Children of England: The Heirs of Kings Henry VIII, 1547-1558, by Alison Weir

With all the hoopla surrounding the royal birth, I was inspired this week to read up on some British history and, sitting on my shelves for quite some time was Children of England: The Heirs of Kings Henry VIII, 1547-1558, by Alison Weir.  This seemed like a great time to get to it.

Alison Weir is a fabulous historian and author who has done what few can and have done; she’s bridged the gap between professional and public writing.  It’s the dream of all historians to be able to write and publish books that are both snapped up by the general reading public and are well received by their peers.  Weir seems to have cracked the code and done just that.  Not only is she a well-respected non-fiction writer, but she’s also written several fiction books that are also popular.

In Children of England, Weir sets out to tell the story of the relationships between Edward IV, Jane Grey, Mary I, and Elizabeth I, who are the children and heirs to Henry VIII and his politics.

Mary was the daughter of Henry and Katherine of Aragon, and was the only surviving child of that marriage.  When Henry realized sons would be forthcoming, he divorced Katherine and married Anne Boleyn, who gave him Elizabeth; more children (including sons) might have come along, but Henry was fed up with Anne and divorced her and had her beheaded.  Edward, the long-sought after son, was the fruit of Henry’s next marriage to Jane Seymour.  Jane Grey, however wasn’t a child of Henry’s – she was the daughter of the daughter of Henry’s sister, and was raised a devout Protestant. 

When Henry died, he left behind a will that had been ratified by Parliament; Edward was his successor, but Mary and then Elizabeth would follow him if Edward didn’t have any children, and in Elizabeth’s case, if Mary didn’t have any children.  It was all very dicey as Edward with a devout Protestant, Mary was a fervent Catholic, and Elizabeth was just trying to stay alive.  When Edward died before he could marry, the Protestant faction at court scrambled to find someone to step into the monarch’s role that wouldn’t tank the Protestant reformation that had been going on in England; the natural choice would be Jane Grey, who had a claim to the Tudor blood line and was legitimate (unlike Mary and Elizabeth, who had been declared bastards when their father divorced their mothers).  The Protestant faction at court put Jane on the throne for nine days following the death of Edward, but Mary was able to raise an army in her defense and re-took the throne quickly; when Mary died without heirs (not from lack of trying, and a couple of false positives), Elizabeth came to power.

That is a potted history of the situation.  In her work, Weir states that she’ll be looking at the relationship(s) between the four heir of Henry to see how they related and interacted with one another, and how that influenced their decisions and action.  While she does this for the first two-thirds of the work, her assessment of the personal dynamics ends after Mary comes to the throne.  In my mind, the relationship between Mary and Elizabeth after Mary comes to power but before her death is critically important – it sets up rational for many of the early policies of Elizabeth’s reign and the Golden Age in England.  And yet, in favour of a religious/political assessment of Mary’s reign, Weir overlooks it.  It was a serious misstep, in my opinion.

But, for the rest of the work, and even during that last third when she assesses Mary’s personal life, Weir delivers an interesting and engaging assessment of the personal histories of three ‘blink and you miss them’ monarchs, and one of England’s most successful queens.  The stories that Weir is able to extract from a disparate collection of sources (such as court reports, personal journals, and diplomatic letters) brings a level of personalization and almost gossip to the lives of her subjects, and humanizes them.  It’s interesting and a well-written account of the lives of four of England’s monarchs.

So, final verdict?  I’d say read this book.  For a historical biography, it demonstrates exactly why Weir is so well received in both professional and public spheres – it’s interesting and engaging, it rarely lags, and it does a good job at giving as personal an account as possible of four very important figures in Tudor history.  I enjoyed it, and I’ll be going back to Weir as an author for both fiction and non-fiction works for years to come.  

Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim, by David Sedaris

Once again, the book graveyard in the laundry room of my building paid off.  This time, I picked up Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim by David Sedaris.  I’ve already reviewed a work by Sedaris (Let’s Explore Diabetes with Owls), and as Sedaris is an essayist, there’s really no point in going into a great amount of detail about this work, as it’s similar to Owls.

I will, however, give you a little taste of why I love this guy’s work so much:

On the topic of his apartment, Sedaris tells us that his landlord won’t sell it to him because he wants to keep it to give to his granddaughters as an inheritance some day.  Sedaris loves his apartment, and has this to say about the situation:

… I kept hoping for a miracle.  A riding accident, a playhouse fire: lots of things can happen to little girls.

Later on in the essay, while the apartment hunt continues, Sedaris suggests that maybe Anne Frank’s family was turned in so that an enterprising neighbour could take over their apartment which, with a little bit of remodeling work, would be great.

A little macabre?  Yes.  But my sense of humour?  Totally.

So, final verdict?  Read this book, and all the others that Sedaris puts out there.  It’s comic gold.

The Lincoln Lawyer Series, by Michael Connelly

When I was in high school, I was convinced I was going to be a lawyer.  Specifically, a Crown prosecutor.  I think a major contributing factor to this career path was Jack “Hang ‘em High” McCoy – the ADA character from Law and Order.  In McCoy’s world, right and wrong were clearly delineated and things were (for the most part) simple: bad guys went to jail for as long as possible and anyone who got in McCoy’s way would be held responsible in some part for the crime.  I have a very black and white world view – my boss comments on it all the time – so McCoy fit into that perfectly, and I was going to follow in his foot steps.

So what happened?  During the first year of my undergraduate degree, I bought a practice LSAT book.  I spend 15 or 20 minutes on the first question and was reduced to tears.  I couldn’t figure out what the question wanted, or how I was supposed to find an answer.  It’s taken me years, but I realize now that my thought processes just don’t accommodate the LSAT way of thinking.  Needless to say, the experience tanked my desire to practice law thoroughly.  But that doesn’t mean I don’t still enjoy Law and Order or reading crime novels.  

All that brings me to my latest reads, the Lincoln Lawyer series by Michael Connelly.  Currently published are The Lincoln Lawyer, the Brass Verdict, The Reversal, and The Fifth Witness.  There’s a fifth book coming out later on this year. 

This series is centered around defense attorney Mickey Haller.  Mickey, as a character, is incredibly engaging.  He is charming, intelligent, and principled.  It’s hard to reconcile such a great guy with the role of a defense attorney; Mickey’s clients are drug dealers, gang members and murderers.  And yet, because he is principled, he does his best for his clients within the existing system.  There are moments where Mickey has crises of conscious, but he always comes back from them with to two facts: 1- the justice system requires that the accused be given a fair and equal opportunity to present their case, and 2- if he didn’t represent them, someone else will.  Mickey is incredibly likeable, even to the point that you can overlook the fact that he’s a defense attorney which, until I read these books, I always considered to be the worst of the worst of society.

Each book in the series focuses on a particular case that Mickey is working.  This gives the reader a chance to view how a defense attorney might put together everything from a jury box, to a witness list, to an alternate theory.  Not all books hit on all aspects of a defense attorney’s role with the same level of details, but each book provides the insight required to reach the verdict for the client, and it’s indicative of Connelly’s deft hand that he’s not repetitive in each book.

In terms of writing style, Connelly is fabulous.  The books are fast paced, all the characters are strong, and the dénouement is fluid and believable.  One of my favorite aspects to the books are the side stories to the main event – written in the first person, Mickey often tells the readers stories about his past experiences or other case he’s heard of that are ridiculously hilarious.  These become insights to the larger legal system, and while they don’t always develop the plot, they are lighthearted additions to the books.

The fact that the voice of the books is the first person is, I think, what makes them so engaging and interesting.  It helps tremendously with the character development of Mickey and it adds to his charm and panache.  In The Reversal, Connelly switches between the first person narration of Mickey and a third person narration of Harry Bosch (one of his other famous characters) to tell the story, and I think the book (and series) suffers immensely from this decision – it’s still well written, it’s still interesting, but it’s missing that spark that the other books in the series have.  It had the potential of being the most interesting case that Mickey tackles (and the most interesting way he tackles a case ever), but that potential was lost in splitting the readers’ attention.  Regardless, I won’t hold it against Connelly.

So, final verdict?  (Ha ha!  I just realized what I did there….)  I’d say read these books.  They are great beach-blanket reading for the summer, and a great escape for the rest of the year.  Who knows, maybe like me, these books will give you a new perspective on what it means to be a defense attorney.

The best thing I've read all summer!

Congratulations to the Duke and Dutchess of Cambridge in the growth of their little family!

The Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde

**Spoiler Alert – I give away a minor plot point.  In my defense, you’ve had more than 150 years to read this book.**

Remember Wishbone?  For those amongst you who were never introduced to the joys of the Wishbone television show, Wishbone was a dog who liked to tell stories based on great pieces of literature.  Inevitably, Wishbone himself would play a part in the telling of the story – what really stands out in my mind is the canine Odysseus.  But I digress, and bring us back to my purpose here today.  During the time that Wishbone was on the air, I took a serious interest in classical works.  I usually couldn’t get through any of them, but I still tried.  In that spirit, my dad took me to the Chapters store on Rideau (I remember it being one of my first trips there!) and bought me The Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde, to read.  It promptly sat on my bookshelf though three moves, and I didn’t get around to reading it until this week.  Sorry Dad.

Onwards….  The plot: This is the story of one Dorian Gray to whom the reader is introduced while he is in his young and impressionable 20s.  Gray is sitting for a portrait being created by his friend Basil, and while there, he meets Basil’s friend Lord Henry.  Henry takes great delight in being a dilatant with few exhibited morals and cares for those around him, and takes great delight in impressing this way of life on Gray.  Upon the portrait’s completion, Gray laments that it will continue to be a beautiful testament to his youth while he’ll grow old overtime; in a Freaky Friday kind of thing, he wishes that the portrait would grow old while he stays young.  It’s not until later, after he breaks the heart of a young actress, leading to her suicide, that he notices that the portrait takes on the physical imprint of the things he does in his life, while he retains his youthful charm.  Here I’ll leave off with a summary of the plot, as things move into climax and dénouement, and I wouldn’t want to ruin it for anyone.

So there – it took me about a paragraph to give you the plot.  One would wish that Wilde also learnt to be a bit more concise.  This novel suffers from what a lot of Georgian/Victorian novels suffer from – an author with a social agenda and a penchant for moralizing.  For those that aren’t familiar with Wilde, he lived one of the worst kept secrets in London – namely that he was gay.  He was a well received author and whit however, which kept some of the negative censure at bay for his lifestyle during the famously repressive Victorian age, but he still faced criticism and austerized.  The Picture of Dorian Gray reads like an indictment of the life styles of those who hounded Wilde.  For those not knowledgeable about nineteenth century London and its society (or for those who don’t care), this book is a slog.  I’m pretty sure that a judicious editor could get this story in under 50 page if they really tried.  Many times, I found the moralizing to be just too much – I didn’t find it interesting and it distracted from the rest of the work.

As for the other points I usually hit on in a review: in terms of writing style, it’s good, but the moralizing gets in the way.  More, character development is hampered by the moralizing as well; for a story based completely on one man’s journey from impressionable youth to hurtful bon vivant, there’s not a lot of character development that isn’t wrapped up in the moralizing; consequently, it gets lost.

So, final verdict?  Find an abridged version of this story.  There’s no need to read it in its entirety.  If you’re interested in reading Wilde’s work, why not try some of his plays, which are funny and full of the whit he was renowned for (like The Importance of Being Ernest or A Woman of No Importance).  Or, if you have a friend who has a friend, get them to revive Wishbone and have him cover it – it would end up being a lot more enjoyable that way….

The Golem and the Jinni, by Helene Wecker

You know those movies that all your friends tell you are simply the funniest/scariest/best thing they’ve ever seen, so you just have to see it for your self?  You build up your perception of the movie until it’s of Oscar-worthy proportions, but then you see it and, while it’s good, it falls a little flat?  That’s how I would describe my experience with my latest read, The Golem and the Jinni, by Helene Wecker.  That is not to say I didn’t enjoy this work – I absolutely did! – just that I was expecting something a little different.

The Golem and the Jinni is the story of two mystical creatures who, by happenchance, find themselves in turn of the century (nineteenth to twentieth, that is) New York.  The Golem had been built to be a wife for a Polish immigrant who died on the journey from Europe, while the Jinni is unexpectedly released from his prison (a copper oil jar) by a tinsmith.  The book tells the story of their efforts to fit into the immigrant societies they find themselves in, of their meeting and friendship, and finally of their efforts to find a permanent way to live with their true natures.

And that’s the key to this work – it’s all about the intrinsic nature of people (okay, and mystical creatures).  Are you meant to be subservient to someone, or create your own path?  Can you be happy in what you build for yourself, or will you live is a suspended state?  And at the centre of all this is the basic question I think we all ask ourselves from time to time - are you good at heart, or evil? 

Wecker, in some ways, blew me away with this book; keep in mind that this is her first novel.  First of all, her method of describing the history and nature of her characters is incredibly enjoyable; I think some of the best written and most interesting passages are the biographical ones where she gives us the history of her characters.  Secondly, the writing style is fast-paced and enjoyable; at no point does it lag.  Finally, Wecker’s ability to bring all the disparate pieces of her story (that is to say, the characters themselves) together into a well-balanced and well-crafted plot is amazing; like the Jinni’s love of fine filigree work, Wecker’s own story is held together by small strands that run throughout each character’s tale – those strands are delicate and beautifully worked, and contribute to the whole in such a way that they add to the overall pleasure of the read.

On a practical front, it’s interesting to read about mystical characters that aren’t angst-y sparkly teenagers.  A golem is a monster from Jewish mythology that is built of clay and intended to be bound to a master to do their bidding; a jinni is a creature much like our modern impression of a genie (but with more nuances).  While the shelves of the local book stores are stuffed with vampires, wolf men, and zombies, Wecker found a way to buy into the supernatural craze in a wholly unique way, for while I think she deserves some serious kudos.

So, final verdict?  Definitely read this book.  It’s a joy to read and a well-written piece of literature which, I’m sure, is going to be on a lot of lists for this year.  However, don’t let yourself be sold by the hype like I did, or else it might not live up to your expectations.  Wecker’s abilities, however, are great, and I’ll be looking for more of her work in the future; I think she’s an author I’m going to be enjoying for years to come.  

White Rose Rebel, by Janet Paisley

My latest read, White Rose Rebel, by Janet Paisley, has been sitting on one of my book shelves for years.  Several times, I picked it up, read the book flap, and considered sitting down with it, but never did.  Clearly, my good sense wasn’t wasted.

There is nothing wrong, per say, with this book.  It has an interesting plot centered around the 1745 Scottish rising against the English; there are a handful of interesting characters; and the writing style is readable.  But it’s missing something – it’s missing a spark.  I don’t know if the lack should be laid as my feet (in that I just wasn’t feeling it), or if there really is something missing here that other would pick up.

To be fair, the first two-thirds of the books could use some judicious editing.  The problem, though, is I can’t put my finger on what it is that should come out.  It all seems to contribute to the plot, the characters are well represented, and it reads quickly enough, but I just didn’t find it that interesting.

So, final verdict?  If you’re interested in eighteenth century Scottish history (particularly the rising of the clans and the Battle of Culloden), then this is a book for you.  Otherwise, I’d recommend you skip this one.  That, or read it, and point out what it is that I’m missing!