Shop Talk: Uses of History in a Novel

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A Vigil of Spies, Alice Perrers, Black Prince, historical novels, Joan of Kent, King Edward III, Margaret Kerr, Owen Archer, revising a manuscript, Rosencrantz and Gildenstern Are Dead, The Hero's Wife, The King's Mistress, writing

I’ve been thinking about the various ways I use history in novels. In the Owen Archer novels, I (as Candace) make use of the history to create the motivation for the crime and the circumstances–political, cultural, local–that led to it and that create obstacles during the investigation–including whether, in the end, justice is served. In the Margaret Kerr novels the history is even more to the forefront, informing everything. The conflict between Scotland and England is the occasion for the upheaval in Margaret’s life. In The King’s Mistress, my focus is on the history of a specific woman, exploring a plausible scenario for Alice Perrer’s rise in status from the daughter of a merchant to the notorious mistress of the king. So the larger historical backdrop is significant as it pertains to Alice.

I am thinking about this as I rewrite this first novel about Joan of Kent*,  A Triple Knot, chronicling Joan’s marriage complications, caused in part by King Edward III’s determination to wage a costly war with France. I touched briefly on her “scandalous” history in A Vigil of Spies, then again, in a bit more depth, in The King’s Mistress. But I didn’t realize then the extent to which Edward’s war was one of the catalysts for the mess. The war is an antagonist in this story, as it is in the Margaret Kerr books.

Poor Joan. I keep thinking about what Guildenstern says toward the end of Tom Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead:  “There must have been a moment, at the beginning, where we could have said—no. But somehow we missed it.” For Joan it isn’t so much that she misses her chance at no, but that she impulsively chooses a way out that leads to–well, in the long run the War of the Roses. I certainly wouldn’t want that on my conscience. Even so, it’s a beautiful love story.

You’ll see what I mean.

*The Hero’s Wife is the title of the follow-on book, covering Joan of Kent’s life after her marriage to the Black Prince. As publishers seek leaner novels, I split Joan’s story in two in order to do it justice. And I know, I know, I’ve been writing this book forever.

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More Post Kalamazoo

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Alice Perrers, heteronormative rulership, King Edward II, King Edward III, King Richard II, Queen Isabella, Queen Philippa

Since the round table in celebration of Mark Ormrod’s Edward III (Yale, 2011), I’ve been rereading sections of the book with fresh eyes and mind. I first read it as I was rewriting Rebel Pawn, clearly reading the parts that might change my mind regarding sections I’d already finished with held breath and skittering eyes. I missed so much! I spent yesterday morning browsing the web for images of the Assault on the Castle of Love because Edward III had a set of hangings depicting this then popular theme in the royal chambers (see the 14th century ivory below–notice Cupid in the upper left hand corner aiming his arrow). This is the sort of detail that might appear with so little fanfare in the book that few readers will notice it, but it feeds my overall impression of Edward and Philippa, suggesting how they envisioned the many tournaments they hosted.

This monumental and wonderfully readable biography is filled with such details–on the very next page (145) Mark notes “Elizabeth de Burgh, dowager countess of Ulster, who had been a regular and prominent member of the court under Edward II, was notably cool in her relations with Edward III, even refusing to attend the wedding of her granddaughter to Prince Lionel in 1342.” Did she consider him a usurper of his father’s throne? Had he in some way insulted her? This is why I read history so slowly–my imagination leads me astray.

It’s also fun to reread with some of Mark’s comments in mind, such as that “the Order of the Garter is the beginning of Edward’s political theater”, or that King Charles V of France really turned things around and Edward didn’t want to see this. Edward held to his triumph of 1360 and that was his mistake. And this insight–as long as King Jean of France lived, Edward was encouraged that his ambitions would be realized. Now I return to the book and see, yes, he does say this in so many words, but it’s clearer now that I’m aware of it. That’s part of the value and the joy of attending the medieval congress, especially in years when I’m not traveling to England to sit down with Mark and others and chat over coffee.

******

Intrigued by Christine Ekholst’s research I looked her up online and bookmarked some pages so I can check back. Here’s her research partner’s (Henric Bagerius) description of their project: “Currently I am carrying out a research project on heteronormative rulership together with Christine Ekholst at University of Guelph. The aim of our project is to study late medieval kingship and queenship by analyzing the use of sexual transgressions – especially male sodomy and female adultery – in political propaganda. By using a queer perspective, we want to highlight the close connection between politics and sexuality that are evident in medieval chronicles, annals and pamphlets. We argue that the propaganda constructed a heteronormative rulership with clear norms for sexual and gender behavior for both king and queen and that these norms were regarded as essential for a well-functioning rulership.” And further: “The project consists of two parts. One part studies the political propaganda against six kings that were accused of sodomy and therefore were considered unfit to rule. The second part examines political propaganda against seven queens accused of adultery or debauchery. By using a queer perspective, we want to highlight the close connection between sexuality and politics that are evident in medieval chronicles, annals and pamphlets. We argue that the propaganda constructed a heteronormative rulership with clear norms for sexual and gender behavior for both king and queen and that these norms were regarded as essential for a well functioning rulership. The project is comparative and we will analyze sources from several European countries in order to better understand the construction of late medieval rulership. While medieval rulership and politics have been studied from many perspectives it is only recently that the need for a gender perspective has been underlined. Therefore, our project will provide a new perspective on the functions of rulership and demonstrate the importance of gender and sexuality in late medieval politics. It will lead to a deeper understanding of the personal nature of the political system and how propaganda was used and formulated during this period.”

You can see that this touches on both King Edward II and Queen Isabella, and King Richard II, but also, regarding healthy marriage, the fallout for King Edward III when his beloved Philippa died and his liaison with Alice Perrers became more public–precisely at a time of trouble, Prince Edward’s chronic illness and the rising strength of France under King Charles V. Indeed, if my notes from Christine’s talk are correct, Edward II is one of the 6 kings studied, and perhaps Richard II? I wish I took better notes….

Shop Talk: Character-Driven

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Alice Perrers, Archbishop Thoresby, Joan of Kent, King Edward III, Queen Philippa

Character-driven: it’s a phrase that’s become so common in reviews and articles about publishing that it’s in danger of becoming a cliche–perhaps it already has. But I live with the reality of a character-driven career. I am haunted, teased, cajoled, intrigued, scolded by my characters all the time. So I’ve set out to write a series of posts about what “character-driven” means to me.

Take, for example, Queen Philippa, wife of King Edward III. I’ve written about her–well, technically Candace has written about her– in the Owen Archer crime novels as Archbishop Thoresby’s beloved friend, the woman he held in highest esteem. I wrote about her as the ambivalent third party in the Alice Perrers/King Edward/Queen Philippa triangle in The King’s Mistress. And now in my books about Joan of Kent, wife of Philippa’s eldest son, the queen has become, in the second draft of the first book, a much more complex character than I’d allowed her to be before–let me correct that, than she’d revealed to me before. It was as I drew to the end of the first draft that she grew edgier, more demanding, more controlling. And as I wrote the long outline restructuring the first draft in prep for the second, she took over the beginning of the book. This is what I mean by character-driven from the writer’s point of view–every time I tried to write the prologue from either Joan’s or a fictional character’s point of view, Philippa took over. She’s angry, worried, frustrated, and she wants to make that clear from the start.

Much the same thing happened with Alice Perrers when I began The King’s Mistress. I intended to write in third person, from multiple points of view, but she insisted on turning every scene I wrote into first person. All the she’s referring to Alice became I’s. I couldn’t escape it, so I gave in. Fortunately Queen Philippa has not gone so far as to insist on first person. But she has a lock on the prologue.

If I seem to be complaining, I’m not, not really. It’s when my characters begin to wake me in the night with corrections to a scene or react to something that’s going on as I write, refusing to move in the direction I’d intended, that I know I’ve brought them to life. Frankly, for me, that’s what it’s all about, this writing life.

Autumn and revisions

How quickly the month advances. It must be autumn now–I made oatmeal this morning after shivering on the way to yoga class. The sun is shining, that slanted autumn light so welcome after days of mist and fog. Though I love walking in the mist–it feels private.

I’ve launched into a serious restructuring of the book previously known as The Hero’s Wife. I’ve found some underused characters, some intriguing subplots. I love close third person from multiple points of view–I enjoy exploring the contrasts among perspectives–each person sees her or his own reality. And I’m privy to all of them. This extensive revision does mean the book won’t appear next summer. Sorry! But I want Joan of Kent to have the book(s) she deserves.

Shop Talk: Inspiration = What Haunts You

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colm toibin, jeffrey eugenides, moment to moment, revising a manuscript, sense of urgency, The Hero's Wife, writing books

I highly recommend a piece in the opinion pages of the NYT today, a conversation between Colm Toibin and Jeffrey Eugenides, “The Stuff That Won’t Go Away”. I’ve copied below the part that resonated with me. As I rewrite the ms-that-was-formerly-known-as-The-Hero’s-Wife (haven’t yet replaced the title) I’m  focusing on infusing each scene with a sense of urgency.

Colm Toibin: “It seems that the essential impulse in working at all is to rehaunt your own house, or to allow what haunts you to have a voice, to chart what is deeply private and etched on the soul, and find form and structure for it.
“Thus the idea of making experience seem urgent, vital and alive remains at the core of our enterprise. We can bathe this in irony; we can find metaphors for it; we can even invent it and disguise it. But it is there in the room when there is nothing else in the room.”

Jeffrey Eugenides: “If I’m really honest about it (another fine word), it is indeed that simple: you’re alone in a room with the stuff that won’t go away. I won’t say “haunts,” because memory doesn’t feel ghostly to me, or unwanted. It’s more like a lost Eden: Detroit in the ’70s, college in the ’80s, all those vivid sensations and terrible mistakes still there for me to revisit and reuse in order to make up stories that never happened. “Making experience seem urgent, vital and alive” is exactly what we do. We don’t have to justify it or philosophize about it, or to bring in “progress,” necessarily, because such ideas happen after the fact and are extraneous to the main enterprise.”

There is no substitute for reaching within and bringing forth that haunting urgency, moment to moment asking the question, what compels me about this scene, this character, this event? The point is not breathless action, over the top emotion, but a subtle urgency that draws me (and future readers) deeper and deeper into the story. It keeps me excited about the book, even in a rewrite.

That this query has to do with a sense of urgency came to me as I watched waves rise, curl, crash at Cannon Beach last weekend. I felt the suspense, I couldn’t look away–the stormy ocean mesmerized me. I forgot everything else. I was just there with the waves, caught up in their continual reforming, anticipating the next one, and the next one. That’s the effect of great storytelling, isn’t it? Anticipating the next thrill, chill, tear, aha!, sigh…. What serendipity to read the above “conversation” this morning.

The Order of Whose Garter? (II)

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King Edward III, medieval history, The Order of the Garter

I skirted the issue of the garter in the first draft of the manuscript, though it’s such an integral part of Edward III’s court in the middle of the 14^th century. Fence straddling doesn’t lend itself to passionate, engaging characters, so as I await my editor’s feedback I’ve been discussing the issue with friends in the field and rereading the commentary.

My sticking point is the garter itself (see my previous post for an illustration). I think it looks far more like a buckled strap or belt than a woman’s garter. But a friend who’s rather an expert in medieval clothing and also a skilled seamstress tells me she’s seen women’s garters from the early 20^th century that looked quite similar, buckle and all. She warned me that scholars, no matter how careful, often make mistakes by falling into the trap of explaining historical garments by comparing them to contemporary pieces that look similar but have quite different uses. I have no doubt she’s right about that pitfall. But it’s Juliet Vale, for one, who in her highly regarded Edward III and Chivalry (Boydell 1982) writes, “No contemporary basis can be found for the legend associating the foundation with a garter dropped by the Countess of Salisbury. The apocryphal nature of this tale is perhaps best demonstrated by the fact that at this period female garters took the form of simple tapes.” She cites: Nevinson, J.L. Nevinson “The earliest dress and insignia of the knights of the Garter”, Apollo, xlvii (1948), pp. 80-3. Still, my colleague might know more about the clothing of the period than Vale.

Even so, I still lean toward the garter in question being that of a knight. In 1348/9 King Edward III was riding the wave of martial victories in France, particularly Crécy, and the roster of original Garter Knights reflected the importance of that victory. That he would choose a woman’s garter—intimate, feminine—over a knight’s belt or strap strikes me as out of character, off his theme. This Order was to unite the powerful and upcoming knights under Edward’s banner. To bond them, on the field and off.

The alternative view is that Edward would choose a woman’s garter as a symbol to honor those who fought at Crécy etc. because chivalry was big on knights fighting to honor the woman loved by individual knights. A friend sees nothing peculiar about it, but acknowledges that modern historians might find it peculiar because we have nothing like that today.  Secular/saintly ladies were regularly honored in single combats and in war. One tradition has Arthur fighting with a shield with his arms on the front and a picture of the Blessed Virgin Mary inside. Gawain (of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight) has the Blessed Virgin Mary inside his shield. It’s like fighting for homeland and apple pie—a reminder of all we hold dear. And then, of course, there’s the rape theory (see my previous post) which in my mind makes the lady’s garter even less likely–Edward flaunting the garter of his victim.

And then there’s the motto: Honi soit qui mal y pense (Shamed be he who thinks ill [or evil] of it). Is Edward challenging all who doubt his claim to the French throne? Or all who question his honoring the woman and her garter? Or accusing him of dishonoring her?

The Hero’s Wife–draft delivered

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Joan of Kent, The Hero's Wife

Just before midnight 7 July I emailed a complete draft of The Hero’s Wife to my editor at Crown.  Hurrah! Though I laugh at friends who say, Wow! It’s finished. It’s far from “finished”, but I’ve followed the story through, and come to a conclusion, and I’m confident there is a book here. That’s the hurrah. The frightening part is past.

Toward the end of a first draft I feel disembodied. I’m dizzy with conflicting ideas, dragging behind me the tangled ball of paths not taken, so wrapped up by the story lines that I’m vague about what’s going on in my “real life”. Joan of Kent has been a fascinating companion, hilariously rebellious as I’ve sorted out the knot of her marital history, followed my intuition on her motivations and those of her spouses, her family, and the royal family. What a cast of egos. They exhausted me.

From Chinese medicine I’ve learned about the need to replenish my “water” element after deep creative work. So I’ve spent a little over a week relaxing, especially walking along the lake, doing yoga, meditating, gardening, sleeping, catching up with my husband and with friends, replenishing my reserve.  Hm… has nature been assisting my “water” replenishment  with our rainy weather?

Now I think I’m ready to read through the draft, first for my overall impression, then with notes gathered along the way from my two first readers, and eventually with my editor’s input. I’m  anxious. What horrors lurk in those pages? I’m excited. What delights abound? I’m relieved. My first readers love it.

Toward the end my sanity was not helped by whispers in the night from the Owen Archer ensemble. Magda Digby’s been wandering around the nave of York Minster, Alisoun Ffulford is out to prove something, Owen is at sea since Thoresby’s death and Lucie’s worried about him. They’ve been clamoring for some structure in their lives, aka the 11th Owen Archer novel.

Much to do.

Update 19 February 2013. No, you haven’t somehow missed the publication of The Hero’s Wife; in fact, the book that will now carry that title is not yet written. After reading through the draft mentioned in this post is was clear to me that the title belonged to a followup book, and I renamed the current one. I’ll not jinx the new title by mentioning it. I’m afraid the current book that was formerly known as The Hero’s Wife does not yet have a publication date because… I am still working on it. Writing this book has proved a strange journey–if you’re going to the medieval congress at Western Michigan University this May you might want to attend the Society of the White Hart Saturday morning session, where I’ll present a paper on my experience of trying to make sense of Joan of Kent’s marital history.

Writing Women’s Lives

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women's history

Toward the beginning of her recent biography of Cleopatra*, Stacy Schiff  comments on how little specific information about Cleopatra is extant. What did she look like? “Only her coin portraits–issued in her lifetime, and which she likely approved–can be accepted as authentic.” Most of the Roman accounts of her were written long after her time. “No papyri from Alexandria survive.” The historians conflated her stories with those of others. “To restore Cleopatra is as much to salvage the few facts as to peel away the encrusted myth and the hoary propaganda.”

I empathize. The situation’s little better for the women about whom I’m writing–Alice Perrers, Joan of Kent. I’ve more information about Joan than I did about Alice, but I’ve also a great deal of conflicting mythology, some positive, some negative. In fact, that last quote from Stacy is spot on for Joan.

Just coming up for air and appreciating Schiff’s lovely prose….

*Cleopatra: A Life, Stacy Schiff (Little Brown 2010)

Winter Solstice

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historical novels, Joan of Kent

I’m ensconced in my office with Joan of Kent, dreaming about her marriages. Actually, because she doesn’t get to tell this all in first person, it’s quite crowded in here–Joan, Thomas Holland, Queen Philippa, King Edward (III), Edward of Woodstock, Joan’s mum Lady Margaret, and William Montague to name just the major players. It gets loud when the men put on their fighting gear. And the festive headdresses on both sexes get caught on the shades, the clock, the calendar….

Some people say that writing is a solitary profession. They’re not writers.

But to the winter solstice–what about that lunar eclipse?! I saw that 1648 was the last time winter solstice and lunar eclipse coincided like this–just after Charles I was captured. Takes you back, doesn’t it?

Wishing you all a winter of wonder.