A sigh-worthy British read.

Yeah, here's a shocker: I'm more interested than ever in reading books about British history.

I also thought it might be fun to combine the side of my personality that responds to chick flicks (yeah, that would be the "big sap" side) with the side that demands British history details, so I picked up Sarah Gristwood's Elizabeth & Leicester: Power, Passion, Politics, about Queen Elizabeth I and her longtime friend and counselor Robert Dudley (the later Earl of Leicester).

All in all, it should come as no surprise that I found this one a satisfying read. There's a bit too much "did they or didn't they?" speculation, but in all fairness, I suppose that's the question a lot of people have about the Virgin Queen and, by all accounts, a man she honestly loved. It's not the thing I find most interesting about their relationship, though, particularly not when you consider the speculation about how Dudley's first wife died (did he or didn't he have a hand in her death, so he had a better shot at marrying Elizabeth), and the overall question of Elizabeth's personality. Why didn't she--and, as the author points out, the best evidence that Elizabeth really didn't want to marry is that she never did--want to get married? That is the crux of the matter that I find the most fascinating. Was she afraid a marriage would be the end of her power? Was she afraid of the risks of childbirth? Did watching her father's treatment of his many wives, you know, sour her on the whole idea?

This is an interesting book, but it may not be the best place to start if you're looking for a full biography of Elizabeth; it really does focus on the relationship. It is, however, a librarian's dream: it's got lovely source notes in the back about related reading, a short appendix on film versions of Elizabeth's life, and a very comprehensive index. Kudos to the author and publisher for all those things.

Incidentally: I included pictures of two different covers for this book, neither of which I am particularly fond. By all accounts, Elizabeth ruled just as much with her head as with her torso. So why don't we get to see it? For some reason these beheaded women portraits on any covers--fiction included--creep me out.

Comments

[Robert Brown]

First of all, E was totally a torso-ruler. Every bio of the woman I've encountered has made this trait explicit. You need to dig deeper before you make such assertions. Head? Humpf!

The headless heir of Henry VIII. Now that's creepy!

How about: the book industry finishes what Homicidal Hank started!

[sarah]

I can tell which one is the British edition. It seems to be a national standard.

Did you know that Leicester's second wife (after Amy who "fell" down a staircase) was Lettice Knollys, whose son was the Earl of Essex (Liz's last fling)? Keep it in the family!

I think she didn't really want to get married, for all of the above reasons. I know there were some candidates brought forward, but in the end nothing happened.

[Heidi]

I've been immersing myself in Tudor history for the bulk of this year after discovering the British Library had a Henry VIII exhibition this year to celebrate 500 years since his accension to the throne. There are some really great podcast lectures on their website.

I am currently reading Elizabeth's Women by Tracy Borman and am up to the bit, coincidentally, where she begins to discuss Elizabeth's marriage shenanigans and her relationship with Leicester.

Having read this and many other books on Elizabeth (Alison Weir is queen of Tudor history for me), I doubt Elizabeth 'did the deed' with Leicester or anyone else. Apart from having come very close to disgrace with her stepmother, Catherine Parr's second husband Thomas Seymour, in her teens, Elizabeth was constantly surrounded by people - there was just no privacy. She would never have risked the crown, and you need to realise how tenuous was her grip on the crown - she was a female, not regarded as capable, and there were those who doubted the legitimacy of her claim.

[Jodie]

Headless women as a book cover fashion creeps me out as well and now it seems it's moving from chick-lit into historical non-fiction!

[Citizen Reader]

Bert,
Okay, the line about the book industry finishing Hank's beheading work is priceless. Somebody somewhere needs to give you a book contract of some kind; I feel like I should be paying you for these pearls but I'm not able to!

[Citizen Reader]

Sarah,
Yes, and he was buried next to Lettice too; the book describes their relationship as well. And really, there were only so many nobles around, so I suppose keeping things all in the family was pretty much the standard. I think you're right about the marriage too; and I agree with this author that the best evidence for that thought is that she didn't get married.

Heidi,
Thanks for the tip about the podcasts, I'm going to have to look into that. (Also about "Elizabeth's Women," which I now must get.)

I'm inclined to believe that Elizabeth was in fact a Virgin Queen. But perhaps I am hardwired to accept that, as I am Catholic and we're made pretty familiar with the concept of the "ever virgin Mary" from the start. I would imagine that worrying about risking your crown, or an untimely pregnancy, or the horrors of childbirth, especially in that day and age, would be enough to kill any frisky mood (especially if you didn't have that much privacy to begin with).

Jodie,
I'm with you. Not quite sure why publishers and book designers think the headless woman concept is such a winner, but I suppose, if books with these covers sell, everyone jumps on the bandwagon.

[lesbrarian]

More on headless womenfolk:

http://www.firstthings.com/blogs/firstthoughts/2009/11/18/eyes-wide-cut/

[Citizen Reader]

Lesbrarian,
Oof, I don't know that there's any big conspiracy there, but it's creepy to see them all together, isn't it? Gave me the heebies. (But thanks for the link all the same!)