Burning Sappho by Martha Rofheart

November 10, 2016November 10, 201610 Comments

There are some historical women whose lives have been written about in fiction many times but I think it’s safe to say that Sappho, the Greek lyric poet, doesn’t seem to be one of them. This novel, first published in 1974, is the first I’ve come across that tells her story and much as I do enjoy reading about Tudor queens and medieval princesses, it’s always refreshing to have the opportunity to read about somebody different!

Very little is known for certain about Sappho’s life. We do know that she was born on the Greek island of Lesbos, possibly between 630 and 612BC, and grew up in the port town of Mitylene. We know the probable names of some of her family members and we know that she was exiled from Mitylene twice. Beyond this, most of the information we have about Sappho is unreliable or based on the remaining fragments of her poetry, which may or may not have been autobiographical. It’s enough to build a novel around, though, and in Burning Sappho Martha Rofheart uses the known facts as a starting point to give a possible interpretation of what Sappho’s life could have been like.

We don’t have much factual information about the other characters who appear in the novel either – and I have to admit, I hadn’t even heard of most of them and didn’t know whether they were real or fictional, so Google proved very useful there! Some of the most notable characters include Gorgo, a girl from Sparta who angers Sappho by befriending Andromeda, the Nubian slave purchased by Sappho’s father; Alkaios, a fellow poet and the man Sappho loves; Pittakos, who rules Mitylene after the downfall of the Tyrant, Melanchros; and the famous courtesan Doricha, known as Rhodopis. I was also pleased to see Aesop make a few appearances – one character I had at least heard of!

The novel is divided into five sections; there are two narrated by Sappho herself and one each from the points of view of Alkaios, Doricha/Rhodopis and the sea trader, Kerkylas of Andros. There’s not a lot of difference between the voices of the narrators so it took a while to adjust to each change of perspective, but otherwise I thought the structure worked well. I preferred Sappho’s own narration, but hearing from other people who were close to her helped me to form a more balanced view of her as a person. There seems to be a lot of debate surrounding Sappho’s sexuality (the word lesbian is derived from the name of Sappho’s home, Lesbos), but Rofheart portrays her as having relationships with both men and women. In particular, she is shown to be in love with a girl called Atthis, whose name is mentioned in some of her love poetry.

I always admire people who write fiction set in ancient periods; I think it must be very difficult, when we have such limited knowledge of how people lived in those times. On reading Martha Rofheart’s Author’s Note and list of acknowledgments at the end of the book, I can appreciate the efforts she went to in researching her novel – for example, she states that as the geographical landscape has changed so much over the centuries, she has based her descriptions of the Greek islands on how they appeared in ancient writings rather than modern day ones. However, I still felt that there was something a little bit too ‘modern’ about this book – maybe it was the attitudes of some of the characters and the language they used. It wasn’t a huge problem, but the best way I can explain it is that I was always conscious that I was reading a story written in the 1970s, rather than being completely swept away to another time and place.

Still, I thought this was a fascinating novel and an educational one too. I knew absolutely nothing about this period before I started to read so I don’t feel qualified to comment on the historical accuracy or the choices Rofheart makes, but even if not everything happened as she describes it, I feel that I’ve learned a lot about the history of Lesbos. Although the focus is usually on Sappho and her music, she lived through a time of political turmoil; one of the most memorable scenes in the book describes the overthrow of Melanchros the Tyrant (which is sparked, in Rofheart’s version of events, by Sappho’s performance of a song she has written in protest against the custom of child sacrifice).

Burning Sappho (also published as My Name is Sappho) was an enjoyable read. Although it wasn’t quite as immersive as I would have liked, I thought it was much better than Lionheart, the other Martha Rofheart book I’ve read. She has written several other historical novels, all set in different periods, and I’m looking forward to working my way through them. As for Sappho, I can only find details of one or two other novels about her, but there seems to be plenty of non-fiction, including collections of her surviving writings. Now that I’ve been introduced to this fascinating woman, I’m interested in reading more about her!

Note: The spellings of names and places used in this review are as they appear in the novel and may vary between different sources.

I received a review copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley.

Rebellion by Livi Michael

October 22, 2016October 22, 2016Leave a comment

This is the second in Livi Michael’s trilogy of novels telling the story of the Wars of the Roses from the perspectives of Margaret Beaufort and Margaret of Anjou. After reading the first book, Succession, a few months ago I was keen to continue with the trilogy; Rebellion picks up directly where Succession ended, but as long as you have some knowledge of the period, it’s not really essential to have read the previous novel before starting this one. I’m not going to go into the background to the Wars of the Roses here, though; if you’re not already familiar with it, I’ll refer you to my review of Succession so I don’t bore you by repeating myself!

Rebellion begins shortly after the Battle of Towton, often described as the bloodiest battle ever fought on English soil, which ended in disaster for the House of Lancaster and put a new Yorkist king on the throne – Edward IV. The defeated Henry VI and his wife, Margaret of Anjou, have fled to Scotland and from there Margaret travels to France to plead for help from the French king. Determined to win back the throne for Lancaster and secure the inheritance of her young son, Prince Edward, she eventually returns to England to lead an army into battle against York once again.

We also follow the story of another mother, Margaret Beaufort, whose only son, Henry Tudor, has been taken from her to be raised in the household of a guardian, William Herbert, at Raglan Castle in Wales. Margaret wants nothing more than to be reunited with Henry and can’t bear to think of him growing up in someone else’s care – but Henry is also a Lancastrian heir and it seems that there are people more powerful than Margaret who are making other plans for him.

Rebellion has a wide scope, encompassing most of the key events which occur from 1462-1471 and incorporating many important historical figures of the period from Edward IV and his wife, Elizabeth Woodville, to Margaret Beaufort’s husband (her third), Henry Stafford, and the family of the Earl of Warwick, known as the Kingmaker. We also have our first glimpses of Edward’s younger brother, Richard of Gloucester, who I’m sure we’ll be seeing much more of in the final novel. The characterisation is generally quite well done; my only problem was with the portrayal of Edward IV. I know he wasn’t perfect and, like his grandson Henry VIII, is said to have become fat and gluttonous as he approached middle age, but even so, I don’t think we really needed such graphic descriptions of his bodily functions!

As in the first novel, though, the main focus is on the lives of the two Margarets. I think both of these women are great subjects for historical fiction and both have interesting stories to be told; neither is particularly likeable, but their emotions, ambitions and thought processes are convincingly described. I could feel for Margaret of Anjou as she struggled to keep the Lancastrian hopes alive and I could sympathise with Margaret Beaufort as she suffered the pain of being separated from her beloved son.

I preferred this book to the first one, I think; I found it easier to get into, probably because the first few chapters concentrate on one character (Margaret of Anjou) so the narrative is more continuous at the beginning instead of jumping from one perspective to the next – although there’s plenty of that later in the book. The most notable thing about the previous book, Succession, was the use of medieval chronicles, from which quotes are given at the beginning or end of almost every chapter in such a way that they form a large part of the story. The author uses the same method again in this book, but the extracts seem to be used more sparingly than in the first one, so that they add an interesting angle to the novel without being too much of a distraction.

Rebellion, then, has its good points and its bad, but there’s no doubt that it’s set during a fascinating time in England’s history. Something that comes across strongly in this novel is the uncertainty of the period and the way in which fortunes can unexpectedly rise or fall and hopes and dreams can be destroyed in an instant:

“None of this is as we initially planned,” Warwick said, gazing intently at his son-in-law. “And none of it is set in stone.”

I’m looking forward now to reading Accession, the novel which will bring the trilogy to a close.

Thanks to the publisher, Penguin, for providing a review copy of this book.

Orphans of the Carnival by Carol Birch

October 18, 20165 Comments

It’s been more than five years since I read Carol Birch’s excellent Jamrach’s Menagerie, an adventure novel set in the Victorian period; I had intended to go back and explore her earlier books, but that never happened, so I was pleased to have the opportunity to read her new one, Orphans of the Carnival. It’s a very different book from Jamrach, but just as fascinating in its own way.

Orphans of the Carnival is the story of Julia Pastrana, a Mexican woman born in 1834 with a rare genetic condition, hypertrichosis terminalis, which has resulted in her face and body being covered in thick black hair. In addition to this, Julia also has a jutting jaw and thick gums and lips, caused by another condition called gingival hyperplasia. Julia is an intelligent, talented woman – as well as speaking three languages, she sings and dances well enough to build a career for herself in the circuses and theatres of 19th century America and Europe. However, she knows that the crowds who come to watch are not really interested in her musical ability; they just want to marvel at her unusual looks.

Interspersed with Julia’s story is the story of another woman, this time one who lives in London in the 1980s. Her name is Rose and she’s a hoarder – she hoards useless items she finds in the street, things that other people have thrown away. Near the beginning of the novel, she brings home an old, discarded doll which she names Tattoo; the doll provides a link between Julia and Rose, but we won’t find out exactly what the connection is until we reach the end of the book.

This is an unusual and moving novel based on the life of a real person. Yes, Julia Pastrana really existed and you can easily find pictures and information about her online. Although I didn’t know anything about Julia before I read this book, it seems that Carol Birch has followed the known historical facts as far as possible while using her imagination to fill in the gaps. The novel is written in the third person but mainly from Julia’s perspective and by the end I felt that I knew her well.

Julia is a gentle and sensitive woman, and also quite an innocent and vulnerable one, largely because she has spent so much time sheltered from the outside world, living with friends and colleagues from the circus and carnival circuit and hiding her face behind a veil when she does venture out in public. I had a lot of sympathy for Julia; I’m sure there would be medical treatment and support available for someone born with her conditions today, but in the 1800s there was nothing that could be done. I felt bad for her when she reads a review of one of her performances describing her not just as ugly (which she was prepared to accept) but also as ‘an insult to decency’ – and again when her show is closed down on advice from a doctor who claims that the sight of her face could be harmful to pregnant women.

Eventually, Julia meets Theodore Lent, the man who is to become both her manager and her husband. I found it hard to tell what Theo really thought about Julia. He does seem to have some affection for her, but he also appears to be much more interested in the money to be made than he is in Julia as a person. It’s so sad when Julia, who just wants a husband who loves her, says to Theo: “It’s not love though, is it? Not like it is with other people. Real humans.”

Julia’s story is interesting and compelling, but I don’t think the 1980s sections add very much – in fact, they are just a distraction. The characters aren’t developed in anywhere near as much depth as the historical ones and although I did appreciate the eventual shocking revelation which links the two storylines together, I didn’t feel that it was really necessary.

This isn’t a perfect book, then, and it’s also not one that I can say I ‘enjoyed’ as I found it quite uncomfortable to read (not because of what Julia looks like, but because of the way other people treat her and respond to her). It’s certainly worth reading, though, and I’m glad I’ve had the chance to learn a little bit about the life of Julia Pastrana.

Thanks to Canongate Books for providing a review copy via NetGalley.

Two from Georgette Heyer: Regency Buck and Black Sheep

October 7, 201623 Comments

It’s been a while since I read anything by Georgette Heyer and I still have a lot of her books to get through, so I had a nice surprise a few weeks ago when I found two on the library shelf that I hadn’t read yet: Regency Buck and Black Sheep. Neither of these were near the top of my list of Heyer novels to look out for, but I was still pleased to have the opportunity to read them – and I’m even more pleased to say that I enjoyed both.

Published in 1935, Regency Buck was the first of Heyer’s many novels to be set in the Regency period. It follows the adventures of Judith Taverner and her younger brother, Sir Peregrine (Perry), who have recently been orphaned and, under the terms of their father’s will, have been left under the guardianship of his friend, the fourth Earl of Worth. Leaving their home in Yorkshire, the brother and sister set off for London to meet the Earl. It proves to be a more eventful journey than they expected when they have an unpleasant encounter with an arrogant nobleman on the road. Imagine their horror when they discover that this nobleman is none other than Julian St John Audley, who has inherited the title of Earl of Worth from his father and is therefore their new guardian!

Judith is a strong, independent young woman who is used to doing as she pleases; on arriving in London she sets about making a name for herself by refusing to conform to the conventions of society, but Worth has other ideas as to how she should behave. Unable to see eye to eye with her guardian, Judith is grateful for the friendship and support of her cousin Bernard, with whom she has just become acquainted for the first time. Soon, though, Judith has more important things to worry about. It seems that someone is trying to murder Perry – but who can it be?

Although I had my suspicions as to Worth’s true motives, Heyer misleads us so much that we can’t be completely sure whether he is the hero or the villain. I would usually like this type of character, but Worth just never endeared himself to me; I found him unnecessarily patronising and I really felt for Judith and Perry every time they were forced into yet another humiliating conversation with him. I did like Judith – she’s an intelligent, outspoken and rebellious heroine – and I thought Perry was amusing, with all his youthful enthusiasms! As usual, Heyer’s recreation of the Regency period is vivid and immersive and although the main characters are fictional, there are also some real historical figures who make an appearance in the story. I loved the portrayal of the famous dandy Beau Brummell, particularly in the scene where Judith meets him for the first time – a case of mistaken identity!

Regency Buck is set in London and Brighton, which gives it a slightly different feel from the second of the two books I read, Black Sheep, which is set in Bath…

At twenty-eight and still single, it is looking unlikely that Abby Wendover will ever marry. Instead, she is concerning herself with the love affairs of her seventeen-year-old niece, Fanny, whose romance with the handsome, dashing Mr Stacy Calverleigh has become the talk of Bath. Although Fanny’s other aunt, Selina, has been taken in by Stacy’s charms, Abby is convinced he is nothing more than a fortune hunter and determines to free Fanny from his clutches. However, when Stacy’s uncle, Miles Calverleigh – the ‘black sheep’ of the family – also arrives in Bath, Abby finds herself drawn into a relationship which is considered even more unsuitable than Fanny’s!

Black Sheep, published in 1966, is a later Heyer novel. It’s one of my favourites so far and that is largely because of its wonderful hero and heroine. I loved both Abby and Miles and found myself looking forward to every scene they were in together. They feel like two people who really would have liked and understood each other, rather than characters who are just being forced together for the sake of the plot – there’s a genuine chemistry between them and the dialogue really sparkles! I liked the fact that Abby is a little bit older than the average Heyer heroine (she reminded me in some ways of Anne Elliot in Persuasion); she’s a sensible, mature woman whose romance with Miles is of a very different nature than Fanny’s with Stacy.

As I said at the start of this post, I enjoyed reading both of these novels. I was particularly relieved to find that I liked Regency Buck as it doesn’t seem to be a very popular book with Heyer fans! I probably wouldn’t recommend that one to readers new to Heyer, though; of these two, I think Black Sheep would be a much better place to start.

Have you read either of these? What are your favourite Heyer novels?

Restoration by Rose Tremain

October 5, 2016October 5, 201618 Comments

Rose Tremain is a new author for me, but I’ve been meaning to try one of her books for a long time. Her 1989 novel Restoration seemed like my sort of book and knowing that I need to read the sequel, Merivel: A Man of His Time, for my Walter Scott Prize project gave me the motivation to pick it up and start reading. It also counts towards my Ten from the TBR project, which has been sadly neglected this year!

Restoration is set in 17th century England in the years following the restoration of the monarchy; the title refers not just to the time period but also to the personal restoration of a man’s self-respect and his place in the world. That man is Robert Merivel, a glovemaker’s son and trained physician who, near the beginning of the novel, obtains a position at the court of Charles II as surgeon to the king’s spaniels. Merivel is quickly swept away by the fun and frivolity of the court, making himself popular by playing the fool and entertaining the king.

It’s not long, however, before the king comes to Merivel with a request for help. Charles requires a husband for one of his mistresses, Celia Clemence – someone who will be a husband in name only, giving Celia a form of respectability while the king continues his affair with her. Merivel agrees to marry her and at first is delighted with the country estate in Norfolk which he is given as part of the deal. Everything is going well until Celia comes to join him there and Merivel discovers that he is falling in love with his wife…something he has been strictly forbidden to do.

Restoration is narrated by Robert Merivel himself and I found him both a fascinating and a frustrating character, more anti-hero than hero. Irresponsible and immature, you get the impression he is stumbling through life from one disaster to another, with no clear purpose in sight – and yet, despite his flaws and his failures, you can’t help feeling for him as he falls out of favour with the king. While I can’t say that I actually liked Merivel, he is an engaging narrator and his story is told with such an appealing mixture of humour and sensitivity that I was captivated by him and hoped that he would find a way to restore his fortunes.

Rose Tremain’s lively writing style perfectly suits the time period in which the novel is set. I always enjoy reading about the 1660s and I liked the contrast here between the descriptions of Merivel’s life as a country gentleman, his adventures at court and his time practising medicine in London. Merivel is in London during the Plague and the Great Fire, which are both vividly recreated. However, there is a long section in the middle of the book set in an asylum run by Merivel’s Quaker friend, Pearce, and I found my attention starting to wander during these chapters. I could see the importance of this section to the plot and to Merivel’s personal development, but I struggled to feel any interest in the new characters we meet at the asylum and I thought the whole episode went on for far too long.

Overall, though, I was impressed with this book and with my first experience of Rose Tremain’s writing. I’ll be interested to see how Robert’s story continues in Merivel, which I’m hoping to start soon.

Elizabeth the Beloved by Maureen Peters

September 25, 201613 Comments

“Sometimes it is an exceedingly sad thing to be a queen.” These words are spoken by Anne Neville, wife of Richard III, halfway through Maureen Peters’ Elizabeth the Beloved, but they are words which could just as easily be attributed to any number of England’s other queens, including the title character of this novel – Elizabeth of York. Born in 1466, Elizabeth was the daughter of Edward IV and Elizabeth Woodville; she later married Henry VII and became mother to another king – the future Henry VIII.

Beginning with her childhood, this novel follows Elizabeth through the years, covering some of the key moments and events of her life and her time as queen. Growing up during the final years of the Wars of the Roses, things were not always easy for Elizabeth. As the elder sister of the Princes in the Tower who disappeared and were believed to have been murdered, she then had to endure the appearance of several ‘pretenders’ claiming to be her younger brothers. One of these pretenders, Perkin Warbeck, is given a lot of attention in the second half of the book as his story becomes entwined with Elizabeth’s.

Maureen Peters was a Welsh historical novelist who, like Jean Plaidy, wrote a large number of novels covering the lives of famous historical figures. Elizabeth the Beloved was published in 1972 and is the third of her books that I’ve read – the first two were The Queenmaker and The Virgin Queen, about Bess of Hardwick and Elizabeth I respectively. I had some criticisms of those other two books and was hesitant about trying another one, but I’m glad I gave this one a chance as I thought it was better written, more interesting and much more enjoyable.

This novel is written in the third person from the viewpoints of several different characters and at first there was so much jumping around from one perspective to another that it made my head spin. After a while, though, things settled down and the narrative began to concentrate on Elizabeth herself. I liked the way Elizabeth was portrayed as a warm, caring, sensitive woman but also an intelligent one who would have liked to have played a bigger role in politics and the running of the country if she had only been given the opportunity.

I had no major problems with inaccuracy, although Peters does stick faithfully to the traditional legends surrounding the Wars of the Roses, such as the Duke of Clarence being drowned in a butt of malmsey, for which there’s no real evidence one way or the other. She also suggests that Elizabeth and her uncle, Richard III, were in love and may have been considering marrying when it became obvious that Richard’s wife, Anne, was dying. I’ve come across this theory before in other books, but as far as I know there’s not much evidence for this idea either; it seems to be based around a letter allegedly sent by Elizabeth to the Duke of Norfolk in which marriage is referred to. If you want to know more about this, I found an excellent, thorough article on the subject.

Of course, one of the reasons I love reading about this period so much is that there are so many mysteries and controversies: things like the fate of the Princes in the Tower and the nature of the relationship between Richard and Elizabeth are open to interpretation by each individual author or historian. Like the other Maureen Peters novels I’ve read, however, this is a fairly short novel and I think the author’s aim was probably to give an overview of the period suitable as an introduction for readers who have never read about Elizabeth of York before. She doesn’t go into a great amount of detail and some of the people and events which usually appear in books on the Wars of the Roses are entirely omitted here.

Although I can’t really say that I learned anything new, I found Elizabeth the Beloved a quick and entertaining read and enjoyed immersing myself in my favourite time period once again!

I received a copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley for review.

Sovereign by CJ Sansom

September 23, 201611 Comments

Sovereign is the third in CJ Sansom’s Shardlake mystery series set in Tudor England and I found it every bit as good as the first two. The front cover states that it is “So compulsive that, until you reach its final page, you’ll have to be almost physically prised away from it”. Well, I wouldn’t go quite that far, but it was certainly a gripping story and while I’m not sure that it really needed to be over 600 pages long, I never found myself getting bored.

The novel opens in 1541, as Henry VIII embarks on his Progress to the North, a state visit with the aim of allowing those who rebelled during the recent Pilgrimage of Grace to make their formal apologies to the king. The royal progress is heading for York – and so are lawyer Matthew Shardlake and his assistant, Jack Barak. Officially, Shardlake will be dealing with petitions to the king made by the people of York, but he has also been given another task to carry out. An important prisoner, Sir Edward Broderick, is due to be brought from York to London, and Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury, has asked Shardlake to take responsibility for Broderick’s welfare as he doesn’t want the prisoner to die before he can be questioned in the Tower.

Shortly after arriving in York, the murder of a glazier leaves Shardlake in possession of a chest of documents which, if they fall into the wrong hands, could be used to destroy the king. Shardlake barely has time to look at the documents before they are stolen again, but the little bit of knowledge he has gained puts his own life at risk. To make matters worse, he and Barak stumble upon a liaison between the king’s wife, Catherine Howard, and one of her courtiers, Thomas Culpeper; it seems that danger is closing in on them from all sides.

The first Shardlake novel, Dissolution, was set in a monastery, and the next, Dark Fire, took us into the heart of Tudor London; Sansom did a wonderful job of bringing those settings to life and he does the same here with York, capturing the mood of the people in the aftermath of a failed rebellion – people whose political and religious beliefs are not necessarily in alignment with the king’s. I enjoyed reading about the preparations for the arrival of the Progress and what was involved in providing food, accommodation and other amenities for not just the king and queen, but also their entourage of hundreds of courtiers, attendants and servants.

If you haven’t read the previous two books, I don’t think it’s completely necessary as this one does work as a standalone mystery with a beginning, middle and end, but I think I would still recommend reading them in order. There are some recurring characters in the series and it would be best to get to know them from their first appearance.

Barak came into the series in the second book, Dark Fire, and his relationship with Shardlake continues to develop in this book, but it also becomes strained after he falls in love with Tamasin Reedbourne, a servant in Queen Catherine’s household. There is no woman in Shardlake’s life and it does seem that he is jealous of Barak’s relationship with Tamasin – not because he’s attracted to Tamasin himself but because he resents his friend having another attachment. Shardlake comes across as quite a lonely person, I think, which is understandable as he has spent a lifetime being shunned for having a hunched back. He suffers a lot of cruel jibes and ridicule during his time in York, including a humiliation at the hands of the king, which completes the disillusionment with Henry which has been growing in him since Dissolution.

I have barely mentioned the actual mystery yet, but I can assure you that Shardlake does have a mystery to solve in this novel. It centres around a conspiracy dating back to the days of Edward IV and Richard III and I found this element of the story interesting as it showed the extent to which information relating to the Plantagenets was suppressed and covered up by the Tudors. For me, though, the mystery was secondary to the characters and the vivid Tudor setting.

I think this was probably my favourite of the Shardlake novels so far, but I still have another three to read and am planning to continue soon with the fourth one, Revelation.