Mary, Mary Quite Contrary

As many of you may have noticed, I'm rather fond of historical fiction.  It's not possible to talk about historical fiction without mentioning Philippa Gregory, author of the absorbing 'The Other Queen', which I have just finished.

'The Other Queen' tells the story of the early years of Mary Queen of Scots' imprisonment.  I say imprisonment, in reality it's more like house arrest for her and a financial trap for her 'jailers', the Earl and Countess of Shrewsbury, better known as George Talbot and the legendary Bess of Hardwick.  The book explores the destructive force of a ruler in exile, the damage caused by hearts and minds in conflict and the curse in disguise of a royal houseguest.  From the moment Queen Mary enters the lives of Bess and George, she changes them forever and in ways naively unanticipated by the key players.

Regular readers of this blog will know that I read Ms Gregory's 'The Virgin's Lover' about a year ago and was a bit disappointed by it.  'Historical fiction' is actually quite a broad category and, although I love books which bring historical figures to life and capture the politics and sense of place of an age, I can't bear the romances, which do us all a disservice by eroticizing history rather than helping our understanding of it.  Although there is an element of romance to 'The Other Queen', it is not the whole driving force behind the story, so I found it  more enjoyable.

'The Other Queen' by
Philippa Gregory
(Harper Collins, 2009)

'The Other Queen' has three narrators, Mary, Bess and George, and their voices and stories are brilliantly woven together by the author to give us insight into the internal and external conflicts and contradictions they're each experiencing.  Like a portent, the arrival of Queen Mary seems a catalyst for a series of events that may have been brewing for a long time, such as the Northern Uprising, George's honour being tested and Queen Elizabeth's great spymaster William Cecil tightening his grip on the country's upper classes.

My only (very small) criticism of this book is that there are a few points when the writing seems to slip into a modern style.  For example, at one point George says that he's "fighting for his life here." which jarred with me as a reader and broke the spell.  I'm no expert of Tudor English, but it was hard not to hear George suddenly become a modern American when reading that line.

Overall, I enjoyed this book.  It's three narrators make the story dynamic and tense, while trying to keep up with who is lying to who about what is challenging.  A great introduction to a number of controversial characters that I hope to read more about in future (and probably will due to the fantastic bibliography at the end of the book!).

Now, what next?

Thin End of the Wedge

I've just finished another book!  That's three in one month and it's only March!  Yippee!

The latest book was 'The Real Me is Thin' by Arabella Weir.  I was aware of the comedy actress author in a I'm-sure-I've-seen-her-in-a-few-things sort of a way and hoped that this book would be a down-to-earth yet uplifting take on body image.  Unfortunately, it wasn't what I'd hoped for, although I feel that there is a great book in here trying to get out.

'The Real Me is Thin' is an autobiographical account of the author's difficult relationship with food and eating and where her attitudes came from.  Full of self-analysis, painful sounding memories and reflection, the book explores one woman's complex attitude to food, eating and body image, with a bit of feminism thrown in for good measure.

This could've been a fantastic book, but it feels a bit half-baked, if you'll pardon the pun.  If it had been written in conjunction with a therapist or psychologist, perhaps someone like Pamela Stephenson Connolly, and the author's experiences used as a case study, I think it would've had the potential to help both the author and anyone reading it who has similar complex feelings about food.  It sounds like Ms Weir has been through some absolutely horrific experiences, but the book offers no resolution, no hope, and I feel it's slightly depressing and a bit of a missed opportunity as a result.  I turned the last page and was left feeling pity and regret that although the author has fully reflected on the subject, she doesn't appear to be ready for the 'next step' of trying to deal with her issues.  It's one thing to say it's OK to be a normal size, but it's another to say it's OK to eat whole packets of biscuits in one sitting and admit to feeling bitter that you don't have a different attitude to eating.

If the book had been taken in this direction, been more a journey from biography, analysis and reflection to receiving professional help, looking to the future and hopefully attempting to change bad habits, it would have had a much better structure.  As it is, it's a bit hit and miss, as though the author sat down when she had a few spare minutes and just mused on paper/screen about the subject matter.  This gives it a nice, accessibly chatty style, but does lead to some less comprehensible sentences.  After the initial biographical elements are covered, the book seems to meander about a bit, I think because there is no target, no resolution.  There is no clear, overall, positive message, perhaps suggesting that this book was written too soon in the author's personal journey.

On the plus side, it's great to hear someone in the public eye speaking out about the body image issue.  The size and shape of the bodies we see in the media is ridiculously limited and we have to remember that these people are a minority and a minority with a particular lifestyle which means they can work to look like that.  The rest of us are a bit busy with jobs, kids and lives.

On the whole, I applaud the motivation behind this 'The Real Me is Thin', but would love to see it re-written with some input from a dietary or psychological professional to ground the personal experiences in a broader context.  This would hopefully help put things in perspective for readers and naturally lead to pointers on how to change your habits or, if necessary, to seek help.  As this book makes very clear, we are not alone and shouldn't be embarrassed by any unusual attitudes we've been brought up with.  Equally, though, we shouldn't just accept them if there is a better, healthier way.

The Audacity of Hope

I've just finished reading Walter Tevis' science fiction classic 'The Man Who Fell to Earth'.  It wasn't quite what I expected; in fact it was much, much better.

'The Man Who Fell to Earth' by Walter Tevis
(Penguin Modern Classics, 2009)

Thomas J. Newton is a man like no other on Earth.  Too tall, too pale and too fragile, onlookers soon notice something strange about the purposeful multi-millionaire, although thought of his wealth often silences their worries.  Appearing from nowhere with technological schematics representing a great, and unexpected, leap forward for mankind, Newton comes to the attention of inquisitive academic Nathan Bryce.  After much effort, Bryce begins working for Newton's organisation, contributing to a huge and complex building project the like of which the world has never seen. Although sated for a time, Bryce becomes more and more suspicious of his new employer and determines to discover his secret.  Unfortunately, he's not the only one interested in Newton and his motives.

I really enjoy this sort of science fiction.  Anyone who dismisses it as 'nerdy', 'geeky' or 'cult' is missing out on some wonderful explorations of society and what it means to be human.  Unlike with the big hitters such as 'The Handmaid's Tale' or 'Brave New World', I didn't know much about the story before I started reading it.  I thought it was a straight forward Earth invasion tale, so I was delighted to find it is so much more.  It's hard to believe it's not better known as a book as well as a film, but then again perhaps I've just led a bit of a sheltered life!

The key characters of Newton and Bryce are beautifully and sympathetically portrayed, easy to relate to and realistically believable (not something that goes hand-in-hand with the stereotype of science fiction!).  It's hard not to be drawn in by Newton and really feel for him as he begins to doubt himself, his mission and even his own people.  In fact, I think his is a story that anyone who has suffered from moments of self doubt will really relate to.

The themes of distance, alienation and hope are meticulously explored through this story and yet the only parts I found a bit hard going were the paragraphs which described scientific methods.  You'd think I could cope with that sort of thing, especially as it must've been quite simple technology, but I did feel at times that I needed a sort of idiot's guide so I could get my head around a few basic principles!  It's a long time since I did my GCSEs and, let's face it, technology has changed an awful lot since 1963!  Although not under alien influence, as far as I know..!

Overall, 'The Man Who Fell to Earth' is a fascinating novel about humanity which deserves a wider readership and a place on the school syllabus.

I must be having a good week because I'm also 80% of the way through another book, so hope to be back blogging for you again soon!