If you’ve never heard of the name Bess of Hardwick (or Shrewsbury); then you must be living under a Tudor rock. Bess may have ‘only’ been a CountessIf you’ve never heard of the name Bess of Hardwick (or Shrewsbury); then you must be living under a Tudor rock. Bess may have ‘only’ been a Countess but her legacy has lived on. Known for her assertive prowess, boundless wealth, and obsession with constructing and owning homes and properties; Bess is an icon for modern-day feminists and some would say a formidable woman. Kate Hubbard attempts to highlight Bess in, “Devices and Desires: Bess of Hardwick and the Building of Elizabethan England”.
Hubbard begins “Devices and Desires” by strongly asserting and warning readers that her text is not a straight-forward historical biography and rather focuses on Bess of Hardwick’s logistical whereabouts, expenditures, and architectural wonders. Yet, this disclaimer is ‘off’ and doesn’t properly describe the clumsy hypothesis of “Devices and Desires”. In fact, it is quite difficult to summarize the aim of the text as it is part biography, part Tudor study, and part architectural history. This isn’t necessarily a ‘bad thing’ in terms of content as “Devices and Desires” is quite interesting but it does result in a disjointed reading lacking a cohesive strand that is jumpy and complicated to follow.
Elaborating on this, Hubbard often sidelines Bess and seems to go off on tangents discussing anything but the focus of “Devices and Desires”. The actual content is often repetitive and slow-moving, bogging down the reader and cluttering the memory bank. That being said, when “Devices and Desires” is on task and actually discusses Bess; it is quite riveting and brings her to life. One wouldn’t expect a focus on architecture and account books to be a page-turner and yet “Devices and Desires” is successful.
Hubbard’s academic research is abundant and obvious throughout the pages of “Devices and Desires”, making the book credible, as a whole. Sadly, this scholarly approach doesn’t prevent Hubbard from riddling “Devices and Desires” with speculative “would have”, “could have”, and “probably”- statements presuming certain notions, thoughts, and actions on behalf of Bess. These are certainly best to be taken with a grain of salt although they are indeed thought-provoking and help to better understand the micro-view.
As “Devices and Desires” progresses, an odd far-extreme is established. Meaning, the book can only be read in limited spurts as there is simply too much information to grasp quickly but the portion on Bess are heightened in engagement. This means that it can still be said that “Devices and Desires” is ‘all over the place’ and hard to figure out.
Hubbard excels at quoting personal letters and accounts that don’t as often see the light of day amongst other history texts which makes Bess feel more ‘real’. Equally noteworthy is the detailed insight into Bess’s family and offspring not just in terms of wealth and architecture; but as individuals. Anyone familiar with Tudor history is aware of Bess and her multiple husbands but there is much more drama and history surrounding Bess that is ripe for the picking and strengthens her legacy.
“Devices and Desires” maintains its hearty texture until the ending pages, truly solidifying who Bess was as a woman and her impact on those around her/descendents. There is a sense of finality and strong memory with the conclusion of “Devices and Desires”.
Hubbard supplements “Devices and Desires” with not one but two sections of color photo plates. A bibliography and Notes section are also included although, sadly, the notes are not annotated.
“Devices and Desires” is slightly clunky, disjointed, and lacks a smooth streamline and yet intrigues with its content encompassing Bess of Hardwick and Tudor/Elizabethan England architecture. Although perhaps not perfect; Hubbard’s text is unique and stands on its own merits. “Devices and Desires” is suggested for all readers interested in this period of English history, architecture, and Bess of Hardwick. ...more
The life of Henry VIII concerning his court, wives, and politics is widely known and is certainly no secret. However, Henry was surrounded byThe life of Henry VIII concerning his court, wives, and politics is widely known and is certainly no secret. However, Henry was surrounded by ambitious men in both his political and personal spheres which are somewhat lesser discussed. How did these men and their personalities shape Henry’s own? Tracy Borman explores this question in, “Henry VIII and the Men Who Made Him”.
“Henry VIII and the Men Who Made Him” curtails a traditional recap biography and focuses more on the interactions between Henry and key figures such as Thomas Wosley, Thomas Cromwell, Thomas Cranmer, and Charles Brandon alongside such noteworthy names as Will Somers (Henry’s court fool) and Sir Nicholas Carew (to name some examples covered in the text). Borman’s presentation is a cocktail mix of chronological biography infusing an almost mini-bio of each figure as they respectively enter Henry’s life. This is where the key issue with “Henry VIII and the Men Who Made Him” arises: the text doesn’t meet Borman’s thesis at attempt to portray the effect these relationships had on Henry that makes sense being we don’t have a diary or psyche breakdown of Henry’s mind. This, however, means that the text is basically a biography of each figure and the political and/or personal events/connections to Henry. Despite the theme of the text not being met; the angle is still unique focusing more on the masculine relationships rather than just politics, wives, or the overall reign of Henry VIII.
Elaborating on this note, it is clear beyond measure that Borman is well-educated on the subject and has conducted massive amounts of research. Even those readers familiar with the subject will encounter information either not expressed at all in other texts or simply not explored making for an intriguing reading. That being said, Borman has the habit of including speculative statements, including opinions as fact without backing arguments, and repeating facts. Occasionally, “Henry VIII and the Men Who Made Him” must be taken with a grain of salt.
Borman’s writing style meshes together an academic style with a smooth narrative educating readers while ensuring a storytelling arc that engages and excites. This doesn’t mean that “Henry VIII and the Men Who Made Him” doesn’t have a slow pace at times with a repetitive density: it does. Overall, though, the text is strong enough to be readable and encourage page-turning. Notably affecting the flow of “Henry VIII and the Men Who Made Him” are the consistently long chapters offering insufficient breaks for material to soak in and being heavily clumsy with over-saturated, run-on content. This mars readability and dampers the text.
The progression of “Henry VIII and the Men Who Made Him” brings an advancement to the meeting of the thesis at hand. Although Borman still fails to truly portray how the discussed figures affected Henry; she does offer a unique view of the webs between the men themselves and therefore shows hidden behind-the-scenes happenings surrounding such events as the King’s “Great Matter” and the Reformation. In this way, readers do get a rare glimpse into the King and are able to self-decide how these men contributed to his actions and personality and of what consequence each entailed.
Although Borman had the habit in her previous works to quote Shakespeare as though he was a historian; she luckily only does this once in “Henry VIII and the Men Who Made Him”. Borman does, however, constantly refer to Henry VIII’s weight and boasts him as ‘gigantic’ and ‘huge’. We get it: Henry was obese in the later years of his reign. It is not necessary, though, to continuously mention such a superficial note in this context.
The ending of “Henry VIII and the Men Who Made Him” feels somewhat rushed and incomplete resulting in a conclusion that is less than memorable and doesn’t fully encompass the entire text.
Borman includes a section of full-color photo plates, bibliography (with an adequate amount of primary sources) and notes (although hardly annotated). Borman’s “Henry VIII and the Men Who Made Him” doesn’t fully meet the aim of her thesis yet it is notably interesting, unique, and get stronger throughout the course of its progression. There are some facts and revealing material that is new even to those familiar with the topic and despite its flaws; “Henry VIII and the Men Who Made Him” is suggested for all readers interested in Henry VIII and the Tudor period. ...more
There were several ways during historical England that one could learn to be posh, poised, polite, prim, and proper; ranging from courtly manualThere were several ways during historical England that one could learn to be posh, poised, polite, prim, and proper; ranging from courtly manual lessons to ‘finishing schools’ (living with a noble family). But, what if you were fed up with all that wanted to be ‘bad’ and to rebel? Run amok? Be crazy?! Ruth Goodman is here to help you out with precisely that in, “How to Behave Badly in Elizabethan England: A Guide for Knaves, Fools, Harlots, Cuckolds, Drunkards, Liars, Thieves, and Braggarts”.
“How to Behave Badly in Elizabethan England” is a slight misnomer as Goodman’s work is not an actual how-to guide or checklist and is instead a narrative and readable collection of pages. Goodman divides the content of “How to Behave Badly in Elizabethan England” by chapter following a natural order of speech, gestures, mockery, violence, habits, the body, and overall summary with each chapter discussing sub-bullets within the topic. This is topped off with eloquent and flourished writing with an academic edge to educate while also titillating readers.
“How to Behave Badly in Elizabethan England” provides an insight into the proper manners of Tudor and Stuart-period England while slightly touching upon the ways of neighboring countries due to their propensity to influence the fashion and lifestyle choices of England. Using this method, Goodman then switches gears by scholarly explaining how to go against these norms and customs in order to be a ruffian. This is supplemented with extensive research, primary source examples, stories of actual people (through court records), and occasional illustrations from the period.
Godoman’s piece is clearly unique and diverse but also fits well on the history shelves providing both a micro and macro view. The level and extent of research is undeniable. However, sometimes the material can become too technical and ‘dry’ making “How to Behave Badly in Elizabethan England” best in small doses in order to grasp all of the content and truly soak it in.
Occasionally, Goodman injects “How to Behave Badly in Elizabethan England” with an almost psychological analysis and breakdown of societal norms alongside her findings which adds flesh to the skeleton of the thesis and therefore adds intrinsic value to the book. Goodman also shares her personal experiences at attempting specific mannerisms, making the subject more ‘real’.
At times, “How to Behave Badly in Elizabethan England” slips into a more straight-forward history territory such as during the explanation of the tobacco trade and plantations. This is still powerful in its ability to rivet readers but doesn’t fit the aim (or title) of the book.
Goodman concludes each chapter with a recap of what was learned in the respective chapter, helping to make the material ‘sticky’.
“How to Behave Badly in Elizabethan England” finishes with a summarizing chapter of the entire book ending the piece with a strong, solid foot-hold. Goodman also includes a Bibliography but, sadly, a Notes section is absent from the pages.
“How to Behave Badly in Elizabethan England” is a quirky, charming, entertaining read that is certainly high in academics rather than being an utter fluff or humor piece. The writing engages readers while educating in a smooth and seamless way. Just make sure to take some breaks during reading in order to grasp every detail. “How to Behave Badly in Elizabethan England” is recommended for all English history lovers particularly those interested in Tudor and Stuart England.
One doesn’t generally associate Tudor-era England with individuals of African-descent. Surprisingly, Tudor England had a sufficient amount of BlackOne doesn’t generally associate Tudor-era England with individuals of African-descent. Surprisingly, Tudor England had a sufficient amount of Black residents/workers and there were not ‘slaves’ as usually envisioned. Miranda Kaufmann explores this riveting, fresh angle of English history in, “Black Tudors: The Untold Story”.
A large amount of credit is due to Miranda Kaufmann for being exceptionally ambitious and striving to reveal an aspect of Tudor history that even the most staunch English history aficionado may not be familiar with. Such an untraversed topic opens the door to a written piece that could be choppy, off topic, and comprised mostly of filler information due to the absence of overt resource material. Kaufmann avoids this by sticking mostly to her thesis and staying on task.
“Black Tudors” has a two-prong focal approach by offering an overall look at the role, lives, and socio-status of Blacks living in Tudor England while also highlighting specific Black individuals with various professions and societal norms. This serves as a strong introduction to the topic with variable depth while not overwhelming the reader.
There are, unfortunately, issues with pace and consistency as Kaufmann’s writing tends to fluctuate from entertaining to ‘boring’. This is also peppered with some repetitive information and consequentially results in the desire to skim the material/pages of “Black Tudors”. Despite some of these flaws, Kaufmann successfully reveals noteworthy information that is memorable and not too scholarly in tone. In this manner, “Black Tudors” is a piece that targets both novice and expert readers on the topic.
As “Black Tudors” progresses, Kaufmann has the habit of sounding too clinical and merely recapping account books and ledgers concerning the lives of Blacks. On the other hand, Kaufmann’s level of research is evident and in-depth adding substance to “Black Tudors”.
Scholarly academics will be satisfied with Kaufmann’s sleuth-work as she confirms information and the whereabouts of the figures discussed using detective/lawyer-like tenacity leaving no stone unturned.
After providing portraits of the ten key figures discussed; Kaufmann concludes with a brief, overall look at the status of Blacks during periods and attempts to solidify the image of this racial group being solid citizens and not part of any enslavement. “Black Tudors” successfully reveals a new perspective to readers and debunks certain stereotypes that may exist.
“Black Tudors” includes a thorough bibliography complete with a highly satisfying number of primary sources, annotated notes, and a section of photo color plates with photos not previously available in other Tudor texts.
Kaufmann’s “Black Tudors” is extremely forward-thinking and ambitious both in respect to ‘typical’ Tudor history pieces and as the author’s debut book. The material thesis is strong, serves as a valid introduction to the topic, and is intriguing on an intrinsic level. However, the pace is slow, the text is often repetitive, some emotional appeal is missing, and the pages can be downright ‘boring’. “Black Tudors” is very much recommended for those who must read everything there is about British history, black history, and Tudor-era England; but do not expect a mind-blowing work. ...more
I know what you are thinking: “Another Anne Boleyn biography?!” Boleyn without a doubt is one of the most intriguing women in history due to herI know what you are thinking: “Another Anne Boleyn biography?!” Boleyn without a doubt is one of the most intriguing women in history due to her person, circumstances, and/or both. But yeah… do we really need another portrait of this formidable lady? YES! I assure you, we do! Especially when the piece is presented in a new light which is exactly what Amy Licence does in, “Anne Boleyn: Adultery, Heresy, Desire”.
“Anne Boleyn” is a heavy academic and scholarly work founded in thick research, primary materials, and previously hidden documents. Licence goes in a different direction with “Anne Boleyn” rather than the typical biography. Instead of a simple chronological or event recap; Licence takes a psychological, women’s study, and social look at Anne, Henry the VIII, and their background/roles. Licence truly breaks down the ‘how and why’ of the events and possible psychological considerations. “Anne Boleyn” is the first and only Anne biography of its kind and the richness stands out.
Licence also amplifies this excellence by debunking myths and unraveling threads like a puzzle master. Even those readers who are self-declared Anne and Tudor experts (as I consider myself to be); will embark upon a journey of new discoveries of understanding. “Anne Boleyn” is truly a text to read in order to have a well-rounded view of the subject.
That all being said; Licence tends to go off on tangents making “Anne Boleyn” a bulky read and one that takes time and requires breaks as it is a lot “to take in”. Literally a few pages at a time can be tiresome so they can lead to some dissatisfaction from readers.
On a positive note, Licence doesn’t present a biased view, and again, explores the social and psychological merits of the situation resulting in a credible piece. Her writing is complex, intricate, and beautiful. Although, small note: Licence has habits of repetition such as constantly calling Anne, “A newer model” over Catherine as though the women are cars.
“Anne Boleyn” falls victim to an overabundance of details, at times, which could have been omitted in the overall viewpoint of the text such as architectural details/deeds of buildings Henry and Anne stayed at during royal progresses. Much of this feels like filler material and lends itself to be skimmed by the reader.
The concluding chapters of “Anne Boleyn” naturally focus on her downfall and execution. The text is noticeably excerpted feeling like an overview, notably in comparison to the heavy detail of the entire book leading to this end. Either Licence was rushed or lost steam, but whatever the cause, “Anne Boleyn” ends abruptly.
Licence includes an epilogue of a look at some of Anne’s bills and debts and a Notes (not annotated) section. “Anne Boleyn” is also supplemented with a grouping of photo color plates with a suitable amount of images collected.
Licence is a thorough, detailed, investigative historian lacing her work with personal passion and new facts. “Anne Boleyn” is not a ‘typical’ biography and is infused in a feminist study, sociological, and psychological mix that is sure to please all readers interested in the Tudor period even having read mountains of books on the topic, previously. “Anne Boleyn”, despite its few flaws, is heavily recommended.
Although most of the English history coverage on the bookshelves today tends to distinct the Tudor dynasty; the Stuart monarchs had their own share ofAlthough most of the English history coverage on the bookshelves today tends to distinct the Tudor dynasty; the Stuart monarchs had their own share of drama and soap opera-esque flair beginning with Mary, Queen of Scots. This feisty bloodline continued with Elizabeth Stuart, the daughter of James I of England and his queen, Anne of Denmark. Known as the ‘Winter Queen’ for being queen of Bohemia and the Palatine for only one season (but retaining the title); Elizabeth had a fiery and notable spirit. The same can be said of her daughters, the princesses Elizabeth, Louisa, Henrietta Maria, and Sophia. Nancy Goldstone attempts to revive this channel of the Stuart line in, “Daughters of the Winter Queen: Four Remarkable Sisters, the Crown of Bohemia, and the Enduring Legacy of Mary, Queen of Scots.
History-author Nancy Goldstone has an infallible habit of showcasing lesser-discussed women in history and creating dual biographies in order to highlight the interactions/gravitational pulls of the women and the roles they played. “Daughters of the Winter Queen” is no exception although it is more of a ‘quint-biography’ as it focuses on Elizabeth Stuart and her four daughters. “Daughters of the Winter Queen” opens with a brief background of Mary, Queen of Scots, her son James I, and the childhood of Elizabeth Stuart. This sets a solid background for the text meanwhile introducing Elizabeth to readers. After this, Goldstone proceeds to individually limelight each daughter per chapter and recap chronological highlights /events occurring at the same time.
The problem with this is, in usual Goldstone style, that much of “Daughters of the Winter Queen” is off-topic. Goldstone is unapologetically heavy on the research and offers new information and angles that even familiar readers are unaware of both in the political and social Stuart realm. “Daughters of the Winter Queen” is certainly academic in this sense. However, the lives of the princesses, although the topic of the book, seem glossed over without ever revealing their psyches or truly bringing the women to life. Readers never actually get to know these figures and don’t walk away with a sense of the princesses.
That being said, Goldstones flowery, descriptive, vivid, and detailed writing lends to entertaining text with a strong-paced history lesson of the period. I have remarked before that Goldstone would make an excellent historical-fiction author and I stick by this. Yet, “Daughters of the Winter Queen” does fall victim to some tedium and repetitive text that continually discusses politics. If you particularly seek this subject matter, then you are in luck!
Goldstone occasionally peppers the text with a conversational tone and/or humor (this even includes the footnotes) which breaks up the scholarly heaviness but may cause those readers who seek a strict non-fiction approach to cringe.
The second half of “Daughters of the Winter Queen” is noticeably more absorbing and dives deeper into the personal lives of the princesses revealing the inner intricacies. Goldstone find her flow and the material is more cumbersome (in a positive way) making “Daughters of the Winter Queen” a solid read after initial weaknesses.
Goldstone’s angle in the final chapters of “Daughters of the Winter Queen” is heavy on the social relationship standings of the daughters which is quite a respite from the heavy political focus. Goldstone still manages to stray off topic and over-explain details; but this is more tolerable settled among the applicable text. Sadly, the conclusion of the death of the Queen of Bohemia is anticlimactic and doesn’t emote the response that is expected from “Daughters of the Winter Queen”.
The concluding chapters of “Daughters of the Winter Queen” round up the lives of the princesses by providing a focal point on their adult lives and deaths post-decease of the Queen of Bohemia. This, along with the ‘Epilogue’ that circles back to the legacy of Mary, Queen of Scots; infuses the text with the finality it requires to be buttoned-up and have a solid beginning and end.
Goldstone supplements “Daughters of the Winter Queen” with a section of photo color plates, Notes (although scarcely annotated), and a select Bibliography for further reading.
“Daughters of the Winter Queen” is another effort by Goldstone to focus on lesser-known figures and their interactions with each other among a sea of strong fact and scholarly information. Although Goldstone frequently goes off-track and the daughters don’t come alive until the second half of the pages; Goldstone’s books increase with strength with each publication. “Daughters of the Winter Queen” is a pleasurable book as an introduction into the Stuart bloodline via the Queen of Bohemia and certainly, even with its flaws; is recommended for Stuart enthusiasts. ...more
Readers of Elizabethan history are familiar with the figurehead of Lettice Knollys: a kinswoman of Elizabeth, Lettice became Elizabeth’s direct rivalReaders of Elizabethan history are familiar with the figurehead of Lettice Knollys: a kinswoman of Elizabeth, Lettice became Elizabeth’s direct rival by marrying her royal favorite and husband-in-everything-but-name, Robert Dudley. Lettice lived a life of intrigue which more-than merits a full-biography yet has not been executed. Nicolla Tallis, the resident historian of the Alison Weir tours, focuses her sophomore history release on spotlighting Lettice once and for all in, “Elizabeth’s Rival: The Tumultuous Life of the Countess of Leicester, The Romance and Conspiracy that Threatened Queen Elizabeth’s Court”.
Attempting to present a full-biography of Lettice is quite ambitious in nature but Tallis attacks it with zeal. Tallis’s approach is that of an academic-scholarly angle but with a flowing-illustrative prose that reads well and entertains while educating, resulting in a composed text.
Unfortunately, Tallis doesn’t fully meet her thesis or portrait Lettice as intended. Tallis begins “Elizabeth’s Rival” with a background look at Lettice’s family tree and childhood environment. However, due to the lack of an abundance of resource material; the pages focus more on everyone and everything but Lettice, herself, causing her to be shrouded in the background and leaving an empty spotlight. This continues throughout the entirety of “Elizabeth’s Rival” darkening the piece.
That being said; it is beyond evident that Tallis has dived deep into both primary and secondary research and holds personal knowledge on the topic presenting it with a desirous passion. Even though Lettice isn’t the main focus, as is the point of the book; readers still gain new and poignant information and therefore learn about this woman’s life (even if from the sidelines). Tallis succeeds at beautifully written text that is supplemented by copious direct quotes from primary documents and ample sleuth work that debunks certain myths and false facts.
Yet, Tallis infuses “Elizabeth’s Rival” with an overload of speculative “could of” and “should have”- statements. “Elizabeth’s Rival” can be taken with a grain of salt and should have its merits questioned. Furthermore, Tallis makes statements that are in complete opposition to the generally-accepted historic cases without arguing them, thus, coming off as simply incorrect rather than enlightened.
Although the book title claims Lettice to have led a ‘tumultuous’ life; none of the text truly emphasizes such a description. Even Lettice’s marriage to Robert Dudley is discussed sort of off-handedly and without detail. However, on a positive note, when is Lettice is the subject of the text, “Elizabeth‘s Rival” is enticing, enough.
“Elizabeth’s Rival” falls victim to repetition of facts and chronological confusing breaking up the text and creating a general feel of disjointed disorganization. Although this doesn’t impede the overall piece too much, a stronger editor would have been welcomed.
Once past the halfway mark; “Elizabeth’s Rival” overly focuses on the lives and movements of Lettice’s children and relations both politically and socially. Talli’s focus and knowledge of such day-to-day detail is remarkable; but, it still puts Lettice in the background and doesn’t reveal her character or life. Tallis receives credit for attempting to highlight Lettice but it seems the proper amount of information concerning her simply doesn’t exist.
The conclusion of Elizabeth’s Rival” waxes poetic about the life and legend of Lettice and eulogizes her presence. However, this is merely Tallis simply building up the figure but leaving a large shadow in the text. In other words, Tallis wraps up the piece indicating Lettice’s importance but this isn’t solidified anywhere in “Elizabeth’s Rival”.
Tallis supplements “Elizabeth’s Rival” with appendices that include Lettice’s epitaph on her tomb and a list of the places currently in existence from Lettice’s lifetime. “Elizabeth’s Rival” also includes two sets of color photo plates and annotated notes ideal for the staunch fact-lovers.
“Elizabeth’s Rival” is a lofty attempt by Tallis to present a first-ever full-biography on Lettice Knollys. The text is detailed with a smooth narrative and positive prose. However, “Elizabeth’s Rival” fails at Tallis’s thesis and doesn’t fully reveal Lettice which is a heavy disappointment for those seeking a heavy academic piece living up to its title. Despite these complaints, “Elizabeth’s Rival” is suggested for readers of Tudor and Elizabethan England, especially those new to the topic. ...more
The reign of King Charles I in the sixteenth-century England is nothing less than a tragedy ridden with civil war, the dissolution of the monarchy,The reign of King Charles I in the sixteenth-century England is nothing less than a tragedy ridden with civil war, the dissolution of the monarchy, the ‘reign’ of Oliver Cromwell, and eventual regicide. What went wrong during this dramatic time? Was Charles a victim or antagonist? Leanda De Lisle attempts to answer these questions among others in, “The White King: Charles I, Traitor, Murderer, Martyr.
Readers expecting a simple biography of Charles I or a portrait of the times will be sorely disappointed in “The White King”. On the other hand, rest assured that De Lisle’s work is a fresh look at the topic rather than a straight-laced history piece. “The White King” eschews a deep, personal look at Charles in order to highlight the intricacies and the events that took place during his reign. De Lisle’s view isn’t biased but is instead well-researched and an encompassing take on all of the individuals and actions involved.
De Lisle does unfortunately, in this vein, have the habit of wandering off on a tangent and also comparing events to that of Tudor England (not necessary). This doesn’t impede the strength of “The White King” but it can occasionally slow the pace.
Noticeably, “The White King” finds its stride as it progresses and becomes more detailed and riveting. De Lisle presents previously unseen manuscripts and is able to showcase new information/material bringing varying angles to even those readers well-versed on the topic. This certainly makes “The White King” standout.
That being said, ‘something’ about De Lisle’s voice feels stifled and held back (even generalized, in some sense). One wants to tell her to just stand her ground and really vibrate. “The White King” reverberates, though, with literary and floral language giving it an occasional narrative feel that makes history entertaining. De Lisle would be very capable of penning an excellent historical fiction piece.
De Lisle’s coverage of the trial and execution of Charles is emotive and induces heightened responses more so than the former sections of “The White King” while maintaining the academic edge. This is certainly the climax of “The White King”.
Unfortunately, after this, the concluding chapter of “The White King” is very one-note and rushed. Even though De Lisle gives a run-down briefing of the lives of figures involved with Charles’s downfall after his death; the wrap-up is compulsory and unsatisfying. De Lisle does redeem this with an afterword exploring the psychological personality of King Charles and some of the qualities that caused his downfall. De Lisle’s arguments are solid and add substance to the piece.
De Lisle supplements “The White King” with some lightly annotated notes and a section of color photo plates which truly stick out – usually the same checklist of photos are used in history texts while De Lisle includes those unseen even by readers heavily focused on the Stuart period.
“The White King” serves as an ample introduction into the tragedy and psychological discourses of the fall of King Charles I. Although not the best book on the market concerning the topic; De Lisle’s is solid, readable, and with an underlying narrative-like entertainment value. “The White King” is suggested for those interested in the topic of seeking an introduction or King Charles I aficionados whom must simply read any and all materials available. ...more
Everyone knows the fate of Catherine of Aragon: the first wife of King Henry VIII whom was put aside for his ‘concubine’, Anne Boleyn. But there is soEveryone knows the fate of Catherine of Aragon: the first wife of King Henry VIII whom was put aside for his ‘concubine’, Anne Boleyn. But there is so much more to Catherine than simply being a victim. Catherine embodied the virtues of her great parents Isobel and Ferdinand and held her convictions until the end of her days. Amy Licence highlights this fighting-distinguished queen in, “Catherine of Aragon: An Intimate Life of Henry VIII’s True Wife”.
Licence begins “Catherine of Aragon” with an attempt to solidify the foundation of Catherine’s entire being; showcasing her genealogical roots and family environment; but sadly, this is taken a bit too far. Meaning, the early chapters of “Catherine of Aragon” are a slow while telling the lives of Catherine’s grandparents and parents without the connections to Catherine and her psyche being clear. Some readers may even choose to skip ahead to more Catherine-focused passages.
This can be applied to the entirety of “Catherine of Aragon” as Licence tends to elaborate too much with an overabundance of detail about other figures and events in Catherine’s life. Credit is given to Licence for her aim to truly provide an all-inclusive and comprehensive look at Catherine and everything around her but this becomes tedious and slows the conveyance.
All that said, “Catherine of Aragon” is highly impressive with its informational spread, scholarly approach, and credible facts married with a readable tone. Licence is simply the ‘real deal’. Basically, “Catherine of Aragon” is not a ‘light’ piece so not suggested as an introduction for novice readers.
A strong feature of “Catherine of Aragon” is Licence’s occasional dapples in philosophy and debunking myths, truly attempting to explain Catherine’s actions and ways but without any biases. The pages are strewn with some speculative statements and assumptions which do induce eye rolls; but overall Licence keeps personal emotions privy and away from the text.
Although “Catherine of Aragon” is a lengthy volume, the timing is spot-on with Licence knowing the apt amount of time to spend on each topic before moving on, making for a smooth and cohesive piece.
Naturally, a large chunk of “Catherine of Aragon” is focused on Henry’s machinations to depose her in favor of Anne Boleyn. Wonderfully, Licence includes full documents and lesser-known information/facts opening up the subject in new ways and giving it a fresh perspective.
The final chapters toggle between the reformation/closing of holy houses with that of Catherine’s death. This lightens the focus on Catherine and her impact but Licence still provides valuable and insightful information. The conclusion is noticeably abrupt especially for a piece so thick in pages. Catherine isn’t necessarily memorialized as strongly as readers would hope and/or expect, resulting in a disappointing ending.
Licence includes a notes section (not annotated) and bibliography alone with a section of photo color plates.
“Catherine of Aragon” is heady, academic piece of writing that has some faults, tangents, and errors (copy/grammar errors); but is still quite a valuable source of information regarding Catherine. Those familiar to the topic will find some new information/angles making “Catherine of Aragon” a respectable recap piece but it may be a bit overwhelming for new readers on the subject. “Catherine of Aragon” is recommended for Tudor England and Catherine fans seeking a strong author. ...more
The queens and mistresses of English history are no strangers to the modern spotlight. However, this fascination tends to begin with the PlantagenetThe queens and mistresses of English history are no strangers to the modern spotlight. However, this fascination tends to begin with the Plantagenet period and leaves the women of the Anglo-Saxon and Norman Conquest living in a shadow. Alison Weir aims to bring some attention to these vivacious female figures in, “Queens of the Conquest: England’s Medieval Queens”.
Alison Weir takes a step in a different direction from her usual repertoire by focusing “Queens of the Conquest” on the Norman period of English history rather than her usual Plantagenet, Tudor, and some Stuart focus. Weir immediately makes it clear that her work is not to be taken as a strict academic, scholarly piece and serves more as a narrative introduction into the lives of Matilda of Flanders, Matilda (Edith) of Scotland, Adeliza of Louvain, Matilda of Boulogne, and the Empress Maud.
Weir divides “Queens of the Conquest” chronologically with each section focusing on one woman at a time but also highlighting the interwoven connections. Initially, readers may be a bit apprehensive as Weir kicks off the text with speculative “could have” and “would have”- statements akin to her recent, lighter history pieces that have clearly been targeting the ‘Average Joe’/pop history crowd. However, that aside, Weir does slip back into her old ways with heavy research and sleuth work. Yes, some of the chapters are flimsier than others being that source materials concerning the queens of this period are not numerous (and thus, not Weir’s sole fault); yet, Weir successfully presents lesser-known facts and information which are both entertaining and informative even to those familiar with the period and figures.
“Queens of the Conquest” is very easy-to-read but again, is also quite informative. Both novice and informed readers will find it useful. That being said, there are a couple errors that an editor somehow missed and Weir has a habit of going off on thick tangents which can be skipped. Weir, as her readers will attest, likes to present details and all surrounding information which is great, in the sense of truly getting a ‘feel’ for the period/events; but also drags the pace and lessens the focus on the actual subject at hand. “Queens of the Conquest” would be shorter in length, had the volume been condensed.
As “Queens of the Conquest” progresses, the text gets stronger and more cohesive. This may be due to more source material available or more confidence on Weir’s part (perhaps a bit of both); but whatever the cause: it results in a stronger reading. Speaking of length, although “Queens of the Conquest” numbers into the 500-page count; Weir composes short chapters which lessens the opportunity for readers to become overwhelmed.
The final quarter of “Queens of the Conquest” portraits the dramatic interactions between the Empress Maud/Geoffrey Plantagenet and King Stephen/Matilda of Boulogne giving the text an exciting boost and making for a history lesson filled with intrigue and heightened readability. It’s obvious this is where Weir felt the most comfort in her coverage, as it comes through the pages.
Weir fortifies “Queens of the Conquest” with block quotes and primary documents helping to strengthen the text. Also notable is the absence of biases and snarky comments which have made appearances in recent Weir works (and have no place in NF history). Luckily, Weir opted out this time around.
The conclusion of “Queens of the Conquest” is nuanced with emotive power without being ‘cheesy’ or too much like a eulogy. Basically, Weir ends on a solid note.
“Queens of the Conquest” includes two appendices consisting of a list/explanation of chronicle sources and original letters in full which truly offers readers glimpses into not only the beauty of letter-writing and education of the period but also into the minds of the letter authors. Weir also features a bibliography, brief notes (not heavily annotated), and a section of photo color plates.
Weir’s “Queens of the Conquest” is a directional look into the lives of queens not oft-mentioned and does present readers with a new, refreshing view of the period. The writing is readable not being heavily scholarly and academic in tone but still brings forth abundant information. “Queens of the Conquest” is recommended for readers interested in the queenship of English history.
**Note: My rating for “Queens of the Conquest” would be a solid 3.5. In lieu of half-stars, I rounded up to 4, generously.**...more
The Villiers name is a well-known one shining through Stuart England often in the right of the Dukes of Buckingham or that of Barbara Villiers. AnThe Villiers name is a well-known one shining through Stuart England often in the right of the Dukes of Buckingham or that of Barbara Villiers. An equally interesting and scandalous figure (but one on the periphery of texts) is Frances Coke Villiers, the wife of John Villiers. Johanna Luthman raises the curtain on Frances in, “Love, Madness, and Scandal: The Life of Frances Coke Villiers, Viscountess of Purbeck”.
“Love, Madness, and Scandal” is less of a biography of Frances Villiers more so that it is a portrait of the social/personal gossipy-events that occurred in her life. Don’t let this deter you that Luthman’s piece is elementary and shallow because even though the text is tabloid-friendly with juicy stories; it is also meticulously researched, credible, and written on a scholarly vein. In fact, one is often blown away by the fact that Luthman knows so many details and whereabouts of historical figures which genuinely bring the events to life.
Even though Luthman doesn’t present a by-the-book (no pun intended) biography, Frances is unpacked and generously revealed in personality and character/psyche intent. Frances is a striking figure, having led a truly intriguing life which shines through on the pages. On the other hand, Luthman sometimes incorporates assumptions and speculative, “could have” and “probably” -statements. However, they are few and far between.
Luthman is guilty of going too deep into the detail of other figures or events that aren’t always even directly related to Frances. This is carried through, however, by Luthman’s ability in keeping these ‘tangents’ fresh and entertaining and thus still an educational joy to read.
At times, “Love, Madness, and Scandal” is repetitive with facts and literally sounds like passages are copied/pasted. This is noticeable to the even lightly-discerning readers and can be cringe-worthy.
One of the strengths of “Love, Madness, and Scandal” lays in Luthman’s inclusion of documents/letters, primary quotes, and the paraphrasing of civic proceedings. Again, this adds an academic air to “Love, Madness, and Scandal” which makes the dramatic subject matter seem more serious.
Each chapter of “Love, Madness, and Scandal” concludes with a sort of ‘wrap-up/recap’ which is a bit jarring and doesn’t flows as smoothly and cohesively into the next chapter as it could, had Luthman omitted this writing –style method.
An interesting angle pursued by Luthman is the underlying discussion of sexism, gender relations, and injustice towards women during the Stuart-England era. This isn’t too blatant and in the reader’s ‘face’ but yet adds another layer and more complexity to the text.
The concluding chapter of “Love, Madness, and Scandal” allows Luthman to wrap-up the figures discussed and their deaths/legacies although, Frances, even as the subject of the text; is abrupt and not as meshed-out. Despite this, the ending is strong, makes sense, and closes the piece securely.
Luthman includes photos/illustrations throughout “Love, Madness, and Scandal” while also including genealogical trees, a biographical note, annotated source notes, and a bibliography for the fact-checkers in the reading audience.
Although “Love, Madness, and Scandal” is short in length; Luthman features Frances Villiers in a sharp ratio biography with female gender/sex studies. This angle is vibrant and modern but with an academic foundation resulting in an accessible and enjoyable text. “Love, Madness, and Scandal” is highly recommended for readers of Stuart England history and those seeking an introduction to Frances Villiers. ...more
When one mentions ‘Sultan’ or ‘Turks’; the immediate image that comes to mind is that of a harem filled with concubines and sexually vivacious women.When one mentions ‘Sultan’ or ‘Turks’; the immediate image that comes to mind is that of a harem filled with concubines and sexually vivacious women. To say the least, this isn’t the whole truth and there are many more complexities and nuances involved. Although Suleyman the Magnificent (the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire during the sixteenth century) did in fact have concubines… he broke from Islamic law and sultan tradition by marrying once of his concubines: Roxelana. Roxelana’s story from ‘slave’ to sultan’s wife is an incredible one and Leslie Peirce attempts to highlight it in, “Empress of the East: How a European Slave Girl Became Queen of the Ottoman Empire”.
Although Roxelana is highly deserving of a full-fledged portrait-biography; the Islamic laws of female privacy resulted in an absence of thorough source material regarding her person (especially being that she was initially a ‘slave’). Consequentially, Peirce’s “Empress of the East” doesn’t follow the construct of a chronological biography and is rather a subject snapshot of Roxelana and the social world of Suleyman the Magnificent and his court. This does, unfortunately, result in a text that isn’t fully-focused on Roxelana (in fact, little of “Empress of the East” is specifically about her) and strays on many tangents.
This lack of material also causes Peirce to be highly repetitive both in subjects and literal texts making “Empress of the East” feel like it has a lot of filler material. Often times, reader attention is decreased and the pace is slackened.
That being said, “Empress of the East” is an entertaining read filled with informative and ‘juicy’ information. Alternate views are offered on the life of the Sultan and his harem allowing the reader to analyze and re-think what he/she already knows concerning the subject. In this way, Peirce is multifarious and imaginative with an academic hint.
Although missing a section of photo plates; Peirce peppers “Empress of the Empire” with occasional photos and illustrations helping to strengthen the imagery created by the text.
Due to the topical-coverage nature of “Empress of the East”, confusion is created by the regularity of back-and-forth jumps in chronology. Information is thus difficult to keep track of, maintain, and fit into its biological positioning.
The second half of “Empress of the East” noticeably declines in both value and pacing. Roxelana is thrown even more by the wayside with heavy tangents and a political /diplomatic emphasis. However, Peirce (somewhat) makes up for this lapse with strong journalistic qualities and the debunking of some myths.
Sadly, the conclusion of Peirce’s “Empress of the East” doesn’t improve and retains the slower movement of the second half, although Roxelana is revisited. The ‘Epilogue’ is the moving stunner and works well to leave Roxelana on an emotive note.
Peirce supplements “Empress of the East” with a glossary of terms and names (plus a pronunciation key), Notes (not annotated), and a Bibliography of primary and secondary sources.
“Empress of the East” is a solid-enough introduction to Roxelana- a woman with little documentation. This clearly created some issues for Peirce as the text strays from the subject thesis and less information regarding Roxelana is presented than readers would hope. Yet, those seeking a look into the rule Suleyman and the social value of Roxelana will be pleased. “Empress of the East” isn’t an all-encompassing masterpiece but it is a suitable piece recommended for readers interested in Roxelana and/or the Ottoman Empire. ...more
With the majority of English monarchial history focusing on the Tudor dynasty; one can tend to forget about the incredible state of affairsWith the majority of English monarchial history focusing on the Tudor dynasty; one can tend to forget about the incredible state of affairs experienced by the Stuarts. A beheaded king, an exiled prince/future king, Oliver Cromwell, and the English Civil Wars: there was suspense! Intrigue! Romance! Understandably, King Charles II is often times the key figure who receives prime attention; but he did have siblings. Historian Linda Porter focuses her most recent text on the offspring of King Charles I in, “Royal Renegades: the Children of Charles I and the English Civil Wars”.
Having read Porter’s previous works; I was well-aware of her stylistic accents and had an idea of what to expect in “Royal Renegades”. “Royal Renegades” begins with a background look at Charles I and his wife, Queen Henrietta Maria, and quickly sets the stage for what events/actions led up to the English Civil Wars. Porter’s writing is eloquent and dense in academia; yet, has a smooth flow that soaks any chance of the text being dry in terms of readability.
That being said, in usual Porter fashion, her unique thesis is lost in an array of background information and tangents not focusing on the topic at hand. This is great in order to recreate the environment that the Stuart princes and princesses endured but it doesn’t address the aim and title of the book. The focus is so limited that if the pages discussing other topics were removed; “Royal Renegades” would be considerably shorter and probably had not been published at all.
On the bright side, the little information that is offered on the Stuart children is invigorating and fascinating with Porter presenting tidbits that are new even to those readers familiar with the subject. This is supplemented with original document inclusion and full quotes showing Porter’s extensive research.
In the past, Porter has had the habit of including numerous speculative statements in her texts. Luckily, “Royal Renegades” is not a victim of “could have”, “might have”, and “probably” statements. However, Porter does still present many opinions as straight facts without source documentation.
Even though Porter’s floral and illustrative language within “Royal Renegades” is sometimes delectable, it also uses too many words to express a single point akin to a student hoping to reach a certain word-count in a school paper. This results in a void of the material being memorable and ‘sticky’. A more direct approach could have strengthened “Royal Renegades”.
A high point that must be noted is Porter’s examinations of Prince Henry Stuart and Princess Elizabeth Stuart. Although, as aforementioned, “Royal Renegades” hardly mentions the children; when they are – Henry and Elizabeth are brought into the limelight much more than in any other Stuart text.
Porter opts out of discussing the trial of Charles I which comes as a surprise being that she likes to discuss everything and anything. For example, Porter insists on the pattern of, “I mention Person A and now give a mini bio before dropping Person B and a bio. Onwards to Person C and a bio…” This is tedious and ridiculously annoying as it is nothing more than filler material in the overall context of “Royal Renegades”.
The concluding chapters of “Royal Renegades” suffer from multiple flaws: rushed/abrupt content, juvenile blanket statements lacking credibility, and an absence of a summarized ending. The Epilogue attempts to remedy this but it fails to do so and thus closes the text in a less-than-memorable way.
Porter supplements “Royal Renegades” with annotated notes, a bibliography of both primary and secondary sources, and two sections of (black and white) photo color plates.
“Royal Renegades” is a ‘typical’ Porter piece in that it has a unique, captivating thesis but the execution is off-key. Although Porter claims to highlight the children of Charles I; they are hardly mentioned without much information revealed. “Royal Renegades” is basically a text about the English Civil Wars and the political environment that the princes and princesses lived in. “Royal Renegades” is suggested for those readers specifically interested in the Stuarts and who want to read every piece of information regarding the family. Other readers can skip the piece, as it fails to be entirely captivating. ...more
It doesn’t matter who you are or where you live; any child would spend their life avenging those who killed his/her parent. Now, imagine if the parentIt doesn’t matter who you are or where you live; any child would spend their life avenging those who killed his/her parent. Now, imagine if the parent was a king and the child a prince in-line for the throne. This was precisely the scenario with Charles Stuart (King Charles II) and the regicide of his father, King Charles I. Don Jordan and Michael Walsh portrait the punishment and vengeance Charles II sought for those who arranged the beheading of his father in, “The King’s Revenge: Charles II and the Greatest Manhaunt in British History”.
Jordan and Walsh published “The King’s Revenge” a mere five months after “The King’s Bed” (showcasing the intimate life of King Charles II) and more than likely penned it during the same time frame. Yet, “The King’s Revenge” is a step-up from the former work and the authors seemed to abolish some of the issues that were previously present. In “The King’s Revenge”, the co-authors aim to highlight the killing of Charles I, the figures involves, subsequent plots, and the punishments debited out by Charles II once he ascended the throne.
In “The King’s Bed”, it was quite obvious that the authors alternated chapters which lead to an absence of cohesive writing, much choppiness, and repetition. Luckily, this doesn’t seem to be as much of in issue in “The King’s Revenge”. The writing is much smoother, more attentive to the thesis, and appears to have received a proper editing job. Jordan and Walsh successfully combined their voices, making “The King’s Revenge” a stronger piece than expected.
The first ten chapters (slightly shy of the first 200 pages) focuses on the death of Charles I and the plots, machinations, and back-and-forth struggles for political power between Royalists, Rumps, Presbyterians, etc; before Charles II is finally restored to his rightful place on the throne with a scepter in hand. It’s clear that the authors conducted an ample amount of research and the text is truly illuminating and revealing. In fact, “The King’s Revenge” contains many facts and revelations that are new even to those familiar with the topic. There are fewer speculative statements than within the “The King’s Bed” (which was rife with them); making the pages more credible.
Jordan and Walsh’s prose is not overly scholarly and therefore isn’t too dry and, in fact, often has a storytelling narrative which sets the events and environment in a fairly illustrative manner (the authors would be great at penning a historical-fiction piece). This makes “The King’s Revenge” easy-to-read but don’t fret that the pages are dummied down because the work is still academic-enough.
“The King’s Revenge” does run the risk of overwhelming the reader as it showcases a lot of information, happenings, and figures making it slightly difficult to keep track of all of the names of those involved and the events that occurred. Despite this potential roadblock, the reader bypasses this because the material is truly captivating and therefore ‘worth it’.
Once “The King’s Revenge” addresses the actual man haunt and trials of the men guilty of executing Charles I; Jordan and Walsh revert to their clumsy and inconsistent writing style. The content isn’t clear, is jumbled and highly repetitive indicating the alternating authors penning the text. Often times, for example, a figure is discussed – including his jury outcome and punishment meted—and then is discussed again several times afterwards as though he is alive; leaving the reader thinking, “We’ve already been over this”. This noticeably diminishes the value of the “The King’s Revenge” and makes it less compelling and confusing to read.
The concluding chapters highlight the intriguing topic of the flight of some of the regicides including those who lived a life on the run in the New Colonies. Jordan and Walsh present a titillating angle/topic which isn’t regularly discussed elsewhere along with some investigative approaches. However, the authors continue to express jumbled thoughts, jump back-and-forth chronologically, and endorse repetition. Not to mention, the authors employ too many speculative statements and flourishes about emotions or thoughts which are not backed by any credible sources.
If you seek a rushed finality; then you will be pleased with what you find in “The King’s Revenge”. Jordan and Walsh are abrupt and very superficial in their wrapping up of the text. This isn’t meaty or memorable. Luckily, a strong ‘Epilogue’ follows which has a bit of a redeeming quality.
Unlike the delightful appendices in “The King’s Bed”; the two appendices in “The King’s Revenge” (which list the regicides and their fates plus a list of key figures) don’t add any oomph or pizzazz to the text which is disappointing to those readers expecting more. The authors also include ‘Notes’ (not annotated) and a Bibliography. “The King’s Revenge” also includes a section of black-and-white photo plates.
“The King’s Revenge” can certainly be described as a ‘romp’ in the topic of the assignation of Charles I and the punishments of the regicides. However, the text is convoluted, jumbled, repetitive, and ‘messy’ although better in many ways than “The King’s Bed”. It is suggested to read “The King’s Revenge” side-by-side with Killers of the King: The Men Who Dared to Execute Charles I as they work wonderfully together and can answer each others’ questions. “The King’s Revenge” is suggested for Stuart aficionados whom seek to read everything there is about Charles I and II… But, expect a manuscript with faults, confusion, and a rough flow....more
The early years of sixteenth-century Europe were dominated by key players: Henry VIII of England, Francis I of France, and Charles V of Spain. LesserThe early years of sixteenth-century Europe were dominated by key players: Henry VIII of England, Francis I of France, and Charles V of Spain. Lesser known in Western Europe but certainly not less of a tour de force was Suleiman the Magnificent of the Ottoman Turks. These massive figures tugged and pulled at each other constantly influencing affairs. John Julius Norwich takes an uncharacteristic approach to historical biography by mainly focusing on this interplay in, “Four Princes: Henry VIII, Francis I, Charles V, Suleiman the Magnificent and the Obsessions that Forged Modern Europe”.
Norwich prefaces “Four Princes” explaining that his work takes a pop history angle without staunch academic spheres and admittedly contains errors and inconsistencies. Well, it is safe to say that Norwich – unfortunately- speaks the truth. “Four Princes” is a light piece which is suited for those new to the topic as it eschews heavy verbiage or content. Norwich introduces the figures involved but immediately confuses with his aim and thesis. The pages are cluttered and without direction which results in information being difficult to decipher or retain.
“Four Princes” also suffers from issues with cohesiveness, tending to jump back-and-forth with information often repeating facts and skipping in chronology. This adds to the jumbled writing style. On the other hand, this ‘loose’ method makes “Four Princes” easy-to-read and fast in pace.
The major downfall of “Four Princes” is the absence of any new or compelling information regarding the figures. All of the content is generally a rough summary and glossed over. However, the focus on Suleiman is appealing in the respect that this mighty figure is often only mentioned in the background of Western European history even though his hand played a part. Norwich spends an even ratio of text on each figure (even if he didn’t mean to do so) and logically attempts to display the relationships and causations between them.
Norwich is guilty of biases, sadly, which he certainly doesn’t attempt to hide. Many of these declarations are without any credibility or solid source material which lessens the impact of “Four Princes” and consequentially makes readers take the book with a grain of salt. Again, Norwich emphasis the straying from a scholarly route, but a bit more backing material with less opinion would be welcome.
On par with this, Norwich’s writing style is sometimes too familiar and conversational. This will disappoint those readers who enjoy ‘professional’ pieces.
The chapters within the final quarter of “Four Princes” envelop more riveting and lesser-known facts than the former chapters which elevates the strength of Norwich’s piece. However, the authors writing continues to drip with biases and reads like an opinion piece—one filled with many inaccuracies.
Norwich concludes “Four Princes” rather well with an on-point summary that strategically dives into the relations between the figures discussed and therefore somewhat hits his thesis (finally) that he initially planned. However, this still isn’t as memorable as one would hope for and doesn’t pack a powerful punch leaving the reader only partially satisfied.
“Four Princes” includes a very brief bibliography and no ‘Notes’. However, Norwich does include a rather gratifying section of full-color photo plates.
Norwich’s “Four Princes” is an ambitious and unique look at the history of Europe but the execution is sour, without direction, and lacks the usual pizzazz and pull of similar works. Norwich’s writing is jumpy while the content is overly biased and contains errors (at least he warns about this). “Four Princes” is only recommended for novice readers as those versed on the subject won’t gain any refreshing insight or access to any new facts. Simply, “Four Princes” doesn’t hold reader attention and needs a strong editor resulting in a weak read that can be skipped. ...more
History makes it very clear that women often held a diminished (or even non-existent) role in politics, leadership, and even the marital sphere. TheHistory makes it very clear that women often held a diminished (or even non-existent) role in politics, leadership, and even the marital sphere. The female gender, however, had more of an influence and control than one perceives especially during that of Medieval/Renaissance Europe. Sarah Gristwood brings to the forefront examples of these lionesses in, “Game of Queens: The Women Who Made Sixteenth-Century Europe”.
In “Games of Queens”, Gristwood attempts to highlight the roles and interactions of several females of interest who impacted European political affairs such as: Isabella of Castile, Margaret of Austria, Mary of Burgundy, Mary of Hungary, Louise of Savoy, Catherine de Medici, Margaret Tudor, Mary Stuart, Katherine of Aragon, Anne Boleyn, Mary Tudor, Elizabeth I, and Anne of Brittany; to name a few. This is a lofty goal by Gristwood as the web of these women is thick and heavily intertwined. Yet, whether Gristwood is successful or not, is laid aside momentarily for the mere fact of the attempt at this fresh and unique look at history which is often glossed over. Although shelves are rife with individual biographies; Gristwood stands out presenting the macro-view of all these women.
That being said, “Game of Queens” certainly suffers from a bombardment of content that can feel disorganized, repetitive, and sometimes aimless. This isn’t necessarily a fault of Gristwood’s as she has clearly conducted her research and isn’t short of material; however, her writing seems to be a bit overwhelmed which decidedly makes “Games of Queens” overwhelming, in turn. Thus, readers may have a difficult time retaining all of the information offered on the pages.
On the other hand, even though fact-retention is an issue; the overall thesis of proving how important these women were to European history is very clear, solidified, and will impress the reader. In this manner, “Games of Queens” is a compelling piece of writing.
At times, Gristwood is slightly too casual with her tone and language which is inconsistent with other efforts to be on the academic spectrum. This, fortunately, isn’t overly abused with “Game of Queens”; but it is noticeable (Gristwood, for example, seems to be obsessed with the term, ‘party’).
Gristwood peppers “Games of Queens” with some speculative statements yet she also excels with presenting some new information or that which is not generally discussed in the foreground adding to the reader value of the text.
The second half of “Game of Queens” is notable smoother in terms of Gristwood’s choppiness with the content having much more of an appeal and strength. Gristwood debunks some myths and presents some convincing information raising the echelon of the text. “Games of Queens” is much more entertaining at this point and helps to make the weaker former portion more forgivable.
Much of the latter chapters focuses on the Tudor and English connections versus the other women discussed earlier in “Game of Queens”. This is a bit constrained for those familiar with the Tudors. Yet, Griswood continues to uncover some lesser-known areas and “Game of Queens” is therefore better suited to be read with some breaks in order to grasp all of the material. Consequentially, “Game of Queens” proceeds to lose the grip on dissection the roles of the women and missing the thesis instead becoming a standard history-recall piece. At this point, the pace slacks a bit.
A highlight in the concluding chapters is Gristwood’s explanation of the St. Bartholomew’s Massacre which she presents in a riveting and raw voice. The material is easy-to-understand for those new to the topic but is also entertaining for those well-read on the subject.
Gristwood sums up “Games of Queens” with a strong postscript traversing the after-effects and state of Europe post-the discussed women in power. This is followed by a light ‘Notes’ section which also offers some sources for further reading (but, sadly, this is not as in-depth as some fact-checking readers would prefer). “Games of Queens” also includes a section of color plate photos.
Gristwood generally strives to pen pieces focusing on unique subjects or angles of history and “Games of Queens” is no exception. Although “Game of Queens” suffers from some execution issues and some consistency errors; it is a ‘solid’ choice for imbibing on the subject and gaining some insight. “Game of Queens” is recommended for those interested in powerful women of the sixteenth century....more
Castles have captivated the eyes, minds, and hearts of the young and old both in the time of their architectural rise and modern-day not only forCastles have captivated the eyes, minds, and hearts of the young and old both in the time of their architectural rise and modern-day not only for their visual appeal but what they stand for. The questions arise of why castles were built, by whom, and what push-and-pull role did they play with British history? Marc Morris explores these and other curiosities in, “Castles: Their History and Evolution in Medieval Britain”.
Marc Morris’s stylistic approach to “Castles” is to present the topic on a chronological scale of the creation of castles throughout history and the events relating to them but also with a sort of topical feel. “Castles” is instantly entertaining, gripping, and easy-to-read. Morris has an amazing aptitude to “make history fun” and teach an educational lesson while allowing his personal excitement to bleed through the pages. In fact, the readers will find an urge to close the book exclaiming, “I love this!” and will find they are overwhelmed by the joy of the topic.
Although “Castles” can have an informal feel; it also errs on the side of academia with solid, concise research and heavy detective work collectively offered in a memorable way. Readers will come away with a wealth of information.
Morris infuses “Castles” with historic tales and figures which gives a more comprehensive view versus a strictly architectural dissection. Although Morris forewarns that “Castles” isn’t meant o be a comprehensive look; it is still quite solid.
“Castles” is supplemented with illustrations of castle floor plans and a section of photo color plates of the specific castles discussed. Although endearing, the text would be strengthened with photos of the respective castles during the appropriate chapter.
Morris occasionally takes a psychological route within “Castles” and attempts to analyze and break down the minds of castle architects or that of figures interacting with the structures. This adds some depth to “Castles” by bringing a new element to the text.
In the final quarter of “Castles”, Morris employs some comedic charm and humor within the text. In no way does this approach belittle or demean the academic value of the piece and merely serves to make it more entertaining and readable. Conversely, though, there are some moments when the author ‘bad-mouths’ certain figures discussed which is somewhat juvenile and without taste.
Morris concludes “Castles” with a wrap-up of the final days of castles during Stuart England and the transition to the current-day state of buildings. However, Morris missed the opportunity to fully capitalize on the topic of the modern status of castles or what we can expect in the future. Regardless, the ending is firm and well-rounded leaving on a positive note.
Even with some minor drawbacks; “Castle” is a wonderful piece combining entertainment with history making for an enthralling lesson. Morris excels at reaching readers in the most optimal manner and memorably presenting facts. “Castle” is a great read and recommended for all those interested in the topic even if faintly....more
There has been a recent growth of interest in the life of Margaret Douglas, Countess of Lennox. With her ties to the Tudors (Margaret Tudor’sThere has been a recent growth of interest in the life of Margaret Douglas, Countess of Lennox. With her ties to the Tudors (Margaret Tudor’s daughter), the Stuarts, and her son marrying Mary, Queen of Scots; Douglas was a formidable figure, to say the least. That being said, Douglas has yet to be the main subject of prominent texts and therefore the current authors of such pieces make ambitious leaps with their attempts. Morgan Ring joins this group of writers bringing Margret Douglas to light in, “So High a Blood: The Story of Margret Douglas, the Tudor That Time Forgot”.
The jacket blurb of “So High a Blood” boasts the text to be a “fascinating and authoritative portrait”. Sadly, that is quite overstating and overreaching. Rather than showcasing Margaret on a main stage; “So High a Blood” is more of an introduction to Margaret and the events surrounding her. Ring even ventures to include speculative assumptions peppered with some historical inaccuracies which weakens the text moreover.
Even though Margaret is more circumstantial than prime; the discussion is strengthened by Ring’s inclusion of documents and letters offering up the primary source credibility. This shines a light on Margaret and helps to reveal a light layer to her readers.
“So High a Blood” carries its pace well with a smooth flow making it an enjoyable read. Again, the piece isn’t singularly about Margaret so some readers will be let down with those familiar to the topic not learning anything new. However, Ring’s writing serves well as an introduction/overview to Tudor/Stuart interactions.
Slightly before the 100-page mark, “So High a Blood” is more Margaret-centric as the machinations with politics and her son (Henry, Lord Darnley) comes into play. This makes sense as Margaret was literally more involved with the events at the time and thus more documentation is available. A bit more of her psyche is revealed in this sense by learning through her actions. One can understand her psychological background by the steps she followed in her life.
With the progression of “So High a Blood”, Ring’s writing becomes more narrative in flow with a literary-sense of flowery writing. This is great in order to create an illustrative image of the events discussed but some readers may argue that the style has no place in a history piece. Ring could certainly pen a terrific historical-fiction novel that would bear down on the history-end of the equation rather than the fluff.
The concluding chapters of “So High a Blood” reveal Margaret’s movements which, by default, help to unravel her personality; but, Ring still fail to give the open, unfiltered reality that one expects from a heady biography/portrait. This makes sense as not many texts exist on Margaret so Ring didn’t have much to work with but this is still disappointing.
The finality of “So High a Blood” isn’t emotionally gratifying or particularly memorable but Ring saves this with an Epilogue that serves as a rather strong epitaph of Margaret. It doesn’t elevate the entire piece but helps to leave a strong ending impact.
Ring supplements “So High a Blood” with ‘Notes’ (although not annotated), a bibliography, and two sections of color photo plates.
Although readable, easy-to-understand and serving as a valuable introduction to Margaret; “So High a Blood” isn’t the authoritative and fascinating piece it claims to be. Credit is given to Ring for compiling a credible-enough text on an important figure lacking definitive biographies. However, “So High a Blood” doesn’t truly reveal Margaret and merely serves as an introduction to her life and events. Although not perfect, “So High a Blood” is suggested for those readers with an interest in Tudor England (and Stuart relations) and/or seeking a look into Margaret Douglas.
Note: Morgan Ring truly should pen a HF novel. It would be quite compelling. ...more
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