This is the winter of our discontent - and huge gas bills
I can't believe it is still snowing! Bloody ridiculous, it's nearly Easter! No news yet on the job front but not looking particularly positive. I'm well past the point where I give a shit though. I've never starved a winter yet after all.
Just after Christmas I read Antony and Cleopatra by Adrian Goldsworthy and which was a biography of the two both as individuals and as the Ancient world's most famous power couple. It was scholarly yet accessible with Goldsworthy taking care not to speculate too much on the personal feelings of the two. Which we can't possibly now know. The only point at which it slipped into sentiment was the end when Goldsworthy stated while archeologists have looked for their graves in Alexandria he hopes that they remain unfound and they are left together in peace. It's very difficult for even the best historians to remain completely objective.
This was in stark contrast to the recently read Eleanor of Aquitaine by Marion Meade. There's nothing particularly inaccurate in it as far as the facts go but it's just full of speculation about how she felt about this, that and the other which no one can possibly know. It read more like historical fiction than a biography. There is a huge volume of literature about Eleanor of course but most of it falls into the category of historical fiction and of course if you look in the history section the biography you're most likely to find is the bloody awful one by Alison Weir.
There is nothing wrong with popular history but there is no reason why popular has to be awful and inaccurate and the popularity of the aforementioned Weir and Phillipa Gregory makes me quite cross.
Post Christmas I also finished listening to BBC 4's 9 part drama series Plantagenet which stars, Henry II, Richard I, John, Edward I, Edward II, Richard II, Henry V, Henry VI and Richard III. It is historical drama at it's very best and in addition to a fabulous Eleanor of Aquitaine (best line? 'Just because a man has had his cock in you, Richard, doesn't mean he owns you, look at your father and me!' promptly answered by an appalled, "Mother!') also stars an equally brilliant Margaret of Anjou. I am keen now to know more about Margaret but all that seems to be available is the tosh that is churned out about Queens. Shame.
Just after Christmas I read Antony and Cleopatra by Adrian Goldsworthy and which was a biography of the two both as individuals and as the Ancient world's most famous power couple. It was scholarly yet accessible with Goldsworthy taking care not to speculate too much on the personal feelings of the two. Which we can't possibly now know. The only point at which it slipped into sentiment was the end when Goldsworthy stated while archeologists have looked for their graves in Alexandria he hopes that they remain unfound and they are left together in peace. It's very difficult for even the best historians to remain completely objective.
This was in stark contrast to the recently read Eleanor of Aquitaine by Marion Meade. There's nothing particularly inaccurate in it as far as the facts go but it's just full of speculation about how she felt about this, that and the other which no one can possibly know. It read more like historical fiction than a biography. There is a huge volume of literature about Eleanor of course but most of it falls into the category of historical fiction and of course if you look in the history section the biography you're most likely to find is the bloody awful one by Alison Weir.
There is nothing wrong with popular history but there is no reason why popular has to be awful and inaccurate and the popularity of the aforementioned Weir and Phillipa Gregory makes me quite cross.
Post Christmas I also finished listening to BBC 4's 9 part drama series Plantagenet which stars, Henry II, Richard I, John, Edward I, Edward II, Richard II, Henry V, Henry VI and Richard III. It is historical drama at it's very best and in addition to a fabulous Eleanor of Aquitaine (best line? 'Just because a man has had his cock in you, Richard, doesn't mean he owns you, look at your father and me!' promptly answered by an appalled, "Mother!') also stars an equally brilliant Margaret of Anjou. I am keen now to know more about Margaret but all that seems to be available is the tosh that is churned out about Queens. Shame.