemed to dissect every word and I ended up disliking the book intensely. Unfortunately that experience has deterred me from picking up any more of Margaret Atwood's work, so I was particularly pleased when Kylie Grant offered me a review of Alias Grace, since I feel my readers are the sort who would like a judgement on whether to read this lady author or not!

Here is Kylie's review:

Margaret Atwood’s Alias Grace tells the story of Grace Marks, an Irish Immigrant convicted at the age of sixteen to life imprisonment for murdering her employer, Thomas Kinnear, and Nancy Montgomery, his housekeeper and mistress in the early 1800s. At the time the novel begins, Grace has already served many years in prison and also been sectioned in an asylum, for violent and wild behaviour, and it is now up to Dr. Simon Jenkins, on behest of a community group that believe in her innocence, to finally make a decision about Grace’s guilt. Based on a true story, this captivating and disturbing novel depicts life in the nineteenth century, and explores the boundaries of sanity that lie within us all.

Alias Grace is every bit a Margaret Atwood novel. From the elicit detail to the changing narrative perspectives, it very much feels like you know who is pulling you in and unwilling to let you go until the very end. The first chapter is testament to this; a chapter that opens with a dream and ends with the ambiguous word, story, as if nothing about this novel is true, despite its grounding in a real life case. However, it does more than just direct the reader to whether Grace Marks will speak the truth in the novel, it also allows the reader to breathe, to imagine and to let go. Nothing is true, or nothing can be said to be true, judgements are therefore not wanted here; let your imagination do the work. This is why I have grown to love Margaret Atwood, one of the few novelists writing today who is brave enough to minutely detail a story, but in the end let the reader decide for themselves on how it is to be understood.

The novel, through Grace Marks’ perspective, details of the reported trial, and then Dr. Simon Jenkins’s narrative takes the reader through Grace Marks’ childhood, voyage over to Canada, her first experiences of employment as a maid, her close friendship with Mary Whitney (whose name she would use as her alias), her change of employment and life working for Thomas Kinnear, and her relationship with James McDermott, the man who was hung for the crime they were both convicted of committing. It is not a fast paced novel, the period details are thorough, and at times the shifting perspective slows the story down, however, as a reader you grow to enjoy the meticulousness of the narrative, and the depth you feeling you have towards the main characters, and there are also some shocking moments that rival any thriller.

For anyone who likes mystery the novel has plenty of it, the narrative will keep you guessing and Atwood leads you down lots of avenues of thought. In the end though, this book is all about belief. If you believe in the characters enough you will feel intimately connected with them, and willing to journey to the ends of sanity and back to understand them. It is also about Grace’s belief in Simon, can this eager psychiatrist really hold the key to her freedom? And then Simon’s belief in Grace, does he truly believe she is innocent, is he willing to forgo his scientific rationality, or his own belief in sanity? Do we as readers believe Grace Marks’ story, and if not, how far are we willing to be pulled along; just as Atwood is constructing a tale, how much is Grace guilty of it too? All of these questions Atwood carefully constructs and flirts with, as if we are all on trial and must ascertain what really constitutes our own understanding of truth. It is this, if nothing else, that will keep you reading up until that very last page.

Thanks so much, Kylie!

Guest Book Review: Andrew Reid reviews The First and the Last, by Adolf Galland

Andrew Reid, who runs the blog My God It's Raining and is an active presence on Twitter (also, a founder member of Duckcon!) was kind enough to offer me a rather interesting book review as his guest slot during my absence in Florida. He is here today to review The First and the Last, by Adolf Galland.

The First and the Last is the war memoir of Adolf Galland, a German flying ace who served with the Luftwaffe prior to and during World War II. During his service in the War, he was promoted to General of the Fighter Arm (subordinate only to Göring and Hitler in the operation of the fighter wing of the Luftwaffe) and subsequently demoted back to the level of lieutenant and flight captain at the very end of the conflict. His memoir, translated from the German in 1954, covers exactly the period of his service from the invasion of Poland to the final, frantic actions in the Defence of the Reich.

The very first point to note in reading Galland’s memoir is that it is not a full accounting of the War. Most notably, there is absolutely no mention of the Holocaust, and its absence rings throughout the entire text, especially when Galland praises the tenacity and spirit of the German people in the face of adversity. There is a hint of contrition, perhaps, when he delivers second hand Göring’s sentiment regarding the 500,000 tons of bombs dropped on German cities in the second half of 1944, “The German people are bearing these raids like a chastisement by God”, but generally there is little room in Galland’s writing for apologies.

Whether due to the translation or the natural writing tone of a man more used to drafting military reports, Galland’s memoir makes for an unusual but absorbing read. His youngest brother’s death is given two simple sentences – the first describing him shot down in action, the second recording the number of confirmed kills he had achieved as a pilot – and after that simple aside, we find ourselves back in an in-depth discussion of Luftwaffe tactics and the slow degeneration of the German war machine.

Only the author’s growing frustration with his inability to achieve tactical command of the fighter arm throughout the conflict brings the writing to life, and as the situation worsens for the Luftwaffe, Galland’s anger on behalf of the pilots under his command becomes palpable.

Galland affords enormous respect for the RAF, and it is evident that he spent some time after the War ended researching the battles from the other side. The technical achievements of the RAF engineers and the skill and tenacity of their pilots come up again and again, a neat foil to the difficulties that he continuously faces in his attempts to direct Luftwaffe policy. How much of the memoir is hindsight is debatable, but nevertheless it makes for an excellent counterpoint to a purely Allied perspective.

By far the most interesting thing about the book, the part that makes it (for me, at least) an essential read, is Galland’s attitude to the life of a fighter pilot. Despite the matter-of-fact tone and the dry delivery, Galland comes across as a brave, spirited man whose insane recklessness is only matched by his incredible skill in the air.

April 15 was Osterkamp’s birthday...As a present I packed a huge basket of lobsters with the necessary bottles of champagne into my ME109-F and took off...Again it was too tempting not to make a little detour on the way and pay a visit to England. Soon I spotted a single Spitfire. After a wild chase fate decided in my favour. My tough opponent crashed in flames in a little village west of Dover.

Galland’s beliefs are a carry-over from the days of chivalry. In the theatre of a modern war, the fighter remains to him the sole feat-of-arms. He repeatedly stresses the importance of technical development and overall support from the perspective of a General seeking to maintain air superiority, but when it comes to the fighter pilot, he has only one opinion.

“The soldier of today is impelled more and more to become a mechanic, an engineer, subordinated to the technics and mechanisation of modern warfare. One day the fighter pilot guided from the ground will chase, at supersonic speed, the atom-bomb carrier for scores of miles high up in the stratosphere. But science must not become an aim in itself. Only the spirit of attack borne in a brave heart will bring a success to any fighter aircraft, no matter how highly developed it may be.”

In The First and the Last, Galland’s words evoke an odd feeling of sympathy for the pilots of the Luftwaffe. Overextended and misappropriated, the litany of failures that High Command forced onto them with a series of increasingly delayed and contradictory orders should be celebrated, as it gave the Allies enough breathing space to set about their own offensive and establish air superiority over the German forces. It’s a strange feeling of sadness, then, when the beleaguered Galland, seeing the planes circling overhead ready to commandeer the jets of Jagdverband 44, sets fire to his own ME-262 in the closing moments of the War.

Guest Blog: Colin Falconer, author of SILK ROAD

Today I would like to welcome to Floor to Ceiling Books one Colin Falconer, whose novel SILK ROAD will be published on 1st October by Corvus Books.

Here is some information about Mr Falconer!

Colin Falconer was born in North London. He drove cabs and played guitar in dark bars before joining an advertising agency. He went on to work for many years as a television and radio scriptwriter, and as a freelance journalist before becoming a full time novelist. His work has been published around the world and translated into seventeen languages. He lived for many years in WA, where he raised two daughters with his late wife, Helen. When writing, he also volunteered with the local ambulance service, describing the experience as "I'd be at my desk typing, then thirty minutes later I’d be crawling into an overturned car.”

He travels extensively to research his novels and his quest for authenticity led him to run with the bulls in Pamplona, pursue tornadoes across Oklahoma, go cage shark diving in South Africa and get tear gassed in a riot in La Paz. To research SILK ROAD he traveled through China along the real Silk Road, a trip that involved Chinese dog smugglers, projectile vomit and faulty steering rods while negotiating U-bends on sheer cliffs. He currently lives in Australia. Find out more about Colin on his website http://www.colinfalconer.net/

And this is the blurb about SILK ROAD:

1260 AD: Josseran is a Christian Knight Templar haunted by a shameful past. Hoping to find redemption in a dangerous crusade from Palestine to Xanadu, he sets out to form a crucial allegiance against the Saracens at the legendary court of Kubilai Khan – the seat of the Mongol Empire.

Instead he finds solace in a warrior-princess from a heathen tribe. Beautiful and ferocious, Khutelun is a Tartar, a nomadic rider of the Mongolian steppe. Although their union is impossible, she finds in him what she cannot find in her own. Parched by desert winds, pursued by Saracen hordes, and tormented by passion,
Josseran must abandon Khutelun if he is to complete his journey, arriving in
Xanadu just as the greatest empire in history plunges into civil war. Winding through the plains of Palestine and over the high mountains of the Hindu Kush, from the empty wastes of the desert to the golden palaces of China, Silk Road weaves a spellbinding story of desire, conflict and human frailty onto a
tapestry of the medieval orient.

Finally, I am pleased to bring you Colin Falconer's guest blog:

I think it was Steve Martin who said, after finishing a screenplay: “I think I did it pretty well, seeing as I only started out with a bunch of blank paper.”
I started out with the picture of a camel silhouetted against a desert sunset.
I have always had a fascination for the Silk Road, the spirit of romance and adventure that it conjures. It inspires visions of caravanserais, camel trains, and ancient Cathay.

But a great setting does not make a story; though it does help to set it up. All fiction is about conflict and what was immediately obvious to me was that if I put two western Christians on the Silk Road in the thirteenth century I would be putting two worlds into collision. For a Dominican friar and a French warrior knight to travel to China in 1260 would be the equivalent today of you or I going to Alpha Centauri and meeting alien life for the first time.

Both my western protagonists were defined by the superstitions of their age – they actually thought they would meet ants as big as horses on the way – and also by their religion. The Inquisition had been established just thirty years before and western Europe was about to enter an age when free philosophical thought would be violently and ruthlessly suppressed. And now here were my two protagonists meeting Buddhists, Tibetan lamas, Mongol shamans and Confucians, face to face.

It would only do, of course, that my two protagonists cannot stand each other; one is a terrifyingly orthodox Dominican friar, the other a young French nobleman who has been a very, very bad boy in the past.

Now, I thought; we’re getting somewhere. The story was taking shape in my mind. As a novelist I search out conflict; not just people fighting each other in battles, which is exciting sometimes, but not always that interesting; I also look for conflict of thought and ideas and even better, people tormented by their own conflicts.

By now it was time to add two more characters. Researching the Tatar Mongols was enlightening in many ways. I discovered that they themselves were also in conflict at the time; my priest and my knight arrived in the middle of a civil war between Khubilai Khan and the elected khan in Qaraqorum. This was a war not just about power, but about the very philosophy of what it meant to be a Mongol. This race of horseback warriors had conquered Asia and Arabia and significant parts of western Europe. The empire they had built was staggering. What would they do with all that power?

Then I looked at the conflicts taking place on a tribal level; in doing so, I found that I could invest a female character with conflicts and opportunities few western women at the time would face. When I was at school, I was led to believe the Mongols were savages. But they enjoyed a rich nomadic culture and thought themselves enlightened. They believed westerners to be barbaric and weak, and despised them.

I found their shamanistic beliefs intriguing. They shared many spiritual values with the indigenous peoples of North and South America.

The women had far more personal freedoms than their western counterparts. They were expected to ride and to hunt, would even be accepted as shamans to the tribe. More, they had a voice in who they would marry. (I have described in the book how one of their customs allowed the woman to exercise that choice – very painfully for the man!)

Khutelun remains for me a fascinating character; the question I asked of her and Josseran is still relevant today: do we all have a soul mate? And what if we find them and they are a totally impossible choice?

But this was still not enough. Khutelun fascinated me so much that I wanted to see what she might have become if she had her choices taken away from her. So I researched Khubilai Khan, and discovered that this legendary Tatar khan had allowed his own daughters to be raised in the Chinese tradition. While Khutelun rode a horse before she could stand, Khubilai’s daughters had their feet bound and in fact could barely walk. Instead of hunting wild boar, they was primped and painted and cosseted away in his golden pagodas.

This is how Miao-yen was born in my mind; in her heart she wanted to be a Tatar, not a Chin. More conflict.

By this stage I reckoned I had a good novel in the works; everyone was faced with stark and impossible choices, and I found ways to raise the stakes and make it even worse for them. These dramas would be played out against a magnificent changing backdrop of Asian mountains and deserts.

I even discovered that Coleridge’s legendary Xanadu was not just opium-inspired fantasy. There was such a place, Shang-tu, just north of modern-day Beijing; it was once Khubilai’ Khan’s summer capital, and contemporary descriptions exist.
So now I had enough to start planning my novel. What I wanted to ask my reader was: what do you think? Is all religion and philosophy a result of intellectual conviction or just an accident of birth? And why do we choose the people we love - would you have made the same choices Josseran and Khutelun made?

And what is the nature of good and evil? (with some help from my Dominican friar.)

I experienced a real sense of achievement when it was done. Like Steve Martin said: I like to think I did all right, seeing as I only started out with a camel silhouetted against a sunset!


Thanks so much, Colin, for stopping at Floor to Ceiling Books!

YouTube Interview with Maria Dahvana Headley - author of Queen of Kings

A little while ago I was contacted by Ben Willis, one of the fabulously hardworking peeps over at Transworld, and he asked if I wanted to submit some questions to Maria Dahvana Headley to be used for an interview. Did I! I am utterly desperate to get to Queen of Kings - it is hovering near the top of my 'must-be-reviewed' pile. I've seen some stunning reviews of this book, including this one, and that only makes me more keen. So I said yes. And today Ben directed my gaze to this here YouTube clip of the questions I asked, beautifully presented within shots from the book trailer that has been favourably looked upon. Maria Dahvana Headley is very beautiful, clearly very talented, and answers my questions with grace and humour. Enjoy!



Queen of Kings by Maria Dahvana Headley is available from all good bookshops right now!

Sea Witch by Helen Hollick (self-published)

The time: the golden age of piracy – 1716. The Place: the Pirate Round – from South Africa to the Islands of the Caribbean. Escaping the bullying of his elder brother, from the age of fifteen Jesamiah Acorne has been a pirate, with only two loves - his ship and his freedom. But his life is to change when he and his crew unsuccessfully attack a merchant ship off the coast of South Africa. He is to meet Tiola Oldstagh, an insignificant girl or so he thinks - until she rescues him from a vicious attack, and almost certain death, by pirate hunters. And then he discovers what she really is; a healer and a midwife - and a white witch. Her name, an anagram of "all that is good." Jesamiah and Tiola become lovers, despite her guardian, Jenna Pendeen’s disapproval, but Stefan van Overstratten a Cape Town Dutchman, also wants Tiola as his wife, and Jesamiah’s half brother Phillipe Mereno, is determined to seek revenge for a stolen ship and the insult of being cuckolded.

When the call of the sea and an opportunity to commandeer a beautiful ship – Sea Witch - is put in Jesamiah’s path, he must make a choice between his life as a pirate or his love for Tiola; he wants both - but Mereno and Von Overstratten want him dead. In trouble, imprisoned in the darkness and stench that is the lowest part of his brother’s ship, can Tiola with her Craft, and the aid of Roux, Jesamiah’s quartermaster and the rest of his loyal crew, save her pirate? And can she keep Jesamiah safe from another who wants him for herself? From the elemental being that is Tethys, Goddess of the Sea? A charismatic pirate rogue and a white witch - what better combination for a story of romance and high-sea fantasy adventure?

Helen Hollick's novels about Jesamiah Acorne have long been on my radar, self-published or no. The reason for this is that I read all of the historical novels that she wrote and released through a traditional publisher when I was younger - her trilogy about King Arthur, and books about Harold the King. Helen has struggled to get to a point where she was even able to release the Jesamiah books, and eventually decided to self-publish.

And you know what? It is absolutely criminal that her books won't be read by a wider audience. I equate her writing to that of Diana Gabaldon - a slight supernatural bent on what is an historical love story. Jesamiah and Tiola are easily the equal of Clare and Jamie. Sometimes I can see absolutely why people are releasing self-published books - it is the only way that their work will see print. Helen should be snapped up by a traditional publisher!

The reason for this? The quality of the prose, the fabulously strong characters and the sense of absolute fun that imbues the entire text. Helen was clearly having an absolute blast with her lovable rogue of a pirate.

Helen's prose is an absolute joy to read. It flows incredibly well, with some beautiful word choices. It is warm and wise. I loved it in her first novel and I love it now. She certainly bears comparison with Sharon Penman when considering the manner in which she writes.

Anyone who enjoyed the first Pirates of the Caribbean film - and fell a little bit in love with Captain Jack Sparrow - will adore Jesamiah Acorne. He is honourable (as far as it goes), incredibly masculine and has a good heart. Seriously, I go weak at the knees at the thought of him *grins* He is well-matched by Tioma, who is clever and capable. The secondary cast are also written effectively on the whole, although a couple suffered from lack of page time and ended up feeling a bit two dimensional.

The one problem I could foresee with reader's enjoyment of Sea Witch is whether you buy into the white witch aspect of the story. Those going into this expecting a simple pirate yarn/historical adventure will be slightly missold. There is magic - of a sort - and an immortal foe that hovers in the background. The Craft takes centre stage on a couple of occasions. I enjoyed it and feel that there is a market for adding supernatural aspects to historical events, but other people might struggle to suspend their disbelief.

In terms of the self-published aspect: I found some sentences where additional commas wouldn't have gone amiss. There were odd words missing here and there, although the context made it easy to see what should have been present. Honestly, it wasn't much worse than some of the traditionally published books I have read.

This is a high quality work that I would firmly encourage people to pick up. Happily, this is the first in a series of three books (so far) - even more happily, I have the other two waiting for me. I can't wait to meet Jesamiah again!

David by Mary Hoffman

Michelangelo's statue of David is renowned all over the world. Thousands flock to Florence to admire the artistry behind this Renaissance masterpiece, and to admire the beauty of the human form captured in the marble. But the identity of the model for this statue that has been so revered for over five hundred years has been lost ...In this epic story Mary Hoffman uses her persuasive narrative skills to imagine the story of Gabriele, an eighteen-year-old who, by becoming Michelangelo's model, finds himself drawn into a world of spies, politicking, sabotage and murder. Set against the backdrop of Florence, this is a rich, colourful and thrilling tale.

I really like historical fiction. I mean, love it. Especially when fictional characters are used to bring actual historical events to life. So I was enormously happy to realise that Mary Hoffman employs her fictional narrator Gabriele to showcase this volatile period in Florence's history. For me, this enables real empathy with the situation, and I can identify with the motives of the actual personages who peopled the time.

Here we have a Florence that is being overcome by the rifts between the Republicans and the De Medici supporters, who want the city to remain in the hands of one particular family. Hoffman writes elegantly about the historical reasons why Florence is suffering so, and manages - with great talent - to people both sides of the conflict with likeable characters, so that the reader is conflicted as to which is the "right" side. Which, inevitably, is how the people of Florence must have felt at the time.

I would say that this is most definitely YA fiction - in that there are a few scenes unsuitable for younger readers, involving sex and/or violence. But it easily transcends being a book for a particular sex of reader - boys and girls would both find much to enjoy within its pages.

One aspect that I felt was missing was humour. This feels like quite a serious book and, although it presents a serious period in history, Gabriele and Michaelangelo are both young man, and yet come across as far too po-faced. I would have expected more light-heartedness from men like this and it was absent.

This lack of humour is replaced with a genuine love and appreciation for art, which suffuses every page. Hoffman has quite clearly researched her topic but, beyond that, she shows real warmth and affections for the pieces she describes - not least the eponymous David.

Honestly, for anyone who enjoys art, it is rather a thrill to read about the behemoths of the art world Michaelangelo and Leonardo de Vinci - their slight enmity, but respect, for each other; their rather casual attitudes to commissions received; the element of competition between them. It was awesome seeing them brought to life by Hoffman's lively prose.

This is a fairly slight novel by the standards of YA these days, but it is worth the cover price for a real glimpse into a very turbulent part of Italian history. It is thrilling and thoughtful by turn, and is peopled by charismatic characters. Very enjoyable.

Mozart's Last Aria by Matt Rees

The year is 1791 and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is Vienna's brightest star. Master of the city's music halls and devoted member of the Austrian Freemason's guild, he stands at the heart of an electric mix of art and music, philosophy and science, politics and intrigue.

Six weeks ago, the great composer told his wife he had been poisoned. Yesterday, he died.

Nannerl, Wolfgang's estranged sister, returns to Vienna to investigate his death - and discovers a sinister conspiracy that reaches to the very highest echelons of Austrian society.

Never has the structure of a novel felt more important than in Mozart's Last Aria. Matt Rees takes the essence of Mozart's music to weave a plot that showcases musical genius alongside a desperately paranoid and rather naive young man, who just wanted to introduce equality to all levels of society. Rees starts with a difficult opening - as Nannerl hears about her estranged brother's death and starts to learn that he believed he was being murdered through slow poisoning. The central portion of the book is a more thoughtful and reflective period, where Nannerl discovers more about her brother's place in Viennese society. The final, explosive portion of the novel is the triumphant climax of the music - as Matt Rees calls it: "a crime novel in A minor."

It's been a while since I've read a novel that is as cleverly put together as Mozart's Last Aria. I appreciated the rising tension, the slow build as Nannerl starts to put all the clues together.

This would be nothing, though, without the exploration of Mozart's relationships with those close to him - his wife, his children, the Brothers of his Masonic Lodge, and Nannerl herself. This helps the reader to discover the man behind the music.

I loved the parts of Mozart's Last Aria that dealt with the Masons and how Mozart explored the future of the Masonic Brotherhood through the forms of his operatic pieces, particularly The Magic Flute. The Masons could so easily become an over-used device - all dark cloaks and twirling moustaches, but Rees presents them sympathetically, especially the notion of equality.

The only part of the novel that I wasn't sure about were Nannerl's encounters with the Baron Swieten. It did help to explain why the Baron might have been so willing to lend his aid to Nannerl, but I found it to be a little too sensationalist.

This is an entertaining and swift read through the possibility of Mozart being murdered. The mystery of who might be behind the murder - if, in fact, it is such - will keep the reader guessing to the end, and the character of Nannerl is one to be cherished. But the real treasure of Mozart's Last Aria is the appreciation of the man's music, and allows him to take his place as a true virtuoso.

The History Girls

PRESS RELEASE:

The History Girls (http://the-history-girls.blogspot.com) is a new joint blog by writers of historical fiction. 26 first-rate writers are lined up to produce a daily blogpost across a range of subjects in the genre. (photo by History Girl Caroline Lawrence)

Prize-winning, internationally renowned authors of YA historical fiction like Celia Rees ,Theresa Breslin, Mary Hooper and Eve Edwards (a.k.a. Julia Golding) are joined by both writers of historical fantasy for younger readers (Katherine Langrish, Katherine Roberts) and those with a primarily adult readership (Louise Berridge, Emma Darwin).

The group ranges from experienced established authors like Adèle Geras and Nicola Morgan to first-time novelists like Teresa Flavin, H.M. Castor and Imogen Robertson. Among us we cover every period from the Stone Age to World War Two (N M Browne, Leslie Wilson, Barbara Mitchelhill). And every period in between, Including the England of Alfred the Great (Sue Purkiss) the Tudors (Harriet Castor and Eve Edwards), George lll (Linda Buckley-Archer), Victoria (Eleanor Updale, Penny Dolan and Catherine Johnson), . Geographically we range from Iceland to Troy to the Wild West, via Venice and Ancient Rome and Egypt. (Marie-Louise Jensen, Adèle Geras, Caroline Lawrence x 2, Michelle Lovric and Dianne Hofmeyr)

We are going to run competitions to win copies of our books, regular feature on our first History teachers, favourite writers, inspirational objects etc. We’ll have reviews, interviews and guest blogs, from other best-selling authors of historical fiction – maybe even a man or two!

We don’t have a specifically feminist take on History; we just found when the idea was canvassed that the majority of the writers in this genre seemed to be women. The blog, The History Girls, goes live on 1st July, with an introductory post by Mary Hoffman on the inspiration for setting the group up, which she did with Michelle Lovric.

History Girls contributors and their specialisms:

Louise Berridge – Military history, 17th century + Crimea
Theresa Breslin – France, Spain, Renaissance Italy, World War I and World War II
N. M. Browne - 1st C AD (Celts and Romans) 5th Century (Arthur/Romano Brits) and 9th (Saxons/Vikings Alfred the Great.)
Linda Buckley-Archer – George III and the Court of Versailles
H. M. Castor – Tudor England
Emma Darwin – 19th century, Wars of the Roses
Penny Dolan – Victorian England
Eve Edwards - Tudor England
Teresa Flavin - Renaissance and Georgian London
Adele Geras – Ancient Greece and Troy, Victorian and early 20th Century
Mary Hoffman – Middle Ages and Renaiassance in Italy
Dianne Hofmeyr - Ancient Egypt, African History, early voyages of discovery including the dhow trade down the African coast.
Mary Hooper – Victorian England
Marie-Louise Jensen – Viking era, Tudor and Georgian
Catherine Johnson – 18th century and Victorian
Michelle Lovric – 18th and 19th century Venice, Peru
Kath Langrish – Viking era and Middle Ages
Caroline Lawrence – Ancient Rome + Wild West
Barbara Mitchelhill – 2nd World War + Shakespeare
Nicola Morgan – 19th century Scotland
Sue Purkiss – Alfred the Great + 19th century
Celia Rees – 17th and 18th century + Shakespeare
Katherine Roberts – Arthurian, Alexander the Great, Ancient Greece, Ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia/Persia.
Imogen Robertson – Georgian England
Eleanor Updale – late 19th and early 20th century
Leslie Wilson – 2nd World War

With my love for historical fiction, I have immediately followed this blog, and I look forward to supporting their endeavour!

The Queen Must Die by K. A. S. Quinn

The Queen Must Die is a time travel adventure story featuring Katie Berger-Jones-Burg, a young girl from New York who finds herself in the palace of Queen Victoria, at the time when the Crystal Palace was being built. With the help of Princess Alice and a doctor's boy called James O'Reilly, Katie discovers a plot to assassinate the queen and has to try everything to prevent it from coming to pass. But there are sinister figures creeping through the palace at night, and supernatural forces at work - Katie is not the only time-traveller in the city...

On the whole I really enjoyed The Queen Must Die by K. A. S. Quinn. It was exciting, dark in places, and very humorous, but I had a few niggles as I was reading it.

I think the biggest issue is that this novel felt a lot like setting up the idea of time travelling and the forces of good and evil that utilise the art of time travelling. It is the first in a planned trilogy, and therefore a few of the details were slightly sketchy.

The strongest part of the novel was the characterisation. Katie was a fabulously strong voice - a brave and sassy American girl, who is able to use her wits under pressure. She's also presented as being a reader - and, of course, I'm massively in favour of seeing characters like this in children's books! Princess Alice was presented very ably as a product of her time - meek at times, and realising that her place in society is limited by her sex. The comparison that can be made between Katie and Alice shows just how much life has changed for women over the years. James O'Reilly is an excellent foil for both the girls - dour and grumpy most of the time, reluctantly admiring of Katie's tomboy abilities, such as catching balls and climbing.

Quinn wraps historical facts into the story with evident glee and a love for her research. The sweet relationship between Queen Victoria and Prince Albert is written beautifully, including a very touching midnight scene between them as they research their work on desks side by side.

The introduction of supernatural elements was a little of a sideways swerve into a different story. I could quite happily have read more about Katie adjusting to life in Victorian times - that would have made for a very entertaining read - and so I struggled once the 'three children', the Tempus Fugit, were added.

Behind the immediate plot, there was some rather nice discussion on the nature of motherhood and the different approaches; and also how cause leads to effect within time travel stories. Both of these themes were tackled in a way that made it very easy for younger readers to analyse as well.

As I say, on the whole this was a fun little book and I would certainly not object to reading the second in the series. It is suitable for readers 8-12, in my opinion, but older readers would find enough to enjoy as well. An exciting romp through history with a lovely female protagonist.

Guest Post: Robert Wilton, author of The Emperor's Gold

On June 1st Corvus published The Emperor's Gold by Robert Wilton. I have a copy sat at home, with a bookmark partway through, and I am enjoying this historical adventure very much.

Rina Gill offered me the chance to request a guest post with Robert, and I thought it would be particularly interesting to ask him about his influences - especially considering that The Emperor's Gold features a little known organisation called the Comptrollerate-General for Scrutiny and Survey. Sounds a little dry, you might think on first encountering this department, but I loved the fact that the records provided a truly engaging look at history.

Anyway, without further ado, here is Robert:

The Emperor's Gold is an espionage thriller, mysterious and dynamic, but also a great game of history. In that sense the exploits of Tom Roscarrock in the strange summer of 1805, caught up in the activities of the arcane Comptrollerate-General for Scrutiny and Survey and Napoleon's imminent invasion of England, reflect themes that have recurred in my writing and reflect the kind of writing that I have enjoyed reading.

The Comptrollerate-General series was the product of a pretty cynical calculation about what I thought might appeal, but it evolved with styles and ideas and preferences that were instinctive and unavoidable. On Port Isaac beach one night in winter 2008, shingle and sand and the eerie hulks of the fishing boats looming askew around me, I went hunting for ideas for the novel that I had found myself with time to write. From my miniscule awareness of publishing, I was aware that a series would tend to appeal more than a one-off. My interests and strengths would probably push me towards an historical rather than a contemporary setting. Crime? Espionage? Politics? I needed a recurring character, one who through heroism or entertainment would be engaging enough to sell a book and a potential series.

One figure hovered over me in the darkness, laughing with more than a hint of malice. George Macdonald Fraser's Flashman is a fatally appealing model for an author contemplating an historical series. As an inspiration, the Flashman series was simply and unequivocally genius: the wheeze of picking up a famous fictional character and taking him forward was rapidly overtaken (helped by the fact that subsequent generations are less and less familiar with Thomas Hughes's original) by the much more entertaining idea of a character who weaves seamlessly into non-fictional history. Flashman doesn't just exist against a backdrop of history: he inhabits particular historical actions and meetings and, as Fraser's tongue-in-cheek footnoting shows, his presence even fills in gaps in the historical record. The series is a carnival of British imperial history, with drama and adventure and controversy accordingly ready-to-wear. Fraser gave himself seventy years of canvas to play with, and it's an enormous pity that he died before he could describe Flashman's exploits in the Zulu war in more detail, for example, or how he came to fight on both sides in the American Civil War; oh, and the first person narrative is pitch-perfect over a dozen books.

And there's the snag. Flashman's appeal to an author is fatal because he's been done, and I doubt anything like him will be as well done again. All I could contrive on Port Isaac beach were shallower, duller versions of the same thing: what if there was a young politician who had a series of rollicking exploits in the high-points of nineteenth century political history? A detective? A criminal, a... no.

Then I got lucky. I found the Comptrollerate-General for Scrutiny and Survey. My character wouldn't be a person at all. Drawing on the extraordinary documents in the archive of the Comptrollerate-General, I would be able to pull together engaging episodes from several centuries of history. The first period where the documents crystallised into a coherent and dramatic story was the few months leading up to the battle of Trafalgar: a time when the country's future really was on a precipice, when a change in the weather for a few hours would put Napoleon on Dover beach and destroy the British Empire in a day, when French intelligence was infiltrating London and trying to stir up insurrection, when men and women at the heart of British society were making their own private calculations about the future...

The idea was one that I thought would work, and one that I knew I would enjoy. Time and again when I'd been writing short stories I found myself playing with history - the pilot returning after the war to the French village to find out what happened to the woman who'd sheltered him; the journalist trying to make a good story out of an incident at Gallipoli in 1915, and not realising how good the real story had been; the veterans returning to the Somme fifty years later, and at last learning the truth about a cherished myth; the diplomatic intrigue told through a butler's pantry-book. I like it what we think is fiction breaks through a wall into what we're pretty sure is fact. I liked it when Daphne Du Maurier's romance about The King's General turned out to explain a contemporary mystery of a grave inscription and a skeleton; I liked it when Clive Cussler put a decades-old international fight for minerals onto the Titanic; I liked it when the melting of aliens in Doctor Who started the great fire of London.

Three decades of reading influence what I think can be written. Frederick Forsyth has an amazing ability to blur fact and fiction: you start reading one of his chapters and you know you're reading well-known history; within three paragraphs you're among what you're pretty sure are his own characters and narrative, and you didn't see the join. Hilary Mantel makes historical characters and atmospheres vivid in way that opened my mind; she's a constant insistence to be more real, more alive. Len Deighton puts extraordinary fictional doings in the hands of fallible, human people. Alistair Maclean - as well as combining action with mystery brilliantly - reminds you that those people have to be engaging.

It is, after all, a book that needs to be read and to appeal. I'm pulling together the second episode from the Comptrollerate-General archives at the moment, from the strange chaotic years of the British Civil Wars. There's a constant effort to avoid too many 'forsooth's and 'prithee's, but the reader does still need to feel that they're in a different time: the seventeenth century needs to feel human, but the humans need to feel seventeenth century too. Angus, my so-patient Editor at Atlantic/Corvus, remarked that the final scene of The Emperor's Gold sounded a bit like an Agatha Christie-style denouement - 'the crucial clue was...' and so on. The thing is, I had to explain to him, that I really like Agatha Christie-style denouements. That's how books are supposed to end.

END

Thanks so much, Robert! The Emperor's Gold is out now in all good bookstores, and is described as "Patrick O'Brian meets John le Carré, with a hint of Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell". I think it's definitely worth a look.

King Arthur: Dragon's Child by M K Hume

Dragon's Child is the first novel in a trilogy by M K Hume, dealing with the historical version of the tale of King Arthur. Here he is Artorex, and is a cuckoo in the nest of Ector and his Roman wife. Artorex lives a life of mundane servitude, referred to as Lump, until the day three mysterious strangers visit Ector and encourage him to train Artorex in arms, letters and horse skills. His wife Livinia is asked to show Artorex how best to speak to people of high standing. Although he doesn't know it, Artorex is being trained for kingship. Soon enough the day arrives when Artorex is brought before Uther Pendragon and is forced to recognise the destiny he has been steered towards by Myrddion Merlinus.

This is a marvellous piece of historical fiction. It presents a very real idea of life in the tumultuous land of Saxons, Celts and Jutlanders once the Romans had departed. War was rife and the various kinglets kept power over tiny provinces. The minutiae of life in those Dark Age times is brought into vivid existence - from weaponry, to food, to clothing.

When I first picked up this novel, I was convinced M K Hume was a male writer. I discovered it is, in fact, a female novelist - and this surprised me greatly. The reason I say this is because the writing is so strong and capable, and gruff in the manner I associate with male writers. I say this in a complimentary fashion - the encounters and relationships between men are presented with incredible realism.

M K Hume's characters are a highlight of the novel. From Artorex, who is everything a hero should be, to Targo, grizzled old warrior who shows the boy how to live as a proper should, to Merlinus himself - all are written with warmth, humour and dialogue that fits the character. The women are also done well - they are not forced into roles that don't match the time within which the novel is written. They are at the mercy of their families and husbands, considered by some no more than chattel. Despite this, they still shine from the page with compassion and a strength of will that is occasionally missing from their menfolk.

What I liked particularly about the writing is that it feels very organic. Every scene leads naturally from that which goes before, the tale unwinding at a slow but persistent pace. The writing is occasionally floral, but never to the detriment of the story, and I, personally, enjoyed these flourishes.

Up until now, my go-to novels for an historical presentation about King Arthur have been those written by Helen Hollick. I think now, though, that I have a new favourite! My immediate thought on closing the last page? "Thank goodness there are two more books!" For anyone who enjoys meticulously researched and, above all, fun historical novels, this is highly recommended. An excellent read.

Department 19 by Will Hill

Jamie Carpenter is a perfectly normal boy, with a perfectly normal life – until the night his dad dies. Suddenly he doesn’t know what his place is anymore, as his mother moves him from town to town. It seems he cannot take much more when a creature from his nightmares once more turns his life upside down, and forces him into the world of Department 19.

Department 6 is the Army. Department 13 is MI5. Department 19 is the reason you’re alive...

Will Hill’s debut novel Department 19 is a storming read, showing us the world of Jamie Carpenter as he realises that the monsters from the fairytales are alive and living amongst us. It presents a vivid image of a secret governmental department – all James Bond or Spooks - rescuing the civilians from a world they don’t even know exists, with first-class weaponry and insane courage.

Jamie is a very likeable hero – realistically portrayed as he recovers from the death of his father, only to realise that life will never be the same again. His fear, bravery and even the teenage strops are perfectly portrayed, and I think that any teenage boy (or, indeed, girl) will be able to identify with Jamie. The secondary characters are equally well drawn – from Frankenstein (who is brought to life so capably that you never even have a moment where you don’t believe it could be true) to Larissa to the villains of the piece.

And what villains! Did someone say sparkly vampires? With a T-Bone, Hill has wiped them from existence – his vampires are the real deal! No sexy mooning after teenage girls. We have here three dimensional characters, with motivations such as envy, revenge and bitter memories. No two vampires are alike, just as no two people can ever be the same. With villains like Alexandru, you genuinely believe that none of these characters are safe as the blood begins to spill.

I’m not going to lie – blood really is spilled. Daubed. Smeared across most of the pages in Department 19. Vampires and their victims die, alike, in various bloody and imaginative ways. This is a deliciously ghoulish read at times, with moments of horror that might give a child nightmares – but in a Doctor Who manner. They will recall wanting to turn their face away from the page as they read, just as I fondly reminisce now about hiding behind the sofa while watching Doctor Who.

Hill also shows a dab hand at portraying moments from history. Not only do we have the high tech gadgetry of a James Bond film, we also have a London from the 1890s and a 1920s New York – all feel so authentic that I believe Hill could turn in a decent historical novel as well. The historical and military details are all woven into the story subtly, but convey the sheer amount of research that has gone into Department 19.

The prose is smooth and gripping – told so simply and directly that the pages keep on turning. Hill injects a number of moments with real emotional heart, as well as writing action sequences that have the blood pounding.

I am gushing, but with good reason. This book is going to be a phenomenon – you heard it here first. To all those publishers looking for the “next Harry Potter”? Harper Collins have found it in the form of Will Hill’s debut novel Department 19. This is going to be huge. Get in there from the very beginning.

Belle's Song by K M Grant

Belle is the daughter of a bellmaker. When her father suffers a terrible injury that Belle believes is her fault, she decides to join a group of pilgrims - led by Chaucer - who are heading for Canterbury. She is praying for a miracle: that her father will be able to walk again. The journey is not a simple one - Belle is blackmailed by the summoner to spy on Chaucer, who is believed to be taking a message for the King of France, and she is gradually drawn into a web of lies and political intrigue. Add to this her growing attraction for Luke and Walter, two very different young man on the pilgrimage, and Belle faces some difficult decisions.

Belle's Song is a relatively slight little book, and Grant tries to pack so much into the story that I think this novel suffers. I enjoyed all the separate elements: the exploration of the characters on the pilgrimage; the political issues involving the King of England; and the beautiful love story between Belle and Luke - but I thought that any of of these three could have easily been a book in itself, so Belle's Song felt constantly rushed.

The main characters were all very enjoyable to read about. Belle is impulsive yet fragile, confident but not at the same time. Her lustrous red hair and vivid imagination are just small facets of the three dimensional character we're shown. She has the motivations of a girl - dreams of courtly love - and also the duty of a daughter - hoping for her father's recovery. Add into this an element of self-harm which was handled sensitively, and Belle is a very intriguing central character.

Luke and Walter are both suitable matches for our girl Belle - and I loved the dark secret that Walter is carrying. It made for the perfect love triangle.

The burgeoning relationship between these three young characters is definitely the best part of the novel. I also enjoyed identifying the characters from Chaucer's Tale, and I fervently hope that some readers of this book will feel encouraged to go back to the source material. I really appreciate the fact that Grant has used such a vital piece of English storytelling as a jumping off point for this novel.

The only part of the novel that I found very difficult to swallow was the ease by which Belle came face to face with the King, and was able to tell hiim what he should do - considering my medieval reading, this was a little too far-fetched. It served the plot, but caused me to scoff. However, I doubt that this will affect the reading pleasure of many!

Belle's Song is a very sweet little book, with a beautiful cover, and a wonderful love story. I think it would be well worth your time picking up.

Learning From History...

This post kinda links into my previous article about the Huck Finn kerfuffle. In that post I discussed the censorship (or not) of removing all references to the word 'nigger' in future editions of Huckleberry Finn. One of the points I was trying to make is that sanitizing texts written from past times takes away from us some of the pleasure of discovering the perspective of those times.

Here is my example! My family (in their entirety) are involved in Scouting and my dad was given "Scouting for Boys", written by Lord Baden-Powell. This was originally written in 1932, and sets out the guidelines for how Scouts should behave. Back then it was deemed to be a very good handbook on how young men should live their lives. Reading it now provides much inadvertent amusement!

Let me give you some choice quotes - enjoy! (and remember - if we keep trying to pretend history never happened, we will miss out on gems like this, which are very much a product of their time and should be enjoyed as such).

Smoking and drinking are things that tempt some fellows and not others, but there is one temptation that is pretty sure to come to you at one time of another, and I want just to warn you against it.

It is called in our schools 'beastliness', and that is about the best name for it. Smoking and drinking and gambling are men's vices and therefore attract some boys, but this 'beastliness' is not a man's vice; men have nothing but contempt for a fellow who gives way to it.

Some boys, like those who start smoking, think it a very fine and manly thing to tell or listen to dirty stories, but it only shows them to be little fools. Yet such talk and the reading of trashy books or looking at lewd pictures, are very apt to lead a thoughtless boy into the temptation of self-abuse. This is dangerous, for, should it become a habit, it may lead to worse habits. But if you have any manliness in you, you will throw off such temptation at once; you will stop looking at the books and listening to the stories, and will give yourself something else to think about.

Sometimes the desire is brought on by indigestion, or from eating too rich food, or from constipation. It can therefore be cured by correcting these, and by bathing at once in cold water, or by exercising the upper part of the body by arm exercises, boxing, etc. It may seem difficult to overcome the temptation the first time, but when you have done so once it will be easier afterwards.

If you still have trouble about it, do not make a secret of it, but go to your Scoutmaster and talk it over with him.

By the way - these days any references to Scoutmasters has been lost because of the possible connotations of slavery. Yep, we have reached PC madness...

Here is another quote (and, yes, I am childishly bringing you all the toilet humour examples!):

And to be healthy and strong, you must keep your blood healthy and clean inside you. This is done by breathing in lots of pure, fresh air, by deep breathing, and by clearing out all dirty matter from inside your stomach, which is done by having a "rear" daily, without fail; many people are the better for having it twice a day.

And one example that is not toilet-humour-based, but tickled my funny bone (partly because I've experienced what modern day Scouts are like on camp!):

A camp is a roomy place, but there is no room in it for one chap, and that is the fellow who does not want to take his share in the many little odd jobs that have to be done; there is no room for the shirker or the grouser - well, there is no room for them in the Boy Scouts at all, but least of all when in camp.

Every fellow must help, and help cheerily, in making it comfortable for all. In this way comradeship grows. On service, if one fellow is out on night duty getting wet through, one of those left in the tent will be sure to get ready a cup of hot cocoa for him when he comes in, and that is the kind of thing every Scout should think of and carry out.

My last quote from this delightful little tome:

When you are travelling by train or tram, always notice every little thing about your fellow-travellers; notice their faces, dress, way of talking, and so on, so that you could describe them each pretty accurately afterwards; and also try and make out from their appearance and behaviour whether they are rich or poor (which you can generally tell from their boots), and what is their probable business, whether they are happy, or ill, or in want of help.

But in doing this you must not let them see you are watching them, else it puts them on their guard.

It is said that you can tell a man's character from the way he wears his hat. If it is slightly on one side, the wearer is good-natured; if it is worn very much on one side, he is a swaggerer; if on the back of his head, he is bad at paying his debts; if worn straight on the top, he is probably honest, but very dull.

I have loved this little excursion through history - the quaint ideals, the very proper language, the wonderful idea that young lads previously used to obey these rules (most of them anyway *winks*).

This is the sort of publication we are in very real danger of sanitizing out of existence. Let's not lose the joy of learning from history...

Dissolution by C. J. Sansom

It is 1537, a time of revolution that sees the greatest changes in England since 1066. Henry VIII has proclaimed himself Supreme Head of the Church. The country is waking up to savage new laws, rigged trials and the greatest network of informers it has ever seen. And under the orders of Thomas Cromwell, a team of commissioners is sent throughout the country to investigate the monasteries. There can only be one outcome: dissolution.

But on the Sussex coast, at the monastery of Scarnsea, events have spiralled out of control. Cromwell's commissioner, Robin Singleton, has been found dead, his head severed from his body. His horrific murder is accompanied by equally sinister acts of sacrilege.

Matthew Shardlake, lawyer and long-time supporter of Reform, has been sent by Cromwell to uncover the truth behind the dark happenings at Scarnsea. But investigation soon forces Shardlake to question everything that he hears, and everything that he intrinsically believes...

I have had my eye on the Shardlake novels for a little while, beginning with Dissolution - I greatly enjoy historical novels that do more than simply chronicle the events of the time, and murder mystery seemed to fit the bill! Having turned the first page, I found myself instantly caught up in the tale about Matthew Shardlake, gripped by the tight plot and realistic characters.

Sansom writes both lyrically and tautly, with few missteps. The descriptions of the monastery, and Shardlake being trapped within while on the hunt for a killer as snow spirals down outside, felt claustrophobic. Sansom increased the tension and the feeling of terror as the tale unfolded - every character was a source of suspicion, and I was constantly on the hunt for whodunnit.

I loved the way that the historical details were added to the story, woven around the main thrust of the plot. Discussions about Machiavelli, who had just published his novel; marvelling over the double entry being employed by the monks as a new initiative; the new nursing techniques. Sansom made it a joy to find these little gems, which were not the focus of the book, as I have found in other historical novels.

Sansom's characterisation was also very effective - Matthew Shardlake, in particular, is a very realistic character that I empathised with greatly. He is compassionate and clever, but also has many foibles. He sometimes speaks too sharply, and his self-esteem is non-existent. Most of the monks were given three dimensional personalities, with only a couple suffering from weak characterisation.

One flaw I did find (with both characterisation/dialogue) was that many of the characters spoke in a similar fashion with little to differentiate them, which made it hard to follow who was saying what in a conversation that lasted a few pages and where Sansom did not say explicitly who was talking.

I also found Sansom a little too knowing at times, with some of the concepts or thoughts he put into his character's dialogue: "But I fear without the universal church to bind us together, a day will come in this land when even belief in God will be gone. Money alone will be worshipped, and the nation, of course."

C. J. Sansom has brought to life an extremely turbulent period in English history, showcasing the politics and the fear experienced by the common people as they came to terms with the new laws. This is an incredibly strong novel, with an entertaining mystery to be solved by vibrant and realistic characters. I thoroughly enjoyed it and will definitely be picking up more novels about Matthew Shardlake.

The White Queen by Philippa Gregory

1464. Cousin is at war with cousin, as the houses of York and Lancaster tear themselves apart... And Elizabeth Woodville, a young Lancastrian widow, armed only with her beauty and her steely determination, seduces and marries the charismatic warrior king, Edward IV of York. Crowned Queen of England, surrounded by conflict, betrayal and murder, Elizabeth rises to the demands of her position, fighting tenaciously for her family's survival. Most of all she must defend her two sons, who become the central figures in a mystery that has confounded historians for centuries: the missing Princes in the Tower.

I want to put this review in context: I've read what I consider to be the very best piece of historical fiction concerning The War of the Roses in the form of The Sunne in Splendour by Sharon Kay Penman (in fact, I listed this book as probably my all-time favourite book); and I have read previous novels by Philippa Gregory and not been too enamoured of them. With that in mind, it is no real surprise that I found myself disappointed by The White Queen.

The events themselves - true historical events - leave the reader agape. The idea of a widow transfixing a crowned king to the point that he would go against all his advisers and marry her for love is just incredible. At that time in history marriages were used to ally countries, especially between royalty - and Edward IV went against all convention when he married Elizabeth Woodville in secret.

Add to that the quarrels, the betrayals, the battles, the sorrow, and, above all, the mystery of those two little Princes - the heirs to the house of York - and you have a tale fit to entrance anybody. And other authors have certainly managed to make this story of the War of the Roses absolutely gripping.

So why hasn't Philippa Gregory, in my opinion?

My first complaint is the matter of witchcraft. I'm happy to accept that Elizabeth considers herself a descendant of a goddess - there was a great deal of paganism even once Christianity had been taken on board. What I am not happy about are the situations where Elizabeth and her mother influence events through the use of their witchcraft. These were HISTORICAL events! Henry Tudor's fleet was prevented from invading through bad weather - this was not due to witchcraft. I disliked the sensationalism of witchcraft being added to a novel that already had plentiful situations that could be taken with a pinch of salt, but that actually happened.

My second complaint is due to the repetitive nature of several sections of the novel, such as all those occasions when Elizabeth had to watch Edward ride to war. Yes, I know that this happened, but I felt each occasion read in a very similar way. The same happened while Elizabeth was in sanctuary and kept thinking about her two sons, and what might have happened to them.

My third complaint is of a technical nature. I have not read another author recently who used adjectives so flagrantly. Edward smiled boyishly. Elizabeth's mother spoke gently. Elizabeth herself said her words firmly, sadly, softly, you get the idea. It got to the point where I almost found myself laughing, and I don't think Gregory ever intended that reaction!

My fourth complaint is also technical. Most of The White Queen is written in first person, which is effective and allows us to really get to grips with the character of Elizabeth Woodville. However, the period where Elizabeth is confined from public events by staying in sanctuary, Gregory needed to find ways to convey the information about what was occurring elsewhere - and the ways she used I found very clumsy. Sometimes she merely switched to third person instead; sometimes she put the information into Elizabeth's dreams and made it part of the witchcraft aspect that I disliked so much; and sometimes she used messengers, which was actually the most effective, but was used to the point of being repetitive. I think Gregory should either have made it all third person or all first person.

Other than that, The White Queen is relatively competent and reads well. I'm sure that at least one of my complaints is merely a matter of taste and won't even rear its head when another person reads the book, so they are left with a tale rich with historical spectacle. Gregory does pay good attention to historical details, showing with ease aspects of medieval life such as food, clothing and attitudes.

I enjoyed The White Queen to a certain extent, but anyone with an interest in this period should really be picking up The Sunne in Splendour instead. I find that this novel hasn't changed my mind about Philippa Gregory's writing - I consider it rather tired at times, and end up skimming pages. Having said all this, the cliff-hanger ending of The White Queen will make me pick up The Red Queen, and I'm interested to see whether Gregory can achieve the tough objective of writing the same period from a completely different voice.