Contest Winner

The winner of Karen Harper's MISTRESS OF MOURNING, 

chosen at random, is

Susan Higginbotham

Thanks to all who participated!

A King and his Books: The Libraries of François I

"Roi chevalier" (warrior-king) though he was, François I might just as readily--and appropriately--have claimed the title "Roi lecteur" (reader-king). François's love of books contributed not only to the blossoming of the literary arts in sixteenth century France but to the foundation of the crown jewel of French letters, the Bibliothèque nationale (National Library).

Engraving of an anonymous miniature showing 

Antoine Macault reading his translation of Diodorus Siculus 

to François I and his sons

Educated according to humanist principles, François spent his youth reading the works of the ancients in Latin, as well as poetry and chronicles composed in French. Determined to see his kingdom achieve the intellectual and artistic renown Italy enjoyed, he supported the literary arts once he ascended to the throne, patronizing, among others, the poet Clément Marot and composing some two hundred poems of his own (Knecht, Francis I, 84). So great was François's love of letters that he created the post of lecteur du roi, an attendant whose chief duty was to read aloud to the king, particularly at mealtimes. Whenever François traveled, two chests filled with works of Roman history and French romances accompanied him.

François loved to collect books and manuscripts as much as to read them. Initially, he housed his books in a library at the château de Blois. Antonio De Beatis described this library in 1517:

[I]n the castle, or rather palace, we saw a library consisting of a sizeable room not only furnished with shelves from end to end but also lined with book-cases from floor to ceiling, and literally packed with books--to say nothing of those put away in chests in an inner room. These books are all of parchment, handwritten in beautiful lettering and bound in silk of various colours, with elaborate locks and clasps of gilt [quoted in Knecht, Renaissance Warrior and Patron, 471-72].

In 1518, the Blois collection included 1,626 volumes, of which forty-one were in Greek, four in Hebrew and two in Arabic. Throughout his reign, François expanded these holdings, commissioning agents to travel to Italy and the Near East to seek out and purchase rare books and instructing his diplomats to buy or copy all the Greek manuscripts they could find.

After the death of his wife Queen Claude in 1524, François began to assemble a second library at the château de Fontainebleau. He dedicated the third floor of his private wing, directly above the famed gallery decorated by the Italian artist Rosso Fiorentino and the bathing suite, to this library. In 1544, François moved the entire Blois collection, now numbering 1,890 items, to Fontainebleau, combining them with the few hundred books and manuscripts already there.

Library at Fontainebleau. 

Photo credit: Sébastien Bouthillette

Contemporaries marveled at the magnificence of the library's decoration, the quality and rarity of its holdings, and the hospitality with which visiting scholars were welcomed to consult them.

Even as François acquired Latin and Greek manuscripts, the printing industry flourished in France. In order to keep up with the flow of books spilling off presses at home and abroad, the king issued the Ordinance of Montpellier in December 1537. This royal decree ordered all printers and booksellers to deposit with the royal library a copy of any printed book put on sale in the kingdom. Although it does not appear to have been strictly enforced, the Montpellier ordinance is considered to be the first law of legal deposit enacted anywhere.

In 1567, some twenty years after François's death, the royal library, now consisting of 3,650 titles, was brought to Paris, where it became the nucleus of the Bibliothèque nationale. Ultimately, the books François loved and collected nourished the intellectual curiosity of an entire nation, for generations.

Sources:
A. Franklin, Précis de l'histoire de la Bibliothèque du roi, aujourd'hui Bibliothèque nationale (Paris, 1875).
    http://www.archive.org/stream/prcisdelhistoir00frangoog#page/n11/mode/2up
R. J. Knecht, Francis I (Cambridge UP, 1984)
----,  Renaissance Warrior and Patron: The Reign of Francis I (Cambridge UP, 1994)

MISTRESS OF MOURNING Giveaway

Excited to read Karen Harper's new novel, MISTRESS OF MOURNING? Here's your chance to win a free copy, graciously provided by the author. To enter the drawing, comment below with your email address. Contest open to continental US readers only; entries accepted until midnight, July 31, 2012. Winner's name, drawn at random, will be posted on Wednesday, August 1. Good luck!

Interview with Author Karen Harper

Today, author Karen Harper discusses her latest novel, MISTRESS OF MOURNING (New American Library).

Q:  Welcome, Karen. Can you tell us a bit about your new novel?

A. I've always wondered about the first Tudors—King Henry VII and his wife Elizabeth of York, the dynasty’s founders.  But my fascination with Henry VIII and the later Queen Elizabeth Tudor always kept me researching and writing in that later Tudor era for my novels. MISTRESS OF MOURNING has two heroines—Queen Elizabeth of York (mother of Henry VIII) and Varina Westcott, a merchant-era wax chandler.  These women bond during the time Varina is hired to carve death effigies for two of the queen’s children lost in childhood.  Varina too has lost a son and when Arthur, Prince of Wales, dies under mysterious circumstances while on his honeymoon with his bride Catherine of Aragon, the queen asks Varina to discover whether Arthur was murdered.  The novel also probes the murders of the queen’s two brothers, the Princes in the Tower.

Q:  So MISTRESS OF MOURNING  is murder mystery (three murders of young princes) within a historical novel.  Why did you decide to write a mystery instead of a “straight” historical as you have with your earlier books like MISTRESS SHAKESPEARE and THE QUEEN’S GOVERNESS?

A:  The era and the plot just ran smack into these murders, all of which are yet debated today?  Who murdered the Princes in the Tower is still argued today.  Many blame King Richard III, but there is another possible royal villain too.  (Yes, that’s a teaser.)  Later, in the Reign of King Charles II, in July of 1674, during some rebuilding in the White Tower, the bones of two children were found in an elm chest that was covered by rubble at a depth of about ten feet.  This was under a staircase that led to the king’s lodging.  At King Charles’s request, the bones were interred in a white marble urn designed by Sir Christopher Wren and placed in the Henry VII chapel at Westminster Abbey, close to the tomb of their sister.  But who murdered them?  There are several ‘persons of interest.’

As for Arthur Tudor’s demise, that is yet being investigated.  Ground-probing radar has been used to pinpoint his final resting place beneath the limestone floor of Worcester Cathedral.  Professor John Hunter of Birmingham University has worked on the investigation, although so far the current queen has not given her permission for the exhumation of Arthur’s body to perform toxicology tests.  Of course, if Arthur had not died, Henry VIII would never have been king.  If the Princes in the Tower had not died, perhaps the Tudors would never have come to the throne at all.

Q:  So tell us more about the amateur sleuth for the novel, Varina Westcott.

A:  I found it fascinating that chandlers (candle makers) also produced waxen death shrouds as well as funeral candles in the Medieval and Tudor eras.  Best of all for this story, because their shops made these waxen wraps for noble and royal corpses, chandler often worked as undertakers.  So it made sense that Varina could be sent to Ludlow Castle in Wales where Arthur died to over see his preparations for burial—but also to learn if he was poisoned. 

Coat of arms, Wax Chandlers Guild

Another fascinating thing about Varina is that she has inherited her father’s talent of being able to carve death masks.  Royalty and some elite of that day wanted effigies atop their coffins for the funeral processions, and the effigies had carved faces of how they looked in life.  Funeral candles were also a huge business.  Even the poor saved for years to buy votive candles for their funerals—the more candles, the quicker they believed they got out of purgatory.

Q:  Does this novel include a love story as did your earlier Renaissance era books?

A:  Actually, there are two romances in MISTRESS OF MOURNING.  The marriage between Henry VII and Elizabeth of York has been much debated since he was a rather austere character, yet they seemed to have a strong, loving marriage.  I give the reader a glimpse into that and show how it effected their children, especially Henry VIII who is only ten when the novel begins.  Varina falls in love with Nicholas Sutton, an ambitious courtier who is assigned to guard her, then helps her solve the murders.  In a way all good writing is suspense writing (What will happen next?), but writing a murder mystery really allowed me to increase the tension and danger.

Q:  Any interesting trivia you picked up in your research this time—things you didn’t know?

A:  One thing is that the title The War of the Roses did not come into existence until 1762.  It was a term coined in David Hume’s book History of England, so I reluctantly avoided using it in the novel.  The upheaval that put the Tudors on the throne was really a civil war.

Also, this is hardly trivia, but I had no idea that the status of few women who owned their own shops was so low at this time.  Varina only runs her chandlery because her husband died and left it to her.  Unless a father, brother or husband deeded a shop to a woman, she could not own it.  If she remarried, control of her business, finances and any minor children came under the new husband’s aegis.  Also, women like Varina were not admitted to the powerful merchant guilds of the city—hers would have been The Worshipful Company of Wax Chandlers.  Her shop could only be included through her brother-in-law, who worked for her, becoming a guild member.  (The one exception to this no-women-in-the-guilds rule was the broiders—embroiders—guild.)

Q:  So does Catherine of Aragon play a part in this book?

A:  She does indeed, and it is so interesting to see her as a pretty, appealing young woman instead of the sad figure we usually see in the Anne Boleyn-era novels.  I was interested to learn from the research that whether or not the weak, sometimes sickly Prince Arthur bedded her or not was a hot debate even at that time.  Of course, during Henry VIII’s later attempt to divorce her, that question was of key concern.

Q:  Part of this story takes place in Wales.  What was that like in the early Tudor era?

A:  It was still a place of legends, tribal chiefs and superstitions—and I took advantage of all that.  The area around Ludlow Castle is fens and bogs, deep forests.  I was even able to write a was-she-or-was-she not witch character.  The Welsh of that day believed their early hero Owen Glendower was coming back to throw the English out.  What a scary, great setting for a mystery, not that London of that day didn’t work well too.

Q:  I see the book has two different titles.  How did that come about?

A:  The book is titled MISTRESS OF MOURNING by my US publisher Penguin USA and THE QUEEN’S CONFIDANTE by my British publisher Random House UK.  The books have quite different covers too.  I think the UK releases of my historicals, which are making the bestseller lists there, are boosted by having the word queen in the title during this Jubilee Year and the royal wedding year previously.  I’m really looking forward to attending the Historical Novel Society Conference in London this autumn.  Any excuse to get to England for more research!  And it sounds like a great gathering of authors and readers.  Thanks for the interview and happy reading!

Learn more about Karen Harper's novels at her website.

MISTRESS OF MOURNING by Karen Harper

Lovers of historical mystery can find Karen Harper's MISTRESS OF MOURNING (New American Library) in bookstores today. From the press release:

"Varina Wescott, a young widow and candle maker, agrees to perform a clandestine service for Queen Elizabeth of York, wife of Henry VII in London in 1501. Elizabeth wants Varina and royal aid Nicolas Sutton to travel to the Welsh wilderness to investigate the death of the queen's eldest child, Prince Arthur. Soon the duo discovers one unsettling clue after another and they fear the conspiracy they're confronting is more treacherous than the queen imagined."

A heroine who carves wax figures of the dead and investigates the murders of three young princes...how could you resist?

Be sure to return on Thursday when Ms. Harper will discuss her novel and the research behind it.

Learn more about Karen Harper and her novels, both historical and contemporary, at her website.

The Queen's Pin

According to the June 13, 2012 edition of the French newspaper La République, excavations in the Henri IV courtyard of the château de Fontainebleau unearthed a hairpin possibly belonging to queen Catherine de Medici.


The Henri IV courtyard, also known as the Cour des Offices, was built between 1606 and 1609 to house domestic and administrative services. Historians thought the area unimportant before construction of the buildings that enclosed it. However, two meters below the surface, archeologists discovered a former latrine that has yielded all sorts of discarded objects: bones, coins, crockery, a small gold cross. The most significant find has been a hairpin that probably belonged to the queen. Vincent Droguet, curator of the château, explains that the pin features two interlaced C's, the arms of Catherine de Medici. "It's a stunning find," he says, "as jewels belonging to Catherine de Medici are very rare." (Photo at the original article.)

The article goes on to speculate how this precious object wound up in the latrine. A hidden crime? A careless mistake? The mysteries of the Quartier Henri VI have yet to be resolved.


Food for thought and possible plot points for historical novelists...

Excavations at Fontainebleau

Archeological excavations continue in the Henri IV courtyard of the Château de Fontainebleau. Two meters below the surface, archeologists found a hairpin belonging to Catherine de Médicis. Details of the find will be shared in Monday's edition of La République; in today's edition of the paper, you can examine photographs from the site.

Lucky Seven

I've been tagged by Janet B. Taylor and Candie Leigh for the "Lucky Seven" meme. Here are lines 7-15 from page 77 of my current manuscript:

Not knowing where to look first, Catherine wandered a bit, pausing to examine the sculpted marble faun on its half-pedestal, the majolica platters and enameled cups on the buffet. When she finally reached the canvas fixed to the wall between the two windows, she fingered the velvet drape as though reluctant to cut short the pleasure of anticipation. The gasp that escaped her as the drape fell away told Anne all she needed to know.

“Leda and the Swan. Michel-Ange. It’s true.” Catherine reached up to trace the curve of Leda’s back, pressed against the scarlet cushions by the weight of the swan in her lap. The girl's cheeks flamed at the undisguised portrayal of the pair’s copulation, but she did not look away.


Anyone else want to play? Leave a comment with a link. Let's see some lines from from your fabulous WIPs!

Lessons from Barcelona

No, this post is not about Lionel Messi beating Christiano Ronaldo in the race for the Pichichi (yay!) nor about Pep Guiardiola's resignation as head coach of the soccer club (boo!). It is about a book, an international bestseller an agent suggested I read as a "how-to" guide on creating successful historical fiction.

Set in fourteenth-century Barcelona, Ildefonso Falcones's CATHEDRAL OF THE SEA recounts the adventures of Arnau Estanyol, a fugitive serf who rises to become one of the city's richest and most influential citizens--and ultimately a target of the Inquisition. The story of Arnau's life parallels that of the elevation of Santa Maria del Mar, a magnificent cathedral built by the humble fishermen and dockworkers of Barcelona and to which, over the years, Arnau contributes his labor, his money, and his devotion. A six-hundred page novel of "friendship and revenge, plague and hope, love and war," CATHEDRAL OF THE SEA invites comparison with epic novels like Hugo's LES MISERABLES and Dumas's THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO. First published in Spain in 2006, Falcones's novel has since been published in 32 counties and has sold more than two million copies worldwide. It won the 2006 Euskadi de Plata award for the best novel in Spanish, the Qué Leer 2007 Prize for best book, and the Giovanni Boccaccio 2007 award for best foreign author.

Falcones obviously struck a chord with readers of all types. What lessons does CATHEDRAL OF THE SEA offer for writers of historical fiction hoping to achieve similar success? Here are some guidelines I gleaned from my reading of the novel:

1) Think big. The scope of CATHEDRAL is grand on every level. The time span covers some sixty years of Arnau's life and Barcelona history. Every level of Catalan society, from prostitutes and dockworkers to merchants, noblemen, bishops and kings contributes to the expansive cast of characters, all of whom find their point of intersection in Arnau. Historical topics range from pottery production to money-lending to architecture to canon and civil law. Passions--love, hate, revenge, forgiveness--rage with little restraint. The rising cathedral serves as a metaphor for the book itself, growing stone by stone, word by word, to encompass a vast expanse of space and light.

2) Celebrate the unusual. Fourteenth-century Barcelona is a relatively unfamiliar setting compared to Tudor England or Revolutionary France, yet it is familiar enough for readers not to feel lost. As Catalan history is but a footnote in most history books despite the region's historical significance, Falcones had a wealth of material to share with readers hungry for novelty. CATHEDRAL explores out-of-the-way corners of Barcelona, exposing hidden facets of Catalonian society: life in the walled Jewish quarter; the travails of the tight-knit community of indispensable bastaixos, or stevedores; the methods and psychology of the rural Inquisitor. Exploiting heretofore unexamined niches in political and social history hoists a novel above its more conventional competition.

Photo credit: ferran pestaña

3) Throw any and every misfortune you can think of at your characters. Arnau's loved ones face execution, die of plague, kill themselves, abandon him; he carries boulders on his back, withstands starvation, rots in a dungeon, loses an immense, hard-won fortune; misunderstandings separate him for years from those most dear to him. Writers are advised to "get the character up a tree and throw rocks at him"; after scaling a giant redwood, poor Arnau had a quarryful of boulders catapulted at his head. Sometimes I wanted to scream, "Really?" BUT I KEPT READING. I read on not only to see what Falcones would dream up next, but how Arnau would weather the ever-lengthening list of misfortunes. Was he physically, spiritually and emotionally strong enough to withstand the onslaught?

4) Create definite heros and villains, who receive their just desserts. Arnau remains ever the strong and virtuous character--patient, generous, loyal, industrious, guided by principle. The few dishonorable acts he commits cause him immense guilt. He seeks vengeance on his enemies, but only after they have treated him with inexcusable barbarity. The villains often border on cliché, but Falcones is careful to display enough of their motivation to preserve them from caricature. In the end, the good characters win, while the evil ones suffer horrible fates. As rewards are seldom distributed equitably in real life, it is immensely satisfying to the reader to see justice meted out in fiction.

5) Rape all the women. I'm only partially kidding here. All of the female leads in CATHEDRAL suffer sexual or physical abuse at the hands of men. Not wishing to psychoanalyze the author, I will extract this lesson from the evidence: Don't whitewash social conditions and practices of the past that offend our present sensibilities. Poverty, injustice, and oppression affected medieval women to an inordinate degree; physical abuse was an inescapable consequence of a woman finding herself in dire circumstances. Compounding this is the fact that some of what we now consider physical abuse was regarded as normal, even responsible behavior in times past, behavior women were conditioned to accept and even expect. To gloss over such realities because the modern reader wants "strong female characters" distorts the historical record and borders on fantasy.

6) Treat universal themes. Theme links the world of the past to that of the reader's present. The oppression of the disadvantaged by the rich and powerful occurs as often in the twenty-first century as it did in the fourteenth, albeit by different means. Likewise, forgiveness and generosity of spirit continue to heal individuals and societies now, as then. Despite the material differences of life in disparate eras, general truths persist; give readers thematic fingerholds to cling to as they navigate the unfamiliarity of the resurrected past.

7) Leave some issues unresolved. There is no need to explain everything or tie up each thread neatly. Most readers like to have questions left to wonder about after they have finished reading a book. Does it matter what Character X was doing during those years he was absent from the main action? Is Character Z's ultimate fate of importance once her interaction with the main character has concluded? Leaving spaces in the narrative for the reader to exercise her imagination allows her to become more involved and invested in the story.

8) Over-the-top works, as long as the characters are equal to the action. Grand actions require grand emotions, and vice versa. Extraordinary events will overwhelm petty characters; expansive characters will wither in restricted circumstances. Compatibility between character and action conditions the reader's "willing suspension of disbelief." If, from the start, a book's characters confront extraordinary events with singular courage and resourcefulness, the reader will be swept into the current and able to accept what might otherwise be deemed outrageous. Don't be afraid to go for the gusto, as long as you apply the broad strokes of your brush to the characters as well as the action.

A superbly crafted and intensely engaging novel, CATHEDRAL OF THE SEA deserves the acclaim and awards it has garnered. It is the type of novel I, as an author of historical fiction, ultimately aspire to write. But examining how Falcones fashioned his masterpiece and successfully incorporating its lessons into my own writing are two entirely different matters... If only writing a novel were as easy as analyzing one!

But I'll continue to strive towards my goal, for, as Arnau (and the footballers) have made abundantly clear, great achievement requires the greatest of effort.

Visca Barça!

This Old Château

The château de Chambord, France's iconic Renaissance castle, is slated to undergo a $5.3 million renovation, 500 years after François I commissioned its construction. In particular, the gardens will be rebuilt according to plans drawn by architect Jules Hardouin-Mansart for Louis XIV and discovered in the National Archives.

photo courtesy of Ra-smit

Bookmark Winner

The winner of the lovely pressed-flower bookmark offered by Elizabeth Loupas to celebrate the publication of THE FLOWER READER is

Rachel (rachelhwallen)

Congratulations, Rachel! I will email you for your postal mail address to forward to Elizabeth. Thank you to all who entered.

Please remember THE FLOWER READER when you're looking for a new book.

It's the perfect springtime read!

Interview: Sophie Perinot, THE SISTER QUEENS

Yesterday, I reviewed Sophie Perinot's debut novel, THE SISTER QUEENS. Today, Sophie answers some questions about her book.

*****

Q: Usually when novels feature more than one viewpoint character, the author writes from each perspective in the third person. You, however, chose to write in alternating first person points-of-view. What was the biggest technical challenge this posed? How did you strive to differentiate between Marguerite's and Eleanor's voices?

A: I was surprised when this book came to me in first person. I’ve always thought of myself as a third-person writer and I am certainly, generally, a third person reader. I was even more shocked that the story of my sister queens demanded to be written in the present tense.

I suppose, as a writer, I could take charge and make a conscious POV decision up front, but that is not my process. Rather, once I have the inspiration for a particular book, I begin researching—digesting material until my brain is swimming in it. As I am collecting and processing information I am waiting for what I can only call the “genesis moment,” when one or more of my characters begin to speak and act for themselves almost without my volition. The timing of this moment varies. When it happens I often “hear” or visualize a scene in its totality. In the case of The Sister Queens, Marguerite spoke to me first, offering me the lines that would become the opening of Chapter 7. Her voice was first-person present-tense.

Once I heard Marguerite’s voice, the biggest challenge became exactly what you’ve identified—making sure Eleanor developed a distinguishable voice. I was assisted in this by the fact that I had VERY strong impressions of each sister from my research and had concluded they had disparate personalities and disparate roles in their courts. Based on these impressions I prepared personal character profiles for the women as if I were an actress studying for a role. And that’s how I wrote them—by slipping on their skins in turn and becoming alternately Marguerite and Eleanor for the time necessary to write their personal sections of the book.

Q: As the two protagonists mature, they swap many traits: Marguerite, the docile and proper eldest daughter, becomes daring and deceitful in pursuit of her own happiness; Eleanor, the wilder child, learns to reign in her willfulness and place her husband's and her kingdom's good above her own. Which character do you feel achieved the best balance in the end? Did you find yourself identifying or sympathizing with one sister more than the other as you wrote?

A: I am interested that you find Marguerite “deceitful.” Yes she tells a lie (a large lie) and keeps something from others, but the word deceitful encompasses a negative judgment of her behavior that I don’t, personally, feel I am competent to pass.

I think sisters, real and fictitious, often look to each other’s behavior for ideas and life-strategies when their own approach to situations isn’t working. I know I do. When being Sophie doesn’t crack a difficult situation open I often ask myself what my sister, who is very different from me, would do or say. We learn by example from our sisters—sometimes consciously and sometimes unknowingly. I think Eleanor benefitted from adopting some of Marguerite’s more mild and accommodating attitudes, particularly during the mid-life crisis in her marriage. And I think Marguerite benefitted from a dose of Eleanor’s boldness. Being a good person (or a good queen) doesn’t mean never putting what we want first (though I think a lot of women have been conditioned to think it does).

As for personal preference or identification, you’ve touched upon a bit of a family controversy here. When I wrote The Sister Queens I really grew close to Marguerite. I started to identify with her and “own” her voice. Then my sister read the manuscript for the first time and said, “Oh my gosh, you as SO Eleanor.” I am SURE she is right but still, just once I’d like to get away with thinking of myself as the patient, forbearing type without getting called on it.

Joking aside, I was moved by Marguerite’s story—her struggle to find love with her husband, her struggle to be recognized as a person of strength and political intelligence—but my own marriage (like my outspoken personality) is much closer to Eleanor’s. I am not saying my husband is professionally inept (do you hear that, dear?) as Henry III clearly was, but he is a man who, like Henry, cares deeply for his wife and children and delights in their happiness. I also have always felt like an equal partner in my marriage and I think Eleanor, like her mother Beatrice of Savoy before her, was valued as a political player by her husband.

Q: Louis IX is revered as a saint in the Catholic Church, known not only for his piety and zeal but for his kindness and good humor. Were you at all apprehensive about tackling this exalted figure and exploring his private life?

A: Yes, because taking on a Saint and saying “Hey, look this guy was something of an idiot” can make one unpopular in certain quarters. In addition, I am not the sort to practice character assassination as a sport.

I didn’t come to this project intending to sully Saint Louis’s name or to rehabilitate Henry III of England. But as I moved along I became more and more frustrated by the common perceptions of each man, and I started to believe that how we are used to seeing them has as much to do with what matters in “H”istory as it does with who they were. Traditional political and military history celebrates men who are effective rulers. The personal aspects of their lives are either ignored or attached little value. But I came to this project with a background in women’s and social history. Those fields have a different view of what is important. I also came to this story as a woman—a very married woman. So, while I was working on the book I was persistently confronted by this question: it better to be married to a successful man who cannot spare time for you or to a good and loving man who is an epic failure?

Louis IX of France is still considered one of his country’s greatest monarchs. After his death his family waged a successful campaign to have him made a Saint. During that process only one person close to Louis declined to testify before the committee of prelates gathered at St. Denis – his queen, Marguerite of Provence. Striking. It seems to me that Marguerite had good reason for her refusal. Louis may have reformed French government and behaved with compassion and justice to his people, but he was a poor husband to her and an uninvolved father to their children. In Marguerite’s eyes Louis was NO saint. Because I saw with her eyes and wrote with her voice it became imperative for me to illuminate the imperfect man behind the image of the Saint.

In contrast to Louis IX, history does not remember Henry III of England kindly. Considered naïve and unsuited to leadership at best (and downright simple at worst) he is ranked one of the least among English Kings. There is no denying that Henry was not an able monarch, but he was a kind husband and good father. The historical record is replete with evidence of this. In thirty-six years no hint of scandal ever touched his marriage to Eleanor. Again and again he exhibited a deep caring for both his wife and their children. Henry became sick with grief nearly to the point of death when his youngest child, Katherine, who was physically handicapped and likely developmentally handicapped as well, died at age three. He continued to worry about his children’s wellbeing even once they reached adulthood, intervening repeatedly in his daughter the Queen of Scotland’s marriage. Eleanor saw all this—lived it. Seeing Henry through her eyes I realized that, at least from my point of view, he was the better man.

Q: Could you talk a bit about the role of women in the Crusades? Was it unusual for Marguerite and her women to accompany Louis and his army to the Holy Land?

A: I am NOT a crusade expert. I want to make that very clear because there are many of them—including academic historians with encyclopedic knowledge of the crusades, exquisite understanding of the issues underlying each, and very informed opinions on their military, social and political impacts. That said, and without trodding on more knowledgeable toes, it was not uncommon for women to accompany crusading armies, even though Pope Urban II banned them from fighting. Women of the lower classes and tradeswomen might accompany crusading armies to provide material support for the soldiers. Noblewomen travelled with their spouses to offer moral as well as physical support. One of the most famous examples of a Queen who took the cross is Eleanor of Aquitaine who accompanied her husband Louis VII of France in the 12th century. Of course papal ban or no Eleanor went into battle. And the great crusade poem The Chanson d’Antioche suggests she was not the only woman to do so:

When the husbands saw their wives gathered in the field, such was their love and pity for them that they changed color. Then they closed the visors of their helms and tested the edge of their swords which they brandished at arms length. And in their rancor they swore that before they would lose their wives they would make these treacherous pagans pay dearly.

Marguerite and her ladies, however, did no fighting while in the Holy Land, though Marguerite shouldered the responsibility for holding the city of Damietta after Louis was taken captive.

Q: How do you think history might have been different if Marguerite had married Henry of England and Eleanor Louis of France?

A: I think there would have been more significant historical changes had either Louis or Henry NOT married one of the sisters from Provence. Imagine, for example, if Louis, rather than his brother, had married Jeanne de Toulouse. Might we have seen the rivalry and animosity between the girls’ fathers – the Count of Provence and the Count of Toulouse – which often brought them to arms over the years in the Midi, played out on a much larger, international stage? Or imagine if Henry had succeeded in marrying Joan of Ponthieu (his “intended” before Eleanor) and the Savoyards (not only Eleanor’s uncles but a slew of clerks, knights and lesser nobles) had never come to England. While the English barons liked to label them a disruptive “foreign influence” (particularly rich since many of these same barons had connections on the continent and Simon de Montfort was French) and blame them for every ill, I tend to take the view that Henry’s rule would have been more of a failure not less without their political savvy and service.

Surely though, things would have been different had the brides been reversed. For one thing, I believe Eleanor would have just about killed Blanche of Castile . . . and possibly Louis as well. I doubt she could have changed either of them, but there would (at least while she was young) have been a state of open war in the French Court. As Queen of France, Eleanor would have been cut off from the Savoyard Uncles who proved to be her best political advisors and closest friends in England (and whose very presence and independence from the English crown gave her status). So, like her sister, she couldn’t have hoped for much impact on the policies or politics of France. She may even have had less impact less than Marguerite did, because Marguerite came into her own after returning from crusade and began to work around Louis a bit. Certainly Eleanor would NEVER have had the opportunity to act as regent in France as she did in England.

On a personal level, Eleanor would surely have been unhappy with Louis, and perhaps less firm in her convictions that there is a “special circle in hell for women who cuckold their husbands.” She also would have had less certain and less frequent access to her children which would have been devastating to Eleanor who was very much a mother-hen. I wonder, given my predicted state of acrimony between husband, wife, and mother-in-law, if the 1259 Treaty of Paris, between Louis IX and Henry III would ever have happened with Eleanor as Louis’s bride?

Marguerite would have fared better as Henry’s bride than she did as Louis’s. Despite her severely curtailed sphere of influence at the French court, she showed both political acumen and, while Louis was captive in the Holy Land, the ability to lead an shoulder responsibility. Imagine then how much more she would have been able to exercise her talents and exert her influence with Savoyard kin present as allies and given the ear of a husband willing to listen and consider her point of view. On a personal level, Marguerite would certainly have bloomed under the care of a loving husband and Henry—craving domesticity as he did—would surely have shown her respect, affection and kindness. One wonders, however, if the man who loved fiery Eleanor so very much would have been as drawn to her milder sister?

Q: What do you hope readers take away from their reading of your book?

What a reader ultimately takes away from my book will depend on what she brings to it. I think the very best books allow us to approach issues in our own lives from the comfortable distance of a fictional setting.

The Sister Queens is a sister story first and foremost. Yes, it is set in the 13th century and the atmosphere, politics and history are detailed and appropriate to that time period but the book focuses on that which is timeless—the way our sisters shape us whether by challenging us or by supporting us. So I suspect many readers will use the book as a catalyst for reflecting on the sister issue in their own lives. But there are a number of other themes/questions raised by the book—Is every long-term romantic relationship doomed to a period of stagnation? How do couples work past that? Does society place too much value on professional competence and too little on competence as a husband or father in judging a man?—that offer food for reflection.

The Sister Queens includes a reader’s guide with questions delving into themes sounded by the book. I don’t want to answer those questions (or any questions raised by my novel) for readers. I want to leave them free to draw their own conclusions informed by their life experiences.

Q: What has been the most exhilarating moment for you as an author? The most humbling? What did you learn about yourself during this odyssey?

A: The most exhilarating moment was, without doubt, launch day. I was able to lunch with a small group of members from the Chesapeake Bay Chapter of the Historical Novel Society including the marvelous Kate Quinn and Stephanie Dray. Afterwards we walked to the nearest Barnes & Noble. The minute I crossed the threshold I spotted The Sister Queens on the “New Releases” table. Pure bliss. Needless to say, many pictures were taken.

The most humbling moment came about a week later. I took my youngest child to a Barnes & Noble near our home so that he could see my book on the table. He took one look, shrugged (really) and said something along the lines of, “That’s nice but the hardback books at the front are displayed standing up.” Wow. Yeah, that pretty much deflated them moment.

As for what I’ve learned . . . some years ago while writing my very first manuscript a portraitist friend asked me, “What are you going to do if this book doesn’t sell?” I told him “Write another, and another, until one does sell or until I get tired of writing.” I learned during the odyssey that is pursuit of publication that I really have the perseverance and optimism to live up to those words. As you know Julianne, the novel that hooked my wonderful agent didn’t sell. That was a scary moment. But my agent had faith in me and said, “Write me another one.” When I successfully finished The Sister Queens on deadline, I didn’t know if it would sell either but I knew I could DO THIS—I could write as a business proposition and even in the face of initial failure.

*****

Thank you, Sophie, for taking the time out of your busy writing schedule to answer these questions. I hope this interview has given readers a feel for the amount of research and careful deliberation that went into the crafting of THE SISTER QUEENS.

Please visit Sophie's website to learn more about her novel and her path to publication. Enjoy the book!

Review: THE SISTER QUEENS by Sophie Perinot

"Like most sisters, Marguerite and Eleanor were rivals.

They were also queens.

Raised at the court of their father, Raymond Berenger, Count of Provence,

Marguerite and Eleanor are separated by royal marriages

--but never truly parted."

*****

Power down your cell phone, turn off your computer, disconnect your landline. Now imagine that you want to share your latest joy or current frustration with someone dear...say, a sister who lives hundreds of miles away. What to do? Write a letter, of course. But now imagine the roads are bad, conveyances slow, your sister’s whereabouts uncertain. It will take weeks, perhaps months or even a year for your letter to arrive. By then, your news will be old, your feelings changed. Your sister, when and if she receives the letter, will have questions to ask, advice to offer, secrets of her own to share. But it will take just as long, if not longer, for her response to arrive. In the meantime, your life continues to unfold in ways your sister will never--can never--comprehend. Do you even bother to pick up that pen?

Marguerite and Eleanor of Provence, the protagonists of Sophie Perinot’s debut novel, THE SISTER QUEENS (NAL, March 2012), do reach for their quills, again and again and again. Despite distance, fallible couriers, scheming barons and marauding Saracens, the two sisters write to each other regularly, from the time they are separated by Marguerite’s marriage to King Louis IX of France in 1234 until they are reunited on a brief state visit between King Louis and Henry III of England, Eleanor’s husband, in 1255. Writing is the only way the sisters have of maintaining the bond of love they’ve shared since childhood, a bond so strong that each is as the other’s “own heart” (page 37).

Perinot deftly structures each chapter of her tightly written debut around an excerpt from one of the sister’s fictional letters to the other. As the chapters alternate in the first-person voice of each queen, the prefatory excerpt establishes which queen is speaking as well as the date and place from which she is writing. Since the chapter is recounted from that particular queen’s perspective, the reader becomes intimately familiar with the factual and emotional truth of her situation and the events in which she is involved. The interest in the letters, then, becomes what the letter-writer chooses to divulge to her sister and the manner in which she relates it. Armed with knowledge the recipient doesn’t have, the reader can follow in the letters the evolution of the sisters’ relationship as well as each sister’s personal growth.

For growth and change there is. Each queen faces distinct personal and political challenges, convincingly drawn. Marguerite, the reserved, obedient, respectable elder sister finds herself alone in France, married to a saintly but emotionally distant man who is ruled by his jealous mother and absorbed by the affairs of his kingdom and the Christians of the Holy Land. Eleanor, the more outspoken, willful and impetuous sister, arrives in England with a bevy of Savoyard relatives and quickly becomes indispensable to her adoring, domestic but diplomatically-less-than-adept husband. Each woman must learn what it means to be both queen and wife, how best to balance family and politics, and, most importantly, what she is willing to sacrifice in pursuit of personal happiness.

THE SISTER QUEENS is an admirable debut, well-written and richly imagined, peopled with unique characters and simmering with conflict. Despite its length, the story never bogs down with unnecessary detail; the politics of thirteenth-century France and England are sketched with just enough detail to support the dramatic action. The focus remains on the sisters’ relationship throughout, assuring thematic as well as structural cohesion. Ms. Perinot handles the alternating viewpoints with skill and ingenuity (pay close attention to handling of point-of-view in Chapter 40, where form and function unite for subtle but delightful effect). Readers will find themselves drawn to one of the sisters more than the other (I’m an Eleanor fan, myself), but that is one of the attractions of the book. Congratulations to the author for finding a little-explored moment in history and bringing it to life for modern readers with verve, demonstrating how the bonds of sisterhood transcend not only distance, but time.

[A word of warning to those who, like me, prefer “fade-to-black” love scenes: I'd describe sexual encounters in THE SISTER QUEENS as "all lights on."]

*****

You can learn more about Sophie Perinot and her work at her website and blog. Sophie is also a regular contributor to the group blog From the Write Angle.

Come back tomorrow for my interview with Sophie about THE SISTER QUEENS!

History or Fiction? Guest Post by Elizabeth Loupas

When choosing historical fiction, do you migrate towards books whose protagonists were actual historical personages, or do you prefer fictional characters placed in a historical setting? Author Elizabeth Loupas, whose second novel, THE FLOWER READER, goes on sale today, has written both types. The protagonist of Elizabeth's first novel, THE SECOND DUCHESS (NAL 2011), was Barbara of Austria, the true-life second wife of Alfonso II d'Este, the duke of Ferrara. THE FLOWER READER brings to life Rinette Leslie, a fictional sixteenth-century Scottish noblewoman who is able to foresee the future by reading flowers. In today's guest post, Elizabeth discusses her own preferences in the historical versus fictional protagonist debate.

___________________________________________________

Historical? Or Fiction? Or both?

by Elizabeth Loupas

Some readers of historical fiction are suspicious of fictional characters introduced into historical settings. Is the fictional character created as a device to tell the story of a famous historical personage? Will she (or he) spend every scene listening at doors and peeping through peepholes? (We know all those Renaissance palaces were riddled with peepholes and secret passages.) Will the author resort to convoluted machinations to justify the fictional character’s presence whenever something important happens to the historical personage? Why not simply let the historical personage tell her (or his) own story?

A good question. And what I like to call “biographical fiction” can be wonderful and satisfying. Margaret George’s novels of historical women are good examples (Mary Queen of Scotland and the Isles, The Memoirs of Cleopatra, Mary Called Magdalene, Elizabeth I), as is Susan Kay’s unforgettable Legacy and debut author Sophie Perinot’s The Sister Queens, to mention only a tiny few. A meticulously researched and carefully imagined historical “biography” can be both enriching and entertaining.

But sometimes I just want a book with more story. I want plot and drama and excitement and adventure and romance. The real lives of well-known historical personages don’t always include these elements, and trying to add them in by fictionalizing love affairs, conspiracies and betrayals, secret lives as detectives, or magical vampire or zombie powers (no, I’m not kidding, although of course you already know that), aren’t usually very satisfying. Building a story around a fictional character who lives in the same world as a historical personage offers a blank canvas, and for me, anyway, gives much more scope for storytelling.

I think the trick, if one is going to use a fictional protagonist, is to make the fictional character truly the center of the story, with his or her own desires and needs, passions and hurts and joys and sorrows. The historical personages must be supporting characters—and you know, that gives the writer a chance to really look at a historical personage in a fresh, slightly different way. A not-such-a-big-deal way. Because history looks back and sometimes makes individuals more dramatically central than they very well may have been in their own time.

I love all kinds of historical fiction, both with and without fictional protagonists. It’s the history that makes it magical—the sense-drenched presence of another time and place. I love to find new ways to look at real personages from history, to read about them clothed in flesh and blood and flaws and foibles and not as just as names in history books. But I also love the idea that there may be people—call them fictional characters if you will—we’ve never met and stories we’ve never heard before, living their lives around the edges of known history.

The Flower Reader makes its fictional protagonist Rinette Leslie central to her own story, and takes a glancing look at Mary Stuart in the process. For more information, visit Elizabeth Loupas’s website at www.elizabethloupas.com.

__________________________________________________

I reviewed THE FLOWER READER here a few weeks ago. No need for flowers for me to predict that you'll be swept up in Elizabeth's imaginative yet historically-grounded story!

To celebrate the publication of THE FLOWER READER, Elizabeth has generously offered to supply a handmade bookmark to one lucky reader. The custom-made bookmark is signed and numbered by flower artist Lesley Hegewald and made of real pressed flowers and leaves. Elizabeth will include a note identifying the flowers used and explaining their meaning in Rinette's lush world of floromancy.

If you are interested in entering the drawing, please comment on this post with your email address. Entries may be posted until 11 pm PST on Sunday, April 14, 2012. Winner's name, chosen at random, will be posted on Monday, April 15. Good luck, and best wishes to Elizabeth on her launch day.

Willa Cather: Never Compromise

From Willa Cather, "On the Art of Fiction" (1920):

"A good workman can't be a cheap workman; he can't be stingy about wasting material, and he cannot compromise. Writing ought either to be the manufacture of stories for which there is a market demand--a business as safe and commendable as making soap or breakfast foods--or it should be an art, which is always a search for something for which there is no market demand, something new and untried, where the values are intrinsic and have nothing to do with standardized values."

Anyone up for a good discussion? Are Cather's words true in 2012, when market demand so heavily dictates what gets published? How does her distinction apply to a genre like historical fiction? Comment away! (Thanks to WritingSense for bringing this passage to my attention.)