Is It Plaidy... or the Narrator?

Saturday, February 28, 2009
To Emote or Not To Emote...

Can you destroy a good novel with a narration that is over the top... or in one case, under the top?

I am reading Michael Curtis Ford's The Ten Thousand. Well, I am listening to it. It is debatable whether listening to books from the National LIbrary Service for the Blind is actually reading. If you ask Braille militants, any blind person who cannot read Braille is illiterate. I will only concede the point if the same person never learned to read print. I was reading at five, thank you, so I don't agree that losing significant sight but not learning Braille makes me suddenly illiterate.

But one point that comes up in any audio interpretation of literature is whether the narrator should turn the reading into a performance. I don't think anyone suggests that readers do so in a monotone, but how much is enough and not too much? I can't imagine listening to Edward Rutherfurd's Dublin Saga without the magnificent narrator and his facvility with all the accents. The reader for the Ford book, however, is so dour that I find myself wondering if the character telling the story, Theo, is as dour, and if I should interpret the story the same.

I am not crazy about Jean Plaidy, but reading her novel of Edward II I can't decide if it is really as bad as it sounds or if the narrator in this one is coloring it even worse? I expect it is both Plaidy and the narrator that have conspired to trivialize and camp up the story of Edward and his "Parrot". I got to the point where Piers Gaveston is about to be murdered, and I am not so sure I want to hear that sad event done in the narrator's flippant Bette Davis ren dition.

More and more of the books I "read" are read to me by a tolerable computer voice. It can be downright funny at times, how the speech synthesizer handles pronunciation. The kingdom in my own novel, "Críslicland" comes out as "C. R. Slickland"! Perhaps the straight un-emoted reading is what is best. I honestly don't know.

Adelsverein the Gathering - Book One of The Adelsverein Trilogy, by Celia Hayes

Adelsverein the Gathering
By Celia Hayes

Book One of The Adelsverein Trilogy

This is as well-crafted a historical novel as I have read, reminiscent of so many of the American settler novels beloved by readers. It has the satisfying elements of family, of love born from people who could never have met in a world where people stayed in one place, the challenges of making human habitation out of wilderness, of the clash of the native peoples and the immigrants, and of loss and renewal as the fruit of collective hope.

This is the first novel of the saga following "Vati" Steinmetz, his children and their families as part of a historic venture called the Adlesverein to bring German settlers to settle a part of Texas. Faced with political turmoil and ever-decreasing economic opportunities, emigrants from all over Europe headed for less populated parts of the world in the 19th century. The voyage could be deadly, the disappointments on arrival heart-breaking, but the perseverance and hope shown by these intrepid people provides us, their descendants, with a stron g sense of a not unmixed heritage.

At the center of this story are Magda, Vati's stalwart stepdaughter, and Carl, a third generation German-Texan with a tragic past. Their stories run parallel for much of the novel, following Carl's troubled youth with a heartless father and the death of his beloved brother in a massacre by Santana's Mexican army, while Magda and her family face the miseries of an 1840s sea voyage, disease and deprivation in the New World, and hardships capped with promise as they reach their journey's end. Teh two cross paths when Carl and his soldier companions save Magda's niece from drowning in a river. They diverge again, until Carl comes to the new Herman settlement with a party seeking to create a peace with Comanche tribes. Carl makes his intentions to ask Magda to marry him known, but she is unsure, having another suitor she cares for as well. Meantime, other characters share her joy and loss in the New World, creating strong foundations, both figuratively and literally, out of little more than their own stout determination.

Besides practical Magda and strong, silent Carl, you have here a cast of characters distinct and well drawn. Vati Steinmetz is the dreamer, the philosopher and the loving pater familas. His other daughter, Liesl, is fragile but both adores and utterly trusts her husband, the irrepressibly optimistic Hansi Richter. Among the children, there is the Goofus and Gallant Freddy and Johann, maternal Hannah, and bright as a spring flower Rosalie, the orphan the family brings into their hearts and home when they find her crying by the bodies of her dead parents. Other characters such as the kindly Altmullers, the real-life hero Jack Hayes, and the rival for Magda's affection, Charlie Nimitz, another historical figure, are each as well drawn and memorable as the central characters.

As it happens, I read The Harvesting, the third book of this trilogy first, so knowing what happens to all these people learnt pathos to my own reading of The Gathering.. Hayes' peppering both novels with Magda's reminiscences in a distant future would offer any reader the same pause. It is this aspect of Hayes' storytelling that jarred for me in both books. She assures me she has a good reason for the decision to include these vignettes from 1918, but as the purpose is not evident in either individual volume, I personally don't think they fit. On the other hand, knowing how many of the characters developed after the end of The Gathering gave me added appreciation of the individuals and their growth.

One thing I appreciate about Hayes' Adelsverein novels is her careful treatment of how she depicts the Indians encountered. We are in a time when any negative portrayals of Indians is met with disapproval. Hayes is even-handed, neither vilifying nor idolizing Indian culture. That is refreshing and, of course, more historically sound.

Other than the future vignettes I found this novel to be darn near perfect. completely satisfying, moving, and memorable. As for going on to read the second in the trilogy, knowing what I do I may have to put that off for some time to let my heart's defenses prepare.

This is the novel we read for the online book discussion group, Let's Read Historical Novels, for our March 3 meeting at AccessibleWorld.org. You are all invited to join us to discuss or hear what we all thought and to talk to the author, Celia Hayes

"An Involuntary King" Book Trailer!

Find the book at www.shield-wall.com.

Death of the Red King, by Pamela Bennetts

Death of the Red King
By Pamela Bennetts

This story of the killing of King William II, the red-haired son of William the Conqueror, while hunting in the new Forest in 1100 is way out of print. It was published in 1976m and I could not find a single image of the book cover. That's why I put up the artistic depiction of Rufus's death by arrow instead.

I had read another novel concerning this event, which is one of those unsolved historical mysteries that has many of the same elements, historical or litereary, as this one. That book, King of the Wood by Valerie Anand, posited the same "King of the Dying Year" as the reason for Rufus's killing, though Anand's book is much the superior. Death of the Red King is more or a less a mystery novel, providing lots of suspects, so if you just like to read mysteries, this one will do. If you want complex and mature human relationships and better writing, go with Anand.

Death of the Red Ling begins with servants whispering in corners about "something" that is in the air, about to happen, as the king and his friends gather in Winchester in July to set out for a hunting holiday in the New Forest. The De Clare brothers are there, as is Walter Tyrrell, Rufus's brother henry, Rufus's friend Fitzhayman, and a couple of Norman knights, one of which, Rainer, is the hero of his novel. In strides a young woman Eloise, the heroine, who demands the king allow her to choose her own husband. Rufus, both annoyed and amused, takes the suggestion that Eloise be given to Rainer. In the meantime, Rufus shows more interest in Eloise's young page boy. When the boy goes missing, Eloise assumes Rufus has made away with him for carnal purposes, and she follows the king and his party into the forest. She is not the only one interested in Rufus's visit, though, as an old woman who wants revenge, a Norman knight working for the older brother, Robert Curthose, and a scary witch lady named Papia all seem concerned with the stories of the earth needing a human sacrifice.

I will admit some suspenseful tension once everyone is in the forest. Teh book has some major flaws, however. The entire opening is a tedious exposition about the past few years of William's reign by three men who are supposedly rushing about to get the palace ready for the king's arrival. I guess they got it all done, as he seems happy when he does arrive. Later Bennetts stops the flow of the mystery to wax eloquent about the scenery between Winchester and the new Forest. The transformation of Eloise from confirmed bachelorette to hanging all over Rainer is sketchy at best. Finally, though the rest of the suspects are neatly disposed of, literarily I mean, by the end, perhaps the most intriguing of therm, old Lady Emma, just drops from sight.

King of the Wood covers much more of the story, the hujnting accident but also more about Rufus's life. Both address his being romantically linked to men, both show how antagonistic to and abusive of the Church he was, both tell of his good soldiering, both talk about the Old Religion, and the circumstances of his death are faithful to the accepted stories, but King of the Wood is a more involved, thoughtful, sensitive and effecting story, with the main character being pressed into a sexual relationship with the king, then having to make his way in the world known as a catamite. I have already forgotten the surnames of the main characters of Death of the Red King, but I expect to carry many of the characters of Anand's novel around with me for a long time.

Finn MacCool, by Morgan Llywelyn

Finn MacCool
By Morgan Llywelyn

Celtic World of Morgan Llywelyn

This is one of those books you start out reading, thinking, "Well it sounds like a fun read." Then you read on and discover such tenderness, such human understanding in the author's treatment of a legend that you realize you are reading something of immense value.

Finn MacCool is a legendary Irish hero out of the early Dark Ages. You can read the original legends or what remains of them in the Fionn mac Cumhaill entry in Wikipedia. What Llywelyn has done with those tales is clever even just on the surface of it. She has created a plausible protagonist who fills in gaps in his own life with these magical interpretations, then finds that the tales inspire other men to want to follow him and his idealistic goals, and finally begins to be more real to Finn than reality. Whether the magic is in fact not real is what the reader is left pondering in the final exquisite scene in the novel.

The novel's Finn MacCool was born as a result of rape, abandoned to die by his mother in a bog, and raised by two old women who could do little more than feed and clothe him. He raises himself, or one could say, he let's the natural world raise him. The novel starts with his having the lead of a small band of fighters. The stories he tells about his magical childhood are clearly meant to entertain but have as well the effect of letting Finn create a personal mythos, fills in the life he did not but wants to have had. He rises to the top role in the High King's armies, creating a sort of chivalric ideal and prestige for what once was seen as glorified but useful bandits. He makes of himself the model of honor and courage he wants the warriors to emulate. He believes it all -- that is what you most need to know about Finn.

The central story of his life is his great love for his wife Sadbh, his soul mate in every sense, but who is kidnapped away from him after a very short time. Finn is tortured by her disappearance, and here we discover the hole in the man's soul that touches every thing he does and feels. He has, as they say in modern parlance, abondonment issues. Big time. This is where I find so much humanity in Llywelyn's depiction of the hero. He is another Nicholas de Fleury in that his every move is invariably interpreted by someone as having malicious intent. This injustice fuels Finn's sense of being abandoned by all who ever cared for or meant anything to him. It was painful to read about his persistent efforts to be accepted and understood, fading then to a sense of desolate inevitability. I fully expected a tragic end, but the novel's conclusion was actually sweet and a relief.

Morgan Llywelyn's Finn MacCool is a deeply human character, so complex yet so simple and direct. His mantra is that he never lies, and you soon learn that he manages this by believing ever story he makes up. Never for evil, but always as a way to come to understand himself and why he is who he is. I intentionally wrote my own king so flawed yet so earnest, like Finn, and I recognize the kinship between the two. Gratifying, indeed.

This book brought up a question for me I will write about in my blog Nan Hawthorne's Booking the Middle Ages about the inadequacies of translation. In particular I wonder if the word apologize in early Irish Gaelic had nuances of shame our own word does not seem to have. Finn apologizes to the High King in a scene that just did not feel as poignant as it seems it should have. I can't complain about any book that informs my own writing!

Have Yourself an Anglo Saxon Sennight!!!

All this week you can visit with his majesty and me at Historical Novel Review!

Read a review, an interview, and excerpts from An Involuntary King: A Tale of Anglo Saxon England!

Once tempted, the good news is that there are autographed and discounted copies of the novel on Amazon.com!

Azincourt, by Bernard Cornwell

Azincourt
By Bernard Cornwell

Yes, Z. I bought the book from Amazon.co.uk and was disconcerted by the fact that the U.S. release has the title Agincourt. Which is it, that Americans are that obtuse or someone somewhere thinks we are?

Azincourt is the story of archer Nicholas Hook who at the beginning of the book is part of an English mercenary troop in the French town of Soissons. Through the treachery of an English commander the town is overrun by the French to disastrous results, including the massacre of thousands including nuns and the torture and murder of English archers. Nick has formed an adherence to the town's patron saints, Sts. Crispin and Crispinian, and the two of them take an interest in Nick and begin to advise him within his own head. One of the first things they help him do is save a young nun named Melisande from rape. The couple become devoted to each other.

Nick has enemies, a priest named Sir Martin and two brothers named Peril. They and Sieur de l'Enferel, the lord who commanded the disfigurement and killing of the archers in Soissons and who happens to be Melisande's Dad, act as foils throughout the campaign led by Henry V in France. They turn up and beleaguer Nick and Melisande during the siege of Harfleur and thereafter as the English take an enforced detour on the way back to Calais and during the legendary Battle of Agincourt.

Two things really stand out in this novel. One is typical Cornwell, the detailed and unforgiving depiction of battle, and the decidedly non-Cornwell heroine, Melisande. I have heard Cornwell's heroines described as "trophy wives", and whether or not I agree, Melisande is definitely an exception. She is smart, spunky, courageous, and stalwart. I also enjoyed the often unflattering depiction of Henry, as he executes Lollards and makes bad battle decisions but also sincerely seeks the thoughts of his men and is capable of remorse. The scene, based on account of the time, of Henry standing over his wounded brother Humphrey and keeping him from capture is stirring.

This novel does not pack quite the dramatic punch that many of Cornwell's epics do but it grows on you. The characters build throughout the story, ending with integrity and decency.

To Ruin a Queen, by Fiona Buckley - An Ursula Blanchard Mystery

To Ruin a Queen
By Fiona Buckley
An Ursula Blanchard Mystery in Queen Elizabeth I's Court

Yes, another Ursula Blanchard. It turned out that the reason I had gotten no further books from the Library for the Blind is that I am set to "request only" and was currently out of pending requests! So I was inspired to catch up on checking which novels on medieval-novels.com are available from the National Library Service, so running out did me a good turn. I have started to go through the site book by book and noting which can be found in the NLS catalog.

Back to Ursula. The novel opens with Ursula in child bed, in France with her husbvand Matthew (Matthieu?). She nearly dies and the child is born dead. Postpartum depression sets in, and she and her husband are quarreling. Word comes from England that Ursula's daughter Meg is missing, so she rushes off across the Channel to find out what has happened. It is, of course, a ploy by Elizabeth and Cecil to lure her back to England. Meg is safe, but a Lady Thomasina needs help stopping her son from committing political and mortal suicide. The depression lifts while Ursula investigates the lady's son, Lord Mortimer, is up to. It seems he has some letters that appear to be love letters between Elizabeth's mother and her minstrel, Mark Smeetin, and the dates on them put Elizabeth's parentage in doubt. In the meantime Mortimer's young ward is murdered and Ursula and her mansercvant Brockley are accused and thrown into the dungeon. Various hijinks ensue.

Again, we have Ursula's fixation on fashion. The woman could not say the common word for a color if her life depended on it... it's always cerise, cream, fawn, tawny. The action is going along nicvely and up comes the digression to what color slippers Lady Thomasina is wearing and with what design and color they are embroidered.

One thing I have noticed with these mystery novels is that no clue is wasted. Bear that in mind while you read. If s chicken squawks in a scene, you can count on it, that chicken or its squawk will come up again. Downright Chekovian. For instance, in this novel, a minor character has his thumb lacerated by a misbehaving goshawk.. and never fear, that laceration comes up as an essential clue. It might be as fun to read these novels with a pad and pen handy.

I must confess that however annoyed I get with the Vogue rendering of the Renaissance, I do read these mysteries through. I do want to find out what happens. And this one has a satisfying bit of the paranormal in it, a coincidence was I am just now researching my own paranormal mystery series.

I really could have done without the "reeking hag" Gladys though. It was very distracting having read a couple of the later in this series and having Gladys not appear in one, but being central to the one after it. Since she proves to be a handicap for Ursula and her cohorts, I finish To Ruin a Queen wondering 2what deep freeze Ursula put Gladys in for the one book without her.