I finished The Other Boleyn Girl, by Philippa Gregory over a week ago, and I still find myself thinking about the characters. I’ve been fascinated by Henry VIII and his wives since I was seven years old. I still have the Katherine Parr doll my parents bought me in England. But Gregory’s book brought Henry and his court to life for me.
The narrator is one of Henry’s mistresses, Anne Boleyn’s sister, Mary. The story follows her life from the time she first catches the eye of the king at age fourteen through Henry’s divorce of his first wife, Katherine of Aragon, to Anne Boleyn’s triumph and fall as the queen who replaces Katherine and then is replaced herself.
Gregory doesn’t linger on the theological wrangling over Henry’s claim that his first marriage was invalid or the political maelstrom that led to his appointing himself head of the church in England. Her focus on Mary and key members of the ambitious, grasping, ruthless Boleyn/Howard family allows her to delve into the personal motives and personal fallout from Henry’s and Anne’s reckless selfishness.
I knew the ending of Anne’s story, but not Mary’s, which kept the suspense high. Mary’s tale makes Anne’s fall—and Henry’s fall from grace as England’s golden prince—seem inevitable, but it is the intensity and absolute believability of Gregory’s characters, not the fact of knowing the historical reality, that make it so.
I’ve now read the first two books in the Bombshell Madonna Key series, and I can hardly wait to read the rest. Evelyn Vaughn starts the series with Lost Calling, which brings together museum curator Catrina Dauvergne and former Catholic priest Rhys Pritchard from her Grail Keepers series.
Cat is a delight, a self-acknowledged hard-hearted, selfish piece of work, who finds herself unable to turn away from the historical rehabilitation of a group of 18th century women murdered for their beliefs and sentenced to oblivion. Along the way, she grudgingly demonstrates her redeeming qualities, falls desperately in love with a truly good man, and saves Paris from destruction.
Cindy Dees’ Haunted Echoes continues the story of the rediscovery of the cult of the Black Madonnas, as Interpol agent Ana Reisner struggles to prevent the murder of an elderly woman who may be the only person who can help her stop the ominous power outages plaguing France. First Ana must decide if she can trust her two dubious allies—an art thief and a ghost with ties to Elizabeth I.
Both Vaughn and Dees have put interesting characters into intriguing, fun stories. As I said, I can’t wait to read the rest.
I’ve just started Cate Dermody’s June Bombshell, The Firebird Deception (if you can call dashing through a page or two while a nursing baby tries to rip the book out of your hand “reading”—at least she loves books!) I thoroughly enjoyed CIA agent Alisha MacAleer’s first adventure, The Cardinal Rule, and am looking forward to seeing how she continues to juggle saving the world while fending off her two hunky admirers, who seem more intent on getting her killed than wooing her.
Yeah, I enjoy reading Bombshells as well as writing them…
I’m also in the midst of reading Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World, by Joanna Weaver, a book of lessons the author draws from the story of the two sisters of Bethany who befriended Jesus—Martha, who rushed around to serve him, and Mary, who sat at his feet.
I admit it—I’ve always identified more with Martha. So the advice about leaving behind the burdens of busyness is both right on target and hard to implement. I’ve just finished the section on worry. Me, worry? Ha. Never. Just like I never eat too much chocolate or forget to floss my teeth. (When did I floss my teeth last? Have I done that this year? I’m on the way to a root canal for sure. Or maybe dentures. How will I eat Heath bars with no teeth???)
The truth is, I’ve had a lot of help carrying difficult burdens, and it’s humbling to be reminded that I should quit trying to do it myself and give God some room to work.
The most recent book I actually finished was Hard Truth, by Nevada Barr, the latest in Barr’s mystery series featuring National Park Ranger Anna Pigeon. I knew terrible things happened to children in this book—it opens with two teenage girls, missing for weeks, turning up in Rocky Mountain National Park battered and traumatized, unable or unwilling to tell anyone where they’ve been. I almost didn’t pick up the book because of that.
And yet, once I did, I had to read on to find out if these girls indeed survive their ordeal—hardly a given, despite their apparently safe return home. Barr’s wrenching description of Anna’s imperfect struggle against the great evil infesting her park kept me huddled on the couch reading long into the night (and with a 10-month-old alarm clock in the house who doesn’t have a “snooze” button that’s quite a sacrifice!).
On the other hand, I wouldn’t recommend reading this book that close to bedtime…