This book should have been titled "Bring up the Bastards" for there aren't any nice people in it.
This is the story told in the viewpoint and voice of Thomas Cromwell, or Cremuel in the vernacular of the time, King Henry VIII's "Master of Everything" a blacksmith's son who rises to become the power behind the throne, the master puppeteer who manipulates everyone, including his sovereign, to feed his insecurity and stay on the treadmill of power and privilege.
In this second book in the series, it is time for Cromwell to shuffle the chairs on deck again and get rid of the queen he installed three years ago, Anne Boleyn, because she is unable to produce a male heir and has been rumoured to be behaving inappropriately with her courtiers, and mainly because she is making him nervous with her ambition that could unseat his position of influence with His Majesty.
Cromwell's insecurity and desire to be scandal-free leads him to live a sterile life after his wife, daughters and sisters pass away prematurely before this book begins.
Henry is a playful megalomaniac, roaming the country with his travelling court, scrounging off rich nobles, fancying himself a jouster yet getting knocked off his horse, and casting a roving eye on innocent damsels who might produce him an heir, knowing full well that his decaying body will not co-operate.
Henry justifies the removal of his wives by inventing something that they did wrong and leaves Cromwell to put meat on that bone.
And our Cremuel does so with marvelous manipulation; Katherine in the previous book, and Anne in this one, and the other three in the next books in this series that are undoubtedly to come, I'm sure.
Cromwell unfortunately will not last the run of Henry's wives (six in total) for history tells us that Henry got bored with his jack-of-all-trades and off'd Cremuel after wife #4 soured.
But this book comes before all that and focuses on the demise of wife # 2, Anne: beautiful lady of the French court, ambitious for her own line to be part of British royalty (which she achieved posthumously through her daughter Elizabeth I), supposedly guilty of many amorous affairs as Queen with none proven but all of which that provide Cromwell with grist for his executioner's mill.
For all their privilege, these royals have the hardest time procreating, testament perhaps to in-breeding, high infant mortality and the sheer pressure that a birth caused in the power structures upholding the monarchy at the time.
Women are breeders and men are schemers, and the tell-tale sign of a swelling royal belly sets many sub-plots in motion.
The courtiers and court ladies are a bunch of snakes, willing to tell-tales to save their own skin.
Anne herself comes across as a cold, unsympathetic bitch and one wonders whether her fate was pre-ordained given the stakes she played in.
Her unseated rival, Katherine, is an old crone, dying in a convent, and the wannabe queen-in-waiting, Jane Seymour (pronounced Semer), is a plain, virtuous woman who will, no doubt, bore Horny Henry after a couple of rolls in the royal sack.
And on the macro level, Henry's amorous adventures create tremors among his allies and enemies, notably the Holy Roman Emperor, the Roman Catholic Church, and the French court.
Cromwell has to balance all these variables as he spins his web.
To his credit, he is a visionary and hopes that one day England will be a great socialist nation where the rich will be taxed to pay the wages of the poor.
Although there are no good people here, the story circles around parties, hunts and back room meetings where plots are hatched and allegiances made and unmade, and one gets a good feel for the lifestyle, sensibilities and pre-occupations of the period.
Henry's obsessive ramblings on Anne's unfaithfulness is a bit tedious, as is the author's insistence on calling Cromwell "he" all the time.
After awhile we get our "he"s mixed up, especially when two or more male characters are in a scene together.
Even the additional qualifier "he, Cromwell" is a clumsy compensation.
I'm not sure that every twist and turn in this book is needed but it appears that the author is trying to stay true to the historical record in this rendition, and in that she has succeeded by breathing vivid life into what must be just a bunch of fraying papers reposing in the British royal archive.
This is the story told in the viewpoint and voice of Thomas Cromwell, or Cremuel in the vernacular of the time, King Henry VIII's "Master of Everything" a blacksmith's son who rises to become the power behind the throne, the master puppeteer who manipulates everyone, including his sovereign, to feed his insecurity and stay on the treadmill of power and privilege.
In this second book in the series, it is time for Cromwell to shuffle the chairs on deck again and get rid of the queen he installed three years ago, Anne Boleyn, because she is unable to produce a male heir and has been rumoured to be behaving inappropriately with her courtiers, and mainly because she is making him nervous with her ambition that could unseat his position of influence with His Majesty.
Cromwell's insecurity and desire to be scandal-free leads him to live a sterile life after his wife, daughters and sisters pass away prematurely before this book begins.
Henry is a playful megalomaniac, roaming the country with his travelling court, scrounging off rich nobles, fancying himself a jouster yet getting knocked off his horse, and casting a roving eye on innocent damsels who might produce him an heir, knowing full well that his decaying body will not co-operate.
Henry justifies the removal of his wives by inventing something that they did wrong and leaves Cromwell to put meat on that bone.
And our Cremuel does so with marvelous manipulation; Katherine in the previous book, and Anne in this one, and the other three in the next books in this series that are undoubtedly to come, I'm sure.
Cromwell unfortunately will not last the run of Henry's wives (six in total) for history tells us that Henry got bored with his jack-of-all-trades and off'd Cremuel after wife #4 soured.
But this book comes before all that and focuses on the demise of wife # 2, Anne: beautiful lady of the French court, ambitious for her own line to be part of British royalty (which she achieved posthumously through her daughter Elizabeth I), supposedly guilty of many amorous affairs as Queen with none proven but all of which that provide Cromwell with grist for his executioner's mill.
For all their privilege, these royals have the hardest time procreating, testament perhaps to in-breeding, high infant mortality and the sheer pressure that a birth caused in the power structures upholding the monarchy at the time.
Women are breeders and men are schemers, and the tell-tale sign of a swelling royal belly sets many sub-plots in motion.
The courtiers and court ladies are a bunch of snakes, willing to tell-tales to save their own skin.
Anne herself comes across as a cold, unsympathetic bitch and one wonders whether her fate was pre-ordained given the stakes she played in.
Her unseated rival, Katherine, is an old crone, dying in a convent, and the wannabe queen-in-waiting, Jane Seymour (pronounced Semer), is a plain, virtuous woman who will, no doubt, bore Horny Henry after a couple of rolls in the royal sack.
And on the macro level, Henry's amorous adventures create tremors among his allies and enemies, notably the Holy Roman Emperor, the Roman Catholic Church, and the French court.
Cromwell has to balance all these variables as he spins his web.
To his credit, he is a visionary and hopes that one day England will be a great socialist nation where the rich will be taxed to pay the wages of the poor.
Although there are no good people here, the story circles around parties, hunts and back room meetings where plots are hatched and allegiances made and unmade, and one gets a good feel for the lifestyle, sensibilities and pre-occupations of the period.
Henry's obsessive ramblings on Anne's unfaithfulness is a bit tedious, as is the author's insistence on calling Cromwell "he" all the time.
After awhile we get our "he"s mixed up, especially when two or more male characters are in a scene together.
Even the additional qualifier "he, Cromwell" is a clumsy compensation.
I'm not sure that every twist and turn in this book is needed but it appears that the author is trying to stay true to the historical record in this rendition, and in that she has succeeded by breathing vivid life into what must be just a bunch of fraying papers reposing in the British royal archive.
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