Russka: A Novel of Russia, by Edward Rutherfurd

Russka: A Novel of Russia
By Edward Rutherfurd

If it seems like a long time since a new book appeared on That's All She Read, it's true. It feels like it to me too. I assume that the moment you saw the name of the novel I just finished, you figured out why. Russka is one of Edward Rutherfurd's hugely long books covering a select group of families through the history of a place. This one starts in 180 AD and ends in 1990. I have read them all now, Sarum, London, The Forest, The Princes of Ireland and The Rebels of Ireland. I had to read this one too, so I took advantage of my role as chooser of books for a book discussion group to assign this one for our August meeting.

The novel follows families of divers backgrounds through many eras. It starts with the arrival of raiders from the Steppes in the second century. The Mongols follow, then the story follows into the eras of Ivan the Terrible, Peter the Great, Catherine the Great, the log lead up to revolution, to the rise of the Soviet Union and to Stalinism, and finally a short visit to post-Soviet Russia and the return for a visit of a Russian-American. (Be sure when you read the book to pay attention to the child's reveries in the first couple of pages as they come back as an impression quite satisfyingly at the very end.) The eras follow movement from an old torn near Kiev in the Ukriane called Russka to a new one nearer Moscow in the north. This is such a complex book that I can't do much more than mention a few of the individual plots. A Cossack and his friend who is nicknamed The Ox go their separate ways when the latter's illusions of fate are shattered, only to come face to face many years later during a crackdown on religious schism. The illegitimate som of the wife of a noble is in love with his own sister, and a "dangerous man", seeing them kiss, vows revenge and gets it in the one scene that got a tear out of me. A Jewish girl marries a revolutionary and converts in order to be safe, then watches her life deteriorate as the day of rebolution approaches.

I have to admit my own lack in that all the names being Russian or Ukrainian made it hard for me to track who was who, but I suspect had I been reading the book with my eyes I could have overcome that. Ihope to find a digital copy of the family trees at the behinning of the book. It will probably organize my understanding of the different characters and their eras for me. I will try to do this before the discussion group meets. On the other hand, my having read the other books which all took place in countries whose histories are acquainted with, I can say this book was the one the I learned the most from. I knew little about the history of the countries that came to be lumped under "Russia" and then un-lumped periodically. Rutherfurd traditionally uses certain physical traits or mannerisms to connect characters in the same family through the ages. I had a little more trouble tracking these in Russka. The boble landowner family seemed to share a particular way of touching someone caressingly on the arm, one familyhad red hair, music was central to another family, and somehow the Cossacks were recognizable. I think. If you tracked it better, I would appreciate a heads up.

The one big problem with the novel which was nevertheless fascinating was that when Rutherfurd got to the decades of the development of revolutionary ideas, he gets into way too much explanation, in my opinion. I kept wanting the characters in that period to do more with their personal lives to "show, don't tell".

These books, to be be frank, depress the hell out of me. I love reading them, but I always come away mourning how each generation after another loses any knowledge of the past ones.. and reading these books you get to know the individuals and for me at least having each one utterly obliterated from memory is horrifying. To each of us as individuals our perception and life are all important. It's less that I can't stand the idea that I will personally be forgotten but that any one of us will. Of course that's why I wrote my own novel, so the characters will have the longevity I cannot. Only a historical novelist would suffer the angst of whether characters will be remembered, never mind the author.

One final complaint.. why did the Mongol's head that was buried in front of the door of the house have to have such a blah reappearance?

OK, the Tear Factor in this novel.. considering I had three really good cries in the Irish saga, I had one mild choke up with Sergei, and one "oh dear" each about Peter and Karpenko. And whatever happened with Vladimir Svorin?

I have also been reading Morgan Llywelyn's 1916 for the Let's Read Historical Novels group and if I can get my barious audio devices to stop squabbling over it, that will be my next review.

Queen's Play. by Dorothy Dunnett (Lymond Chronicles #2)

Queen's Play
By Dorothy Dunnett

Lymond Chronicles #2

You know what gets me the most about Dorothy Dunnett's Lymond Chronicles? That they have existed for most of my life -- this one was completed in 1961, for instance, when I was nine -- and I didn't know. Maybe I had to be the age I am to really appreciate them, I don't know. But all I have to do now is think of one scene in Game of Kings to get breathless with wonder. And to think there are four more I have not read and that there must be some apotheosis I cannot anticipate in at least one of them... sigh.

Queen's Play takes Lymond to France in disguise to look after the welfare of little Mary, Queen of Scots. Her mother, the Dowager Queen of Scotland, is worriedabout numerous seemingly innocuous illnesses and accidents that she is hearing about and plans herself to spend some time with her daughter at the court of the Dowager's brother, King Henri II. Lymond doesn't want to go, but appealing to his tenderness towards the child, the Dowager succeeds in convincing him. Dunnett presents Lymond as one of the party of a Prince of Ireland, O'Liam Roe, coming to kiss up to the French Court. O'Liam himself is accompanied by his bard, and the reader doesn't know for a while which is Lymond, which caused for me one of those wonderful, magical moments when your mind goes back and reinterprets everything you've read. O'Liam is earnest, his bard madcap. Their babysitter, Robin Stewart, one of the French king's Sciots archers (remember them from Niccolo?) has his hands full with both, especially since one accident after another happens to threaten them.

Again the reader is presented with the self destructive Lymond. In one heart-breaking scene, his brother Richard tells him "But you have your whole life to live!" Francis replies, in the way of the brilliant, artistic young person (he's in his early 20s), "Yes, but for what?" You don't know at that moment whether you want to gather him up in your arms or punch him in the nose. In this novel he has another moment of painful self-revelation that is so tragic I had to stop reading and sit and stare. It was almost too hard to bear.

The reason is the brilliance of Dunnett's characterization, not only of Francis but of all the other characters. They are intensely human, completely credible, and incomplete enough to keep you longing for them to find peace or love or whatever you think they need. This book has elephants, lions, explosives, poisoned candy, and Scots disguised as all kinds of exotic characters, but you will find the people Lymond encounters as memorable. Una, the Irish revolutionary with her raucous aunt and abusive lover. The simple soulful Irish prince. Robin, the archer, who can't understand why he can't get ahead. The omni-affectional king of France with his cool de Medici wife and spiteful lover Diane. And how can we forget the bard, at once a drunken buffoon and exquisite musician?

There is one oddity that distracted me. I read the Biccolo books first, and in one volume the hero of that book engages in a rooftop race with a young Scot named Robin. The same happens here, though of course this is the earlier instance. Why Dunnett wrote about one of these dangerous, hilarious races and had a Robin in both is puzzling.

At various points in this novel when I began to shake my head at Francis Crawford of Lymond, at his self-indulgent and sometimes pathetic angst, I just remembered two things about him. His youth, for one, but also the transformation, or rather revelation, of Francis in the first novel. Then all I can do is shake my head... in wonder at Dunnett's mastery.

The Queen's Fool, by Philippa Gregory

The Queen's Fool: A Novel
By Philippa Gregory

Amazon.com lists this book as "The Queen's Fool: A Novel (Boleyn)" though there are no Boleyn's in sight, unless you count Elizabeth. Brandy Purdy should take note of this, since this bodes quite well for her novel, The Boleyn Wife coming out in February 2010! maybe if I changed the title of my own book to "An Involuntary King: A Tale of a Possible Boleyn Ancestor "...

Hannah Verde Green the Fool is the daughter of a Morano book seller and printer. They escaped Aragon after Hannah's mother was burned at the stake as a heretic for continuing to practice Jewish rites though ostensibly converted to Christianity. In the England of Edward VI and then Mary I they are still under threat, first from an intolerant Protestant king and then an intolerant Catholic queen. Because Hannah is a seer, Lord Robert Dudley of did-he-murder-his-wife-to-marry-Queen-Elizabeth fame, takes her to court to be a "holy fool" for Edward. Hannah proceeds to be sent hither and thither to spy first on Mary, then Elizabeth, then.. well you get the idea. Every object of her espionage she becomes devoted to for one reason or another. Mary is so kind and loving, Elizabeth is so smart and spunky, and Lord Robert is so hot... Hannah has a betrothed who adjusts to her more egalitarian notions of gender roles eventually, and really their relationship is the most interesting part of this book for someone like me who is not star struck by the Tudors and hangers-on.

There are several things in this novel that did not sit well with me. The portrayals of Mary and Elizabeth were, I think, rather cartoonish, with May a sweet loving and well meaning woman who just happened to act on her sweetness, love and good intentions by burning a whole lot of people as heretics or friends of heretics. Hey, they didn't call her "Bloody Mary" because she was "bloody marvelous" you know. This reminded me of a Catholic high school history text I once found at a used book sale that admitted mary had a lot of people killed, thus her unfortunate nickname "Bloody" assigned by historians, but after all, she was just doing what she thought was right by defending Holy Church! I mean, sheesh!

Elizabeth conversely is vain, scheming and petulant, which may be accurate but she has had to have a more well rounded personality. Mary's two "pregnancies" are handled oddly. She says she knows her baby is "gone", no explanation about where it went, if she miscarried, if it died in the womb, nothing. If she was never really pregnant, then where did the belly com e from? Perhaps I missed something. Another problem is one I have identified as a drawback to novelization of the lives of Real People. As in "Here Be Dragons" which was reviewed here recently, you have to make the stony you are writing fit the calendar of real events. Thus the dramatic sculpting that takes place in pure fiction is impossible, and frankly I don't like that. Mary's illnesses dragged on and on. If this was purely fiction, this would be regarded as sloppy writing.

Here is a most puzzling error. Part of the beliefs that got all these folks burned at the stake was the conviction that the Scriptures should be read only in Latin, that one of the perfidies of the Protestants was using Bibles translated into English. Then why is one of the sevices Mary calls on Hannah to perform reading scripture to her in Spanish? Latin is Latin, not Spanish. Mary, it appears, was also a heretic.

Finally, Gregory just seems to have a knack for protagonists I don't like. John Tradescant in Earthly Joys is an exception, but I liked Hannah almost as little as I liked Alys in The Wise Woman. I know you aren't necessarily supposed to like a main character but to understand her frailties and watch her grow. But when it feels like you are supposed to identify with the character, as I think the point was here, that's not so easy to do. They have to appeal enough to keep you interested. I lost interest in the characters in this book about halfway through... but kept reading for That's All She Read's sake.

The one bright light in this novel is Will Somers, the real fool who managed to survive Henry VIII, Edward VI and Mary. He appears as a loving, wise and protective father figure for Hannah. He is funny and thoughtful, well drawn, and I am glad to make his acquaintance.

Sharpe's Trafalgar, by Bernard Cornwell

Sharpe's Trafalgar: Richard Sharpe & the Battle of Trafalgar, October 21, 1805
By Bernard Cornwell

Richard Sharpe's Adventure Series #4

Bernard Cornwell starts the Historical Notes section of this novel by saying, "Richard Sharpe has no business being at Trafalgar." All I can say is that I was glad he was. After three novels set in India with in many ways much the same plots (good though!) it was fun to have Sharpe at sea literally and figuratively. He held more or less still, that is, he stayed in one place allowing for far more interaction with other characters, and it was fun to meet Horatio Nelson.

Sharpe leaves India to become part of an experimental unit of rifles. Muskets were the norm in those days, with all their inaccuracy. The spiral grooves, or rifling, inside the newer weapon's barrel made it far more accurate and more suitable for skirmish fighting. The new unit has just been re-designated the 95th Rifles, a name near and dear to all Sharpe fans. Sharpe books passage on a ship owned by the East India Company whose captain promptly sells out to the French warship, Revenant. Along comes the Poucelle, whose captain's fat Sharpe has just pulled out of the fire. Captain Chase is a swell guy, capital, really prime. He just happens to be on the prowl for the Revenant so off they go to catch it on its way back to Europe to stop a spy from delivering secrets to Napoleon about India. The Poucelle catches up with her nemesis just in time for both to become embroiled in the Battle of Trafalgar. Of course, that's not the entire story. Lord William Hale and his beautiful wife Lady Grace are aboard as well. While looking down her aristocratic nose at the very common Sharpe she nonetheless gets the hots for him, and he for her, and they "make the beast with two backs" -- hey, her husband said it, not me -- and spend much of the rest of the voyage worrying about being caught at it. By the end of the novel, Grace is carrying Sharpe's child.

It is interesting to see Sharpe coping with an unfamiliar environment. He fits in well with the marines aboard and is put in charge of a small detachment of them during the famous battle. He gets to climb the masts and arms and rat lines and all that nautical stuff. He even gets to throw a grenade. It's not like Sharpe has never shown his ruthless side, but something about a couple of the killings he does in this novel I found a bit surprising. He decides to see if he can pull off, no pun intended but nevertheless achieved, the Jetti trick of twisting a man's head right around and later just throws a guy overboard. That they were mean and nasty fellows is his reason, but it's still rather cold-blooded. The second man fills the billfor Sharpe's tendency to play James Bond villain and walk away before seeing the man actually die... so I suspect the French spy will show up again.

It's fun to see historical figures' portrayal in these books that only trot them out for cameos. Nelson, who dies in the Battle of Trafalgar, seems to be a regular guy who just happens to be a naval genius. Cornwell supplies Wellington's own record of meeting the man in the Historical Notes, an event that took place just three weeks before Nelson's death. Until Nelson realizes that Wellington is, as the future Duke himself says, "somebody" Nelson acts right foolish, then sobers and starts talking strategy, winning Wellington's respect. Sir Arthur comments that had the Secretary of State been prompt in meeting Nelson that day, he would never have seen that admirable side of the admiral.

The next novel in this series is the last of the Star Wars-like return to an earlier time, then back to the books in their original order. Stay Tuned.

How To Ruin a Perfectly Good Kids' Book by Narrating it

I just finished Dorothy Dunnett's Queen's Play, the second volume in the Lymond Chronicles, and I will review it here once I catch my breath.

In the meantime, I wanted to share something about my choice of the next book to read. I have lots of choices these days, a fact for which I would almost be ready to convert to a religion if it had a god I could thank for this... no, don't suggest any, please. But I usually turn first to the stack of little green boxes from Washington Talking Book and Braille Library since these books are expected back.

Looking at that stack, all books I requested specifically, I saw I had Penman's Falls the Shadow (I just read her Here Be Drahons), another Penman Justin de Quincy mystery (I read three other of these recently, not totally nuts about them), Red Branch, Morgan Lltwelyn's book about Cuchulain (I just read her Druids), and Philippa Gregory's The Queen's Fool, which is waht I settled on once I made an unfortunate discovery about the book that was my first choice. To wit, I reached for the three boxes for the K.M. Grant DeGrancille trilogy. The introductory narration said the book was for "Grades 6-9 and older readers". No worries, as I have read some wonderful books for that age group.

Then I got about four minutes into the book, got up from my tapestrizing, walked over and hit the off button. The reader killed it for me. She read it with the same voice one reads to small children. The sort of cutesy "and then the little white bunny jumped over the hedge and giggled ha ha ha back to its hole" sort of voice.

So sadly all three DeGranville books are going back in their little green boxes to the library. I am already a diabetic.. I don't think I need that much literary sugar, thank you.

This is one time I would really much rather have had my speech output voice crucifying pronunciation.

By the way, Christopher Gortner is talking about ebooks on his blog Historical Boys today. To his observation that ebooks all look the same, I replied.. "Funny, all print books look the same to people who can't read print!" No, not being snotty.. just pointing out what a wonderful chance it is to people who are print impaired that so many books are now in an accessible format.

Then to cap that coincidence, my own Booking the Middle Ages post today, written before I read Christopher's, is about how authors can make sure their books reach blind and otherwise print impaired readers.

Synchronicity? Sure, why the hell not?