The White Queen, by Philippa Gregory
Aug. 8th, 2010 06:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
velvetpageA couple of weeks ago while wandering through Smithbooks, I picked this up. I didn't buy it then - but I came home and searched for an epub version, and found one. I finished reading it last night.
It's the story of Elizabeth Woodsville, who fell in love with a chance-met York claimant to the throne when the House of York was in the ascendancy and their rivals, their cousins the House of Lancaster, were nearly beaten. Her family had supported the House of Lancaster, to the point where she was a war widow. She had two sons by her Grey husband.
The way they met, their secret marriage, and the fact that Edward IV actually acknowledged the marriage - as he failed to do for one other chance-met lover - were so unusual at the time that one of the explanations given was witchcraft. Gregory took that suggestion and ran with it, along with the fact that Elizabeth's mother, a daughter of the royal house of Burgundy who had married beneath her for love when newly widowed, was saved from a witch's death only by the intervention of a powerful ally.
There are several very intriguing parts about the story. First is the mystery of the missing princes. Though Shakespeare has them dead at their uncle's hand, the truth is nobody was ever sure of that, and there's at least some evidence against it. Gregory explores this mystery, and in fact is going to give another book to the possibility that the younger prince survived.
Far more intriguing to me is her exploration of women's power through the theme of witchcraft. And this goes back to the House of Burgundy and the legend of its founding.
As the legend has it, the first Duke of Burgundy came across a beautiful maiden bathing by a pool, and fell in love. She was a mermaid, and loved him too. They had a deal: that was allowed to bathe in secret to return to her own element, and in return she would be a good wife to him. The sons they had together founded the royal house whose descendants, through prudent marriages, have sat on every throne in Europe. But one day, the duke's curiosity overcame him and he broke his word to his wife by watching her bathe. Of course she became a mermaid when she did, and he was repulsed. She took her daughters, leaving him their sons, and returned to the water. They never saw each other again.
This story is of course the basis for Hans Christian Andersen's telling of the Little Mermaid. Gregory uses it to explore hidden arts as the basis for women's power and for the tension between men and women - men who are so often repulsed by female power and yet drawn to it.
I had never read much about the Wars of the Roses (Lancaster Red and York White) so it was nice to fill in the gaps in my knowledge there. The wars ended when Henry Tudor, great-grandson of one of the last of the Lancastrian Plantagenets, married Elizabeth of York, daughter of Elizabeth Woodsville, and together they founded the House of Tudor. Their son was Henry VIII. Gregory's research is excellent, her portrayal of the times she writes about is neither overly romanticized nor overly harsh, and her ability to paint believable characters who do some questionable things and are yet sympathetic is unsurpassed. It was a very good read.
It's the story of Elizabeth Woodsville, who fell in love with a chance-met York claimant to the throne when the House of York was in the ascendancy and their rivals, their cousins the House of Lancaster, were nearly beaten. Her family had supported the House of Lancaster, to the point where she was a war widow. She had two sons by her Grey husband.
The way they met, their secret marriage, and the fact that Edward IV actually acknowledged the marriage - as he failed to do for one other chance-met lover - were so unusual at the time that one of the explanations given was witchcraft. Gregory took that suggestion and ran with it, along with the fact that Elizabeth's mother, a daughter of the royal house of Burgundy who had married beneath her for love when newly widowed, was saved from a witch's death only by the intervention of a powerful ally.
There are several very intriguing parts about the story. First is the mystery of the missing princes. Though Shakespeare has them dead at their uncle's hand, the truth is nobody was ever sure of that, and there's at least some evidence against it. Gregory explores this mystery, and in fact is going to give another book to the possibility that the younger prince survived.
Far more intriguing to me is her exploration of women's power through the theme of witchcraft. And this goes back to the House of Burgundy and the legend of its founding.
As the legend has it, the first Duke of Burgundy came across a beautiful maiden bathing by a pool, and fell in love. She was a mermaid, and loved him too. They had a deal: that was allowed to bathe in secret to return to her own element, and in return she would be a good wife to him. The sons they had together founded the royal house whose descendants, through prudent marriages, have sat on every throne in Europe. But one day, the duke's curiosity overcame him and he broke his word to his wife by watching her bathe. Of course she became a mermaid when she did, and he was repulsed. She took her daughters, leaving him their sons, and returned to the water. They never saw each other again.
This story is of course the basis for Hans Christian Andersen's telling of the Little Mermaid. Gregory uses it to explore hidden arts as the basis for women's power and for the tension between men and women - men who are so often repulsed by female power and yet drawn to it.
I had never read much about the Wars of the Roses (Lancaster Red and York White) so it was nice to fill in the gaps in my knowledge there. The wars ended when Henry Tudor, great-grandson of one of the last of the Lancastrian Plantagenets, married Elizabeth of York, daughter of Elizabeth Woodsville, and together they founded the House of Tudor. Their son was Henry VIII. Gregory's research is excellent, her portrayal of the times she writes about is neither overly romanticized nor overly harsh, and her ability to paint believable characters who do some questionable things and are yet sympathetic is unsurpassed. It was a very good read.
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(no subject)
Date: 2010-08-08 03:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-08-08 04:10 pm (UTC)But no, I agree, it came out more intelligently and readable than I expected, because I sort of was, I hate to say, expecting drivel.