The Quest for Queen Mary is a slow book to read. Not because it is difficult, abstruse, or poorly written. It takes a long time for two reasons. The first is that the editor, Hugo Vickers, is an old-fashioned traditional British Royal Family aficionado who cannot stop giving detailed footnotes on the most obscure adjuncts of royalty, not only in Britain, but their manifold connections in Germany, Denmark and other places. As a compulsive reader of footnotes, I read the ones on every page, and there are often as many as five, in small print.
That is not, however, the main reason for the slowness. The chief reason is that this collection of James Pope-Hennesy's private notes on the people he interviewed is the only book I have ever read where page after page is laugh-out-loud funny. I mean that literally. There are pages where every sentence, certainly every paragraph, requires putting the book down to laugh and admire Pope-Hennessy's extraordinarily vivid, complex, dead-on, pseudo-empirical prose style. I was often in tears from laughter, and had to pause to clear my vision. Pope-Hennessy's method iw to come round to the homes of various royal personages as though he is a naive, earnest reporter, just doing his job. The description of the setting usually comes first; it is quite often some ghastly royal country estate, of which England and Scotland seem to have an inexhaustible supply.
Where Pope-Hennessy gets rolling, however, is when he starts interacting with his interviewees: he tells us what they look like, then what it's like to talk to them, how they received him, what their obsessions are, etc. He presents himself always as something of an adult cub reporter, giving his impressions so he can put them in the book he is writing. He has a kind of pseudo-low key style that feels quintessentially upper school English, but that in fact few English writers master. He reminds me of people like Oscar Wilde, who was said to be a better conversationalist than writer. But Pope-Hennessy transfers his conversational wit, and the thought process that goes with it, direct to the page. The result is some of the most stylistically brilliant writing you will ever see. Pope-Hennessy never gives the impression of trying to be funny, which in my view is the one sure way to ruin your writing style. Instead, he is deadpan in his descriptions, just recording what he sees without embellishment. What is most extraordinary is that he is not writing for an audience. These are simply his notes, never intended for publication.
Pope-Hennessy and Vickers end by giving us a priceless portrait of a lost world, with the formidable Queen consort Mary, a figure of manifold complexity and paradox, at its center. We see her as a small child doing things like sliding down a stairway on a tray, as the young woman fortunate enough to escape a disastrous marriage to the probably syphillitic Prince Clarence, as the loyal wife of the foul-tempered King George V, the aggrieved mother of the Duke of Windsor, the daughter of the riotous mountain of a woman Duchess Teck, the imperial supervisor of fifty servants, the love of gardens who hates to garden, the ineluctable Londoner who makes the best of her country residences like the ghastly Sandringham, the cousin or distant relation of Germans and Danes who are at least as odd as the legendarily eccentric Brits. On and on, in as rich a portrait of a human being as you will ever see.
Most reviews of The Quest for Queen Mary have noted that this is an entry into a long gone lost world. But is it really? To see how contemporary it is, just pause for a few moments the next time you check out of your local supermarket and peruse the covers of tabloids and fan mags. There you will see such personages as Duchess Meghan Markle, wife of Prince Harry, grandson of Queen Elizabeth, making him great-great granddson of Queen Mary. All the palace intrigues, the family squabbles, the outrageous though contained behavior, the eternal gossip - they're all there, and people then as now, especially Americans who long for a royal family though they'll never admit it, can't get enough. There's something quintessentially human about wanting a class of people higher than you so that you can follow their endless silliness and therefore prove that you are better than they, even though you must keep them in their crystal cabinet, where they have nothing to do but indulge their whims and thereefore entertain you while you go about the drudgery of your everyday life.
This is the portrait Pope-Hennessy, with an assist from the much more straight-laced and indefatigable chronicler Hugo Vickers, have given us. Settle in by the fire with your glass of sherry or port and read to your heart's content, as slowly and lovingly as you want. You'll never have a better literary experience.