Sharon Penman: Devil's Brood
Sharon Penman is one of the authors whom I always enjoy reading. In different degrees, to be sure; some of her novels are so great they make read them immediately after finishing them the first time around, others are just okay-ish, and I'm not sure I'll read them again even in ten years. But even the mediocre ones feel like a comfortable weekend in a place you just plain like visiting.
With her most recent trilogy, the first volume, When Christ and his Saints Slept (Maud, Stephen, and the young Eleanor of Aquitaine and Henry II) was of the "OMG THIS IS GREAT!!!" variety, whereas the second one, Time and Change, was merely of the okay-ish variety. Partly for unavoidable reasons (middle book, no real resolutions around), partly because Penman couldn't make up her mind on Thomas Becket, who by necessity had to be an important character in this era. I don't blame her; I never can make up my mind, either. However, with Devil's Brood, which covers the time from the Eleanor/Henry fallout till Henry's death, we're back to "this is great" writing again. Mind you, I'm not surprised that it wasn't as popular as When Christ and his Saints Slept. Because the first novel of the trilogy, while having its share of tragedy, ends on an optimistic and happy note, with the last third devoted to Eleanor and Henry meeting, marrying and getting England. The third one, of course, is the story of their Edward Albee phase, and the marital tragedy goes hand in hand with their sons turning against each other and their father: its the Plantagenets at their height of dysfunctionality. And yet it also is has its share of hope, albeit of a different kind then the first volume; Penman credibly gives Eleanor an emotional arc through the novel that allows her to grow from all that happens, not just as a survivor which she always was, but as someone who still can learn from her mistakes; she goes from being smart to becoming wise, which is a different thing.
What I also appreciate is that this trilogy pulls off the same trick repeatedly, which is making people on different sides equally understandable and sympathetic. In the first volume, this is true for Maude and Stephen; here in the last one, it's true for Eleanor and Henry, and for their sons, which is truly a rare feat. (Even James Goldman couldn't disguise he liked Geoffrey best. It's also a difference to Penman's (decades) earlier novel Here Be Dragons which covers John's reign, and in which Richard who briefly appears at the beginning is an unsympathetic character. Not so here.) Moreover, the fallout between Eleanor and Henry is treated as a complex development not due to a single reason. The Rosamund affair being just one of many elements; very refreshing when you get a female main character, politics and a power struggle are far more important ones as far as Eleanor is concerned. As far as Henry is concerned, here Penman accomplishes something as interesting, because quite often in historical novels you have weak kings who lose power, and you have strong kings who keep it, but with Henry you get a smart and strong king who still bears as much responsibility as anyone else for the catastrophic in-fighting that marked the last decade of his regime because of his own flaws and increasing inability to see anyone else's pov. His personal storyline is a tragedy fulfilling the Aristetolian requirements: partly through fate, but just as much through his own fault.
So, all in all: a very good historical novel, especially if you're fond of the Plantagenets. Dysfunctional lot that they were.
With her most recent trilogy, the first volume, When Christ and his Saints Slept (Maud, Stephen, and the young Eleanor of Aquitaine and Henry II) was of the "OMG THIS IS GREAT!!!" variety, whereas the second one, Time and Change, was merely of the okay-ish variety. Partly for unavoidable reasons (middle book, no real resolutions around), partly because Penman couldn't make up her mind on Thomas Becket, who by necessity had to be an important character in this era. I don't blame her; I never can make up my mind, either. However, with Devil's Brood, which covers the time from the Eleanor/Henry fallout till Henry's death, we're back to "this is great" writing again. Mind you, I'm not surprised that it wasn't as popular as When Christ and his Saints Slept. Because the first novel of the trilogy, while having its share of tragedy, ends on an optimistic and happy note, with the last third devoted to Eleanor and Henry meeting, marrying and getting England. The third one, of course, is the story of their Edward Albee phase, and the marital tragedy goes hand in hand with their sons turning against each other and their father: its the Plantagenets at their height of dysfunctionality. And yet it also is has its share of hope, albeit of a different kind then the first volume; Penman credibly gives Eleanor an emotional arc through the novel that allows her to grow from all that happens, not just as a survivor which she always was, but as someone who still can learn from her mistakes; she goes from being smart to becoming wise, which is a different thing.
What I also appreciate is that this trilogy pulls off the same trick repeatedly, which is making people on different sides equally understandable and sympathetic. In the first volume, this is true for Maude and Stephen; here in the last one, it's true for Eleanor and Henry, and for their sons, which is truly a rare feat. (Even James Goldman couldn't disguise he liked Geoffrey best. It's also a difference to Penman's (decades) earlier novel Here Be Dragons which covers John's reign, and in which Richard who briefly appears at the beginning is an unsympathetic character. Not so here.) Moreover, the fallout between Eleanor and Henry is treated as a complex development not due to a single reason. The Rosamund affair being just one of many elements; very refreshing when you get a female main character, politics and a power struggle are far more important ones as far as Eleanor is concerned. As far as Henry is concerned, here Penman accomplishes something as interesting, because quite often in historical novels you have weak kings who lose power, and you have strong kings who keep it, but with Henry you get a smart and strong king who still bears as much responsibility as anyone else for the catastrophic in-fighting that marked the last decade of his regime because of his own flaws and increasing inability to see anyone else's pov. His personal storyline is a tragedy fulfilling the Aristetolian requirements: partly through fate, but just as much through his own fault.
So, all in all: a very good historical novel, especially if you're fond of the Plantagenets. Dysfunctional lot that they were.