Chatterbox
09-08-2009, 08:21 PM
Is this historical 'entertainment' -- just plain balderdash? I'm opting for the latter, which is a shame given the author's credentials as a historian.
I'm trying to react to this novel in the spirit that Carolly Erickson suggests in her author's note at the end -- to view it as a 'historical entertainment', as 'whimsy'. But I can't. It's just a bad book, not only because it plays fast and loose with the known facts of history (occasionally reading a bit like a hallucination of what might have been) but because it's not even well-written. The only positive note is that I didn't buy it; a friend of mine who knows that I enjoy historical fiction gave it to me as a gift, and I thought I might as well try it, despite my growing distaste for Erickson's novels.
Good historical fiction, like any work of fiction, starts with the author posing himself or herself the question, "What if..." and continues from there. The winners in this category know their history and respect it, in part because they know that a reasonable degree of historical accuracy is valued by those readers who are irritated by errors and partly because they respect the history themselves, and hope to foster a knowledge and appreciation for it on the part of readers whose introduction to a time in history or a historical figure may come through their book. After a certain point, treating historical fact as if it didn't matter, or just an obstacle in the way of telling a good story, irritates me deeply. Especially when the facts already lend themselves to a lot of interpretation and drama, as countless historical novelists have discovered. "Historical entertainment" increasingly strikes me as a more acceptable way of saying that a lazy writer can't be bothered to play by the rules that others largely stick to, perhaps because those rules might limit sales.
In my opinion, the way all historical novelists except Erickson approach their books leaves a LOT of room to manoeuver. Anya Seton's Katherine, for instance, was based on very flimsy historical records (simply because very little survived); the result is one of the classic books of historical fiction that, while it invents or imagines some episodes, is always true to "what could have been", to what was plausible for the character and the time in which she lived. I've seen recent books that suggested Elizabeth the 'Virgin Queen' was no virgin at all and even that she might have become pregnant by either Thomas Seymour or Robert Dudley. I personally think that's unlikely, but we can't know. We simply don't have and can't have that information, and because of that, it's fertile ground for a novelist to go to work with their imagination. Similarly, the fate of the princes in the Tower is wide open for speculation.
What persuaded me to write this review were some comments by an Amazon reviewer, who obviously loved this book. While I respect the reviewer's opinion, I deeply disagree with her conclusion that "we finally know how Mary lived and loved" after reading this book. Nothing could be farther from the truth, and it concerns me that someone may mistake this book for even a fictionalized view of Mary's life. Erickson's novel doesn't illuminate the gray areas of the life of Mary, Queen of Scots -- she INVENTS them, wholesale. Most historical novelists, like the ones who imagine that Elizabeth Tudor gave birth to a child, at least rely on some evidence, such as the close relationships she had with both Seymour and Dudley, both of whom wanted to marry her. Erickson, however, has created a fictional personage, named her Mary Queen of Scots, and created for her years of a life that did not happen. (Wanna see Mary at the papal court in Rome? In a Flemish army camp? Picking up apples to feed to the pigs at a farm in Normandy? Well, read away...) Normally, I would have just reacted to this book by tossing it out and trying to obliterate it from my mind (while crafting a white lie for the friend who thought I would enjoy it.) But I was troubled by both the fact that readers might walk away thinking "oh, this could have happened."
I wouldn't quibble if the author had stuck to playing around with minor details. For instance, it's almost irresistible (as lots of writers since Schiller in 1800 have done) to create a meeting of some kind between Mary and Elizabeth, who kept her imprisoned for nearly 20 years before finally executing her. Similarly, it's fun for any novelist to play around with exactly how Darnley, Mary's second husband, ended up being blown up in his house and whether she was involved in the crime, or the extent of her involvement in conspiracies to dethrone Elizabeth, etc. I may find it highly unlikely that James Bothwell, Mary's controverisal third husband called her "Orange Blossom" as a pet name, much less witnessed her execution. But in a pinch, I could live with that, although I'd probably end up rating the book three stars. But while Mary's interior life and the extent of her plotting during her long imprisonment may indeed be a gray period in her life, the fact that she was imprisoned certainly wasn't, and that's what Erickson suggests. And a defense of "whimsy" doesn't cover it. Whimsy is inventing a fictional memoir penned by Mary; it isn't inventing a parallel life for her. It's as if Erickson wanted to write a still more dramatic novel than the facts enabled her to, and rather than just resorting to entirely fictional characters (which would have made the book less marketable, let's face it), she just disposed entirely of the facts.
Adding insult to injury is the that even if I could have completely suspended my disbelief and just submerged myself into the quasi-hallucinatory parallel universe that Erickson conjures up, is the fact that it isn't a good book by those standards. Mary, as queen of France, is quite willing to relinquish her royal dignity and hang out in taverns out of curiosity and she's willing to check the hen house for eggs every morning. And yet she is so insistent on that same royal dignity that she will endanger herself and those she claims to love most? None of this character's behavior or actions are convincing. The writing is staccato and choppy -- those who didn't enjoy Philippa Gregory's writing in her own treatment of Mary's years in imprisonment in The Other Queen: A Novel won't find much to rejoice in here.
A historical fiction devotee I know enjoyed Erickson's previous novel, focusing on Tatiana Nicolaevna, second daughter of the last Tsar of Russia, in large part because there is so little historical fiction about Tatiana and the four other Romanov children. In contrast, there are many books, from the adequate to the very good, about Mary Queen of Scots, all of which are better written, most of which are just as lively and all of which contain as much intrigue and drama as this. At the top of the heap is Reay Tannahill's book, Fatal Majesty: A Novel of Mary, Queen of Scots. There are several books by Jean Plaidy about Mary's life both before and after her imprisonment, including Royal Road to Fotheringhay: The Story of Mary, Queen of Scots. Margaret George has written a book that could double as a doorstop, but for those with a tolerance for loooonng books, it's still compelling - Mary Queen of Scotland & The Isles: A Novel. Some of Fiona Buckley's Elizabeth mysteries deal with plots surrounding Mary -- they are highly fictionalized but in a way that doesn't do violence to history. Lesser known but still good books include Elizabeth Byrd's Immortal Queen, while Margaret Irwin tackled Mary's love affair with Bothwell in The Galliard (also published under the title The Gay Galliard, back in the days when 'gay' didn't have a double meaning.) A less readable book is Nigel Tranter's Marie and Mary, about Mary and her mother; Pamela Hill wrote about Darnley's mother in Green Salamander. In other words, there is a lot of very good historical fiction focusing on Mary and imagining what lay between the known lines of her life without resorting to what I can only describe as indifferently-written balderdash.
Calling this kind of book a 'historical entertainment' is rather disingenuous. It's also inaccurate. Certainly, historical fiction can be extremely entertaining, but this 'historical entertainment' is neither historical nor entertaining enough for me to find any redeeming qualities. At what point is it permissible to distort known history in the interest of fiction? Could we see, down the road, a novel that portrays Diana of Wales as an undercover agent for al-Qaeda charged with undermining the British monarchy? That's pretty much the kind of license that Erickson has taken with Mary's life.
Avoid at all costs. One star. (Meaning I don't think it should have seen the light of day)
I'm trying to react to this novel in the spirit that Carolly Erickson suggests in her author's note at the end -- to view it as a 'historical entertainment', as 'whimsy'. But I can't. It's just a bad book, not only because it plays fast and loose with the known facts of history (occasionally reading a bit like a hallucination of what might have been) but because it's not even well-written. The only positive note is that I didn't buy it; a friend of mine who knows that I enjoy historical fiction gave it to me as a gift, and I thought I might as well try it, despite my growing distaste for Erickson's novels.
Good historical fiction, like any work of fiction, starts with the author posing himself or herself the question, "What if..." and continues from there. The winners in this category know their history and respect it, in part because they know that a reasonable degree of historical accuracy is valued by those readers who are irritated by errors and partly because they respect the history themselves, and hope to foster a knowledge and appreciation for it on the part of readers whose introduction to a time in history or a historical figure may come through their book. After a certain point, treating historical fact as if it didn't matter, or just an obstacle in the way of telling a good story, irritates me deeply. Especially when the facts already lend themselves to a lot of interpretation and drama, as countless historical novelists have discovered. "Historical entertainment" increasingly strikes me as a more acceptable way of saying that a lazy writer can't be bothered to play by the rules that others largely stick to, perhaps because those rules might limit sales.
In my opinion, the way all historical novelists except Erickson approach their books leaves a LOT of room to manoeuver. Anya Seton's Katherine, for instance, was based on very flimsy historical records (simply because very little survived); the result is one of the classic books of historical fiction that, while it invents or imagines some episodes, is always true to "what could have been", to what was plausible for the character and the time in which she lived. I've seen recent books that suggested Elizabeth the 'Virgin Queen' was no virgin at all and even that she might have become pregnant by either Thomas Seymour or Robert Dudley. I personally think that's unlikely, but we can't know. We simply don't have and can't have that information, and because of that, it's fertile ground for a novelist to go to work with their imagination. Similarly, the fate of the princes in the Tower is wide open for speculation.
What persuaded me to write this review were some comments by an Amazon reviewer, who obviously loved this book. While I respect the reviewer's opinion, I deeply disagree with her conclusion that "we finally know how Mary lived and loved" after reading this book. Nothing could be farther from the truth, and it concerns me that someone may mistake this book for even a fictionalized view of Mary's life. Erickson's novel doesn't illuminate the gray areas of the life of Mary, Queen of Scots -- she INVENTS them, wholesale. Most historical novelists, like the ones who imagine that Elizabeth Tudor gave birth to a child, at least rely on some evidence, such as the close relationships she had with both Seymour and Dudley, both of whom wanted to marry her. Erickson, however, has created a fictional personage, named her Mary Queen of Scots, and created for her years of a life that did not happen. (Wanna see Mary at the papal court in Rome? In a Flemish army camp? Picking up apples to feed to the pigs at a farm in Normandy? Well, read away...) Normally, I would have just reacted to this book by tossing it out and trying to obliterate it from my mind (while crafting a white lie for the friend who thought I would enjoy it.) But I was troubled by both the fact that readers might walk away thinking "oh, this could have happened."
I wouldn't quibble if the author had stuck to playing around with minor details. For instance, it's almost irresistible (as lots of writers since Schiller in 1800 have done) to create a meeting of some kind between Mary and Elizabeth, who kept her imprisoned for nearly 20 years before finally executing her. Similarly, it's fun for any novelist to play around with exactly how Darnley, Mary's second husband, ended up being blown up in his house and whether she was involved in the crime, or the extent of her involvement in conspiracies to dethrone Elizabeth, etc. I may find it highly unlikely that James Bothwell, Mary's controverisal third husband called her "Orange Blossom" as a pet name, much less witnessed her execution. But in a pinch, I could live with that, although I'd probably end up rating the book three stars. But while Mary's interior life and the extent of her plotting during her long imprisonment may indeed be a gray period in her life, the fact that she was imprisoned certainly wasn't, and that's what Erickson suggests. And a defense of "whimsy" doesn't cover it. Whimsy is inventing a fictional memoir penned by Mary; it isn't inventing a parallel life for her. It's as if Erickson wanted to write a still more dramatic novel than the facts enabled her to, and rather than just resorting to entirely fictional characters (which would have made the book less marketable, let's face it), she just disposed entirely of the facts.
Adding insult to injury is the that even if I could have completely suspended my disbelief and just submerged myself into the quasi-hallucinatory parallel universe that Erickson conjures up, is the fact that it isn't a good book by those standards. Mary, as queen of France, is quite willing to relinquish her royal dignity and hang out in taverns out of curiosity and she's willing to check the hen house for eggs every morning. And yet she is so insistent on that same royal dignity that she will endanger herself and those she claims to love most? None of this character's behavior or actions are convincing. The writing is staccato and choppy -- those who didn't enjoy Philippa Gregory's writing in her own treatment of Mary's years in imprisonment in The Other Queen: A Novel won't find much to rejoice in here.
A historical fiction devotee I know enjoyed Erickson's previous novel, focusing on Tatiana Nicolaevna, second daughter of the last Tsar of Russia, in large part because there is so little historical fiction about Tatiana and the four other Romanov children. In contrast, there are many books, from the adequate to the very good, about Mary Queen of Scots, all of which are better written, most of which are just as lively and all of which contain as much intrigue and drama as this. At the top of the heap is Reay Tannahill's book, Fatal Majesty: A Novel of Mary, Queen of Scots. There are several books by Jean Plaidy about Mary's life both before and after her imprisonment, including Royal Road to Fotheringhay: The Story of Mary, Queen of Scots. Margaret George has written a book that could double as a doorstop, but for those with a tolerance for loooonng books, it's still compelling - Mary Queen of Scotland & The Isles: A Novel. Some of Fiona Buckley's Elizabeth mysteries deal with plots surrounding Mary -- they are highly fictionalized but in a way that doesn't do violence to history. Lesser known but still good books include Elizabeth Byrd's Immortal Queen, while Margaret Irwin tackled Mary's love affair with Bothwell in The Galliard (also published under the title The Gay Galliard, back in the days when 'gay' didn't have a double meaning.) A less readable book is Nigel Tranter's Marie and Mary, about Mary and her mother; Pamela Hill wrote about Darnley's mother in Green Salamander. In other words, there is a lot of very good historical fiction focusing on Mary and imagining what lay between the known lines of her life without resorting to what I can only describe as indifferently-written balderdash.
Calling this kind of book a 'historical entertainment' is rather disingenuous. It's also inaccurate. Certainly, historical fiction can be extremely entertaining, but this 'historical entertainment' is neither historical nor entertaining enough for me to find any redeeming qualities. At what point is it permissible to distort known history in the interest of fiction? Could we see, down the road, a novel that portrays Diana of Wales as an undercover agent for al-Qaeda charged with undermining the British monarchy? That's pretty much the kind of license that Erickson has taken with Mary's life.
Avoid at all costs. One star. (Meaning I don't think it should have seen the light of day)