• Rezultati Niso Bili Najdeni

The genre of Historical Fiction

N/A
N/A
Protected

Academic year: 2022

Share "The genre of Historical Fiction "

Copied!
86
0
0

Celotno besedilo

(1)

Filozofska fakulteta

Oddelek za anglistiko in amerikanistiko

The Wars of the Roses in Historical Fiction

Vojna dveh rož v zgodovinskih romanih

Magistrsko delo

Mentor: red. prof. dr. Jason Frederick Blake Tamara Zupan

Ljubljana, september 2021

(2)

Izjava o avtorstvu

Izjavljam, da je magistrsko delo v celoti moje avtorsko delo ter da so uporabljeni viri in literatura navedeni v skladu s strokovnimi standardi in veljavno zakonodajo.

Ljubljana 24. september 2021 Tamara Zupan

(3)

Izjava kandidatke

Spodaj podpisana Tamara Zupan izjavljam, da je besedilo magistrskega dela v tiskani in elektronski oblik istovetno, in dovoljujem objavo magistrskega dela na fakultetnih spletnih straneh.

Datum: 24.9.2021

Podpis kandidatke:

(4)

Table of Contents

Abstract ... 5

Izvleček ... 6

Introduction ... 7

The genre of Historical Fiction ... 8

The question of Historical Accuracy ... 9

The Wars of the Roses in Fiction ... 12

Philippa Gregory ... 13

The influence of different first-person narrators ... 14

Female main characters in a series for female audience ... 23

Magic as a subplot ... 28

The Princes in the Tower ... 33

Sharon Kay Penman ... 39

The influence of the third-person narration and characterisation ... 41

Balance between different plotlines ... 46

The Princes in the Tower ... 54

The influence of the Penman’s personal beliefs on the characterisation of Richard III ... 58

Conn Iggulden ... 62

Narration and Characterisation ... 62

Lack of important female characters ... 66

Major plotlines of the series ... 70

The Princes in the Tower ... 74

Comparison of the characterisations of historical figures... 77

Conclusion ... 83

Works Cited ... 84

(5)

Abstract

The subject of this master’s thesis is the Wars of the Roses in Historical Fiction. The thesis compares novels written by three authors of historical fiction: Philippa Gregory, Sharon Penman and Conn Iggulden. These authors all set their respective historical fiction novels during the Wars of the Roses. This thesis looked into the similarities and differences in these novels, while focusing on the quality of writing.

The first part of the thesis defines the historical fiction genre and its subgenre of biographical fiction, which features historical figures as characters. The thesis also looked into the importance of historical accuracy in fiction.

The second part of the thesis consists of a more concrete analysis of the novels discussed. This part begins with the analysis of four motifs found in Philippa

Gregory’s The White Queen, The Red Queen and The Kingmaker’s Daughter. Then it continues with Sharon Kay Penman’s The Sunne in Splendour, and Iggulden’s Trinity, Bloodline and Ravenspur. Finally, the thesis makes a comparison of how four historical figures were portrayed by each of the three authors.

Key words: historical fiction, Wars of the Roses, comparison, historical figures

(6)

Izvleček

Tema magistrske naloge je Vojna dveh rož v zgodovinski fikciji. Magistrska naloga je primerjala romane treh avtorjev zgodovinske fikcije: Philippe Gregory, Sharon Kay Penman in Conna Igguldna. Vsi trije avtorji so dogajanje svojih zgodovinskih

romanov postavili v čas Vojne dveh rož. Magistrska naloga je primerjala podobnosti in razlike teh romanov, osredotočila pa se je tudi na kvaliteto pisanja.

Prvi del magistrske naloge definira žanr zgodovinske fikcije in podžanr biografske fikcije, v kateri kot liki nastopajo zgodovinske osebnosti. Magistrska naloga govori tudi o pomembnosti zgodovinske natančnosti v fikciji.

Drugi del magistrske naloge pa obsega analizo romanov. Začne se z analizo štirih motivov iz romanov The White Queen, The Red Queen in The Kingmaker’s Daughter Philippe Gregory. Temu sledi analiza motivov v romanu The Sunne in Splendour Sharon Kay Penman in v romanih Trinity, Bloodline in Ravenspur Conna Igguldna.

Na koncu magistrska naloga primerja, kako so bile štiri zgodovinske osebnosti upodobljene v delih teh avtorjev.

Ključne besede: zgodovinska fikcija, Vojna dveh rož, primerjava, zgodovinske osebnosti

(7)

Introduction

Historical fiction is one of the most popular literary genres among readers. This thesis will discuss seven novels that are all set during the Wars of the Roses, in order to see how different historical fiction authors present the same event or era in their novels.

Firstly, the thesis will look into the genre of historical fiction and its subgenre

biographical fiction. In this theoretical part, there will also be a discussion on historical accuracy, and to what extent a writer of historical fiction should respect the accuracy.

This part will conclude with some information on the Wars of the Roses in historical fiction. This theoretical part will be followed by an analysis of three works of historical fiction that are all set during the Wars of the Roses. The works in question are

Philippa Gregory’s The White Queen, The Red Queen, and The Kingmaker’s Daughter, Sharon Penman’s The Sunne in Splendour and Conn Iggulden’s Trinity, Bloodline, and Ravenspur. The thesis will look into the novels of each author

separately, and analyse some motifs found in these books, while it will also focus on assessing the quality of the books. This will be followed by a comparison of

characterisations of some characters that represent notable historical figures to show how different authors can create completely diverse characters from the same

historical figures.

The objective of this thesis is to show how several fiction writers can take the same historical event and historical figures, and produce completely distinct stories and characters, while using a variety of theories.

(8)

The genre of Historical Fiction

Encyclopaedia Britannica defines the historical novel as “a novel that has as its setting a period of history and that attempts to convey the spirit, manners, and social conditions of a past age with realistic detail and fidelity (which is in some cases only apparent fidelity) to historical fact.” For a novel to be perceived as belonging to the historical fiction genre, it should be set at least fifty years in the past. However, as a critic Sarah Johnson pointed out at the Associated Writing Programs annual

conference in March 2002, defining the genre of historical fiction is not this simple.

She brought up the question of whether with the period fifty years in the past one means the reader’s past or the writer’s past. After all, modern readers might see Jane Austen’s novels as historical fiction, but Austen herself was writing about the period she lived in. Johnson takes this into account by developing the definition of historical novel as “a novel which is set fifty or more years in the past, and one in which the author is writing from research rather than personal experience.”

While the definitions of the genre may differ, it is safe to say that at present historical fiction is popular. In The Historical Novel, Jerome de Groot points out that “the last few decades have seen an explosion in the sales and popularity of novels set in the past” (1). As a proof, he suggests a visit to any bookshop, where he assures the Historical Fiction section will be full of different novels written by diverse authors, such as Philippa Gregory, Ken Follett and Georgette Heyer to name just a few. The same is true for book delivery websites, such as Book Depository. Historical fiction has its own category, and the choice of novels is simply overwhelming. All this suggests that the demand for this particular genre is high nowadays.

When researching a literary genre, it is impossible to overlook its invention and evolution. In the case of the historical fiction, it all began with Sir Walter Scott and his Waverley. It introduced a new form, and it was incredibly successful and influential.

Marxist literary theorist Georg Lukács wrote an essay The Historical Novel, which focuses on Scott, and seeks to understand the “social and ideological basis from which the historical novel was able to emerge” (qtd. in de Groot 19). Lukács’

argument is that novels with “historical themes” existed before Scott, but unlike these novels, Scott tries to understand individuals historically instead of just using history as background. Other authors followed Scott’s example, and many of iconic literary

(9)

works of the 19th century, such as William Makepeace Thackeray’s Vanity Fair, Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities, Victor Hugo’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame and Tolstoy’s War and Peace belong to the historical fiction genre. In The Historical Novel, de Groot points out that many of those writers “used the historical novel to contemplate social change” (34). The main objective of these writers was thus not to entertain their readers, but to educate them. In the 20th century, several subgenres of the historical novel emerged, such as documentary fiction, historical romance,

historical fantasies and fictional biographies.

Biographical fiction

Biographical fiction is a subgenre of the historical fiction. It provides a fictionalised account of the life of a historical figure. In Descendants of Waverley, Martha F.

Bowden explains that “rather than inserting fictional characters in the grey,

unchartered spaces, the novels flesh out motivations, invent lost conversations, and bring the bones of the historical record to life” (157). Bowden goes on by exposing a great dilemma that the authors of biographical historical fiction encounter. It is the line between fiction and fact. When a historical fiction novel features invented characters, the author has more liberty to use their imagination, to create a story that is

completely their own. Writing biographical fiction with historical figures as central characters is more tricky, as it is possible that a well-informed reader will find factual errors. At the same time, the author faces the challenge of having to create suspense in a narrative that the reader knows how it ends. The question is how they achieve it.

How does a writer create suspense in a story the reader is familiar with, without completely disregarding historical facts?

The question of Historical Accuracy

This question of historical accuracy exposes an ongoing debate in the field of historical fiction. It is a debate on whether authors of this genre should be entirely historically accurate or not. This problem is addressed by Stephanie Merritt in “How True Should Historical Fiction be?” published in The Guardian. The article underlines

(10)

the importance of a thorough research for a historical fiction writer, and the writer’s responsibility not to present falsehoods. At the same time, Merritt, a writer of

historical fiction herself, points out that fiction writers are not history teachers, and are therefore not there to educate their readers. According to her, it is completely fine for a writer of historical fiction to change facts within their narrative in order to create a better story, as long as they have done enough research to make that story credible.

She offers an example of her not minding to have a historical figure such as Abraham Lincoln portrayed as a vampire hunter, as long as it is obvious that the author

thoroughly researched his biography, and the book is well written. Merritt’s position in the debate is thus that an author of historical fiction can be historically inaccurate, if it is certain that the reader will know it to be the product of the author’s imagination.

The debate is addressed in another article, namely Jessica Brockmole’s “On

Historical Fiction: How Accurate is Accurate Enough?” She points out how important the reader’s opinion is in the matter. Some readers will want to know all the facts, and will happily go through all the footnotes, while others just want to get lost in the story, and do not care whether there are deviations from facts in the novel. As a writer of historical fiction, Brockmole offers some advice to aspiring writers of the genre on how they should deal with the accuracy issue. While she advises them to be thorough with their research, she emphasises that their main focus should be on storytelling. She suggests a balance between fact and fiction, which is definitely a good solution of the issue of accuracy.

While historical fiction writers might argue that their novels are a work of fiction, and that they are therefore allowed to change established facts for entertainment

purposes, readers can find obvious historical inaccuracies off-putting. Douglas Kemp points this issue out in “Alternative Truth: Historical Fiction: Does It Matter that We Get the Facts Right?” Kemp recalls his personal experience with the issue when he was reviewing a historical fiction book for the Historical Novel Society. He wrote that the novel in question “contains a large number of fairly clear historical anachronisms and errors which I felt devalued the pleasure of reading what is otherwise excellently plotted, paced and engaging fiction. As I read the text, rather than engaging with the fictional world created by the writer, I increasingly devoted attention to spotting the next howler, and then scurrying off to check my suspicions on Google” (Kemp par. 4).

Kemp thus shows how historical inaccuracy can make the reader constantly check if

(11)

what the author claims in their novel is factually correct or not. This then interrupts the reading, and makes it impossible for the reader to get lost in the story and enjoy it. In the article, Kempt also brings up the concern voiced by the historian John Guy.

Guy’s concern is that history students see a well-written but historically inaccurate historical novel as a reliable source. The novelist Hilary Mantel, who Guy names as an example of a successful historical fiction writer, replied that the novel needs to feature the aspects of life whose credibility cannot be researched in an archive, and for that reason, the writer needs to be creative to fill in the gaps.

Kemp continues with his arguments against historical inaccuracy by pointing out that most readers expose this problem in their reviews, and explain how “anachronisms in the text of historical fiction were profoundly annoying and did interrupt the spell that good fiction can weave between the author and the reader” (Kemp par. 9). He mentions Conn Iggulden, whose Wars of the Roses series will be analysed in this thesis, as an author who changes historical facts in order to “fit his story.”

It can be concluded that the question of historical accuracy in historical fiction is an ongoing debate with persuasive arguments on both sides of the conflict. While historical inaccuracy can be annoying even in a work of fiction, it cannot realistically be expected that the author will not fictionalise at least some aspects of their story. It is easy to understand why historians are upset when an inaccurate historical fiction novel makes its readers believe that everything written in the book happened in real life. At the same time, it is not surprising that writers of historical fiction will claim the right to use creative licence. The readers, on the other hand, do not so unanimously support one of the sides of the argument. Some readers will be bothered by even the slightest historical inaccuracy they spot, while others will simply not care and might even accept the author’s words as the absolute truth. Perhaps the first group of readers should accept that historical novels could never be completely accurate. At the same time, the second group should be made aware of the fact that parts of the story were fictionalised, and that if they are interested in the facts, they should consult a non-fiction book on the topic in question.

(12)

The Wars of the Roses in Fiction

Historical fiction is a diverse genre, which allows its readers to get absorbed in the stories taking place in hundreds of different places and historical eras. One of the most mesmerising historical events that is popular among historical fiction readers are the Wars of the Roses. In the Encyclopaedia Britannica, the Wars of the Roses are defined as “in English history, the series of dynastic civil wars whose violence and civil strife preceded the strong government of the Tudors. Fought between the houses of Lancaster and York for the English throne, the wars were named many years afterward from the supposed badges of the contending parties: the white rose of York and the red rose of Lancaster” (Encyclopaedia Britannica, Wars of the Roses).

Not only have these wars inspired historical fiction writers to create their own interpretations of the tumultuous historical event, but they have also influenced writers of other genres. It is no secret that this is where George R.R. Martin found inspiration for his famous fantasy series A Song of Ice and Fire. Within the genre of historical fiction, it is safe to say that most likely the most famous fictitious

interpretation of the Wars of the Roses is the one written by William Shakespeare.

Shakespeare wrote a series of four history plays that featured the events and characters from the Wars of the Roses. The plays were obviously a work of fiction, but throughout history, people have been deeply influenced by them, many of them taking Shakespeare’s words as fact. While Shakespeare might have consulted histories of his time such as the 1587 edition of Raphael Holinshed’s The Chronicles of England, Scotland, and Ireland, the 1550 edition of Edward Hall’s The Union of the Two Noble and Illustrious Families of Lancaster and York, and Robert Fabyan’s 1516 edition of The New Chronicles of England and France, these sources were biased.

They were all written in the times of the Tudors, and therefore glorified them while vilifying their opponents, especially Richard III. Shakespeare himself lived and wrote during the reign of Elizabeth I, and in his plays, her ancestors are all depicted as heroes. King Richard III, who Elizabeth’s grandfather Henry VII fought and defeated, is to this day known as one of Shakespeare’s greatest villains. This shows the

importance of taking into account the historical context of a literary work (C.f.

Wagner, online).

(13)

The Wars of the Roses remain a fascinating era for contemporary writers. There are many historical novels set in this period. The thesis will now focus on the three authors and analyse a few motifs found in their novels, beginning with Philippa Gregory.

Philippa Gregory

Philippa Gregory is a popular writer of historical fiction, especially among female readers. What makes her so popular could be the fact that most of her novels show history through the eyes of women, who are nowadays known as a wife, mother or sister of a certain man. On top of that, Gregory always finds a way to make her novels even more appealing to her readers, usually by creating a breath-taking romance, court rivalry and drama or even by including magic as a subplot. As the biography on her webpage states, Gregory “graduated from the University of Sussex with a degree in History, and received a PhD in 18th century literature from the University of Edinburgh” (Philippa Gregory, biography). The fact that she has a degree in history is particularly interesting, as her novels have often been labelled as historically inaccurate.

Gregory has written a number of historical novels set in different eras of the English history. Her Wars of the Roses novels used to be classified as a part of her Cousins’

War series; however, according to Goodreads, she has later decided to merge this series with her Tudor Court series into a series of fifteen books entitled The

Plantagenet and Tudor Novels. The Plantagenet part of the series consists of six books, namely The Lady of the Rivers, The White Queen, The Red Queen, The Kingmaker’s Daughter, The White Princess and The King’s Curse. The series begins in the time before the Wars of the Roses started, and ends in the early years of the Tudor reign. Since this dissertation will provide a comparison of novels that take place during the Wars of the Roses, and have the civil conflict as their central plot, only three of Gregory’s novels will be analysed later on. These novels are The White Queen, The Red Queen and The Kingmaker’s Daughter.

The White Queen is the first Wars of the Roses novel Philippa Gregory wrote. It covers the period between 1464 and 1485, and the story is narrated by Elizabeth

(14)

Woodville who went on to marry the Yorkist King Edward IV. The title of the novel refers to the fact that the symbol of the House of York was a white rose.

This was followed by the publication of The Red Queen. This novel begins its story eleven years before the start of The White Queen, but the focus remains on the Wars of the Roses. The narrator is Margaret Beaufort, the mother of Henry Tudor, later King Henry VII, who was on the side of the House of Lancaster. Because their symbol was a red rose, Margaret is referred to by Gregory in the title as the red queen.

The last of Gregory’s Wars of the Roses novels is The Kingmaker’s Daughter.

Chronologically, the novel covers the same period as The White Queen. The story is narrated by Anne Neville, who is better known in history as the wife of King Richard III. The title of this novel refers to the fact that Anne’s father was nicknamed the Kingmaker.

The influence of different first-person narrators

Philippa Gregory set her three Wars of the Roses novels roughly in the same time period (1455-1485), and there is a number of events that are covered in all three of them. What holds the reader’s interest and persuades them to read all the novels instead of just one is also the change of the first-person narrator. There is little the three protagonists have in common in terms of their personalities, and the way they perceive and narrate certain events is thus different. For example, after her marriage to King Edward, Elizabeth Woodville would see the Lancastrian King Henry as a simpleton, who is incapable or ruling. In contrast, Margaret Beaufort is a steadfast supporter of the tragic king and would describe him as a saint, and claim it is God’s will that he rule England. The reader’s perception of the three protagonists, who are also first-person narrators, may to some extent depend on the order in which a certain person reads these books. If you like the protagonist of the first book you read, you may not agree with the way they are portrayed by a different narrator, and think the new narrator does not do them justice. As most readers read books that are a part of a series chronologically based on the date of publication, they would first be acquainted with Elizabeth Woodville, then Margaret Beaufort and finally Anne Neville.

(15)

In The White Queen, Elizabeth Woodville is introduced as a young and beautiful widow whose family and deceased husband took the side of the house of Lancaster in the civil war. She, as the narrator, establishes her position already in the first sentence: “My father is Sir Richard Woodville, Baron Rivers, an English nobleman, a landholder and a supporter of the true kings of England, the Lancastrian line”

(Gregory, TWQ 3). Her support for the Lancastrians becomes even more obvious when she refers to the Yorkist king as “[…] a usurper and a tyrant […]” (Gregory, TWQ 4). Despite her strong opinions on the opposing sides in the war, everything changes for Elizabeth when she meets the Yorkist king Edward, falls in love with him and eventually marries him. After she becomes queen, the whole family changes their loyalties, and Elizabeth changes her beliefs completely.

Throughout the book, Gregory presents Elizabeth in a more or less favourable light.

She puts a strong emphasis on her heroine’s love for her family, and most of

Elizabeth’s actions are portrayed as the result of her love and a fierce wish to protect those she loves. For example, at one point her husband’s former ally, the Earl of Warwick, and Edward’s brother, George, turn against him and try to take the throne.

After the failed attempt, they plan to escape to France, and Elizabeth decides to stop them, explaining that they would otherwise continue to be a danger to her and her family. Gregory makes Elizabeth capable of action by giving her protagonist magical powers, which will be further examined later in this thesis. The queen conjures up a storm that prevents her enemies from reaching safety, and results in the death of George’s new-born child. In this instance, the reader might have sympathised with Elizabeth’s enemies if the novel had had an omniscient narrator, however the first person-narration manages to keep them on the queen’s side by Elizabeth’s constant reminding of how Warwick and George killed her father and brother.

While Gregory made the readers mostly love her fictionalised version of the medieval queen, all the opinions on her cast of characters and historical events were put to question in her next novel, The Red Queen. Here, Gregory rewrites the story of the Wars of the Roses, but chooses as the narrator a character who is in many ways Elizabeth’s polar opposite. Margaret Beaufort was introduced to the reader in The White Queen. Here, it is important to remember that every piece of information the reader got on this character came from Elizabeth, the first-person narrator. Therefore, all the information the reader has about Margaret comes from a biased source. That

(16)

being said, as The Red Queen has Margaret as the protagonist and narrator, the representation of her as a character remains biased, since as the narrator she is trying to convince the reader she is the one who is in the right.

Nevertheless, the Margaret that Gregory brings to life in The Red Queen is not as favourably presented and likeable as Elizabeth is in The White Queen. Despite the fact that they are both seen as ambitious characters, scheming and plotting to get themselves and their families into powerful positions, Margaret is portrayed as more cold and brutal than Elizabeth ever was. This can be seen in the scene where before taking his men to the Tower to help rescue Elizabeth’s two sons, her husband asks her if she wants him to have his men kill the princes instead. There is a moment of slight hesitation, but ultimately she orders the murder of the boys: “‘They will have to kill them,’ I say. My lips are cold but I have to frame the words. ‘Obviously, the boys have to die’” (Gregory, TRQ 271).

Margaret does not relish giving the order for the murder of the Princes, but she knows that for her plan to come to fruition, the boys must die. Therefore, she forces herself to say that the boys have to be disposed of. The fact that her “lips are cold”

suggests Margaret’s reluctance to give a direct order to murder the princes. It can be perceived as a physical reaction to the terrible order she gives to her husband.

Having the protagonist of the novel order such a heinous deed would hardly encourage the reader to root for them. Even though Gregory does show Margaret hesitating before finally giving her husband Stanley the order to murder, the would-be mother of the king comes across as more of an antagonist than the book’s

protagonist. In fact, one could argue that Gregory portrays her as more of a villain than a heroine. After all, every villain is the hero of their own story, and Margaret definitely sees herself as one.

Throughout the book, she tries to justify her actions by telling both the reader and herself that she is doing the will of God. She is presented as a religious fanatic who has convinced herself that everything she does is right. She has convinced herself that she believes her plans to be the will of God, so that she does not have to admit to herself that she is acting out of her own ambition and greed. The belief that she is considering a murder of children as the right thing to do makes her an even worse person. Margaret’s conviction that her deeds are justified brings to mind an interview

(17)

from The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, in which actor Adam Driver discusses his opinion on what kind of characters are evil. Driver argued that in his opinion the truly dangerous and evil characters “think that what they’re doing is morally justified, so there’s no end to what they will do to make sure whatever agenda they have is being pushed” (Driver 5:44–5:52). Personally, I agree with his statements as the people who are unwaveringly convinced that the end justifies the means and that their agenda is morally justified truly are the biggest danger to society because they will stop at nothing to achieve their goals – just like Margaret does in The Red Queen. An example of Margaret’s unyielding believe that God will tell her if she is right in her actions can be seen in the following passage where Margaret prays for a heavenly sign that would tell her whether the two princes should be spared or killed:

I go to my knees before the fire. “Our, Lady, if it is Your will that the York boys be spared then send me, Your servant, a sign. Their safety tonight cannot be a sign.

Surely, it cannot be Your will that they live? It cannot be Your will that they inherit?

I am Your obedient daughter in every way; but I cannot believe that You would have them on the throne rather than the true Lancaster heir, my son Henry.” I wait.

I wait for a long time. There is no sign. I take it to heart that there is no sign, and so the York boys should not be spared. (Gregory, TRQ 274)

This scene shows how Margaret reconciles her own ambition as being the wish of a higher force. She prays for a sign that the divine authority wants the two princes spared, and when there is no sign she immediately convinces herself that God

agrees with her plans, and that killing two young boys is excusable in his eyes. She is using the lack of a divine sign as an excuse to do what benefits her, which is a sign of bad faith as she uses it to her own advantage. She tries to make herself and the reader believe that what she knows must be done is justified, and that the deed does not make her a villain.

On top of her belief that she is doing the will of God, Gregory also shows Margaret as a huge admirer of Joan of Arc. The beginning of the novel shows young Margaret hear a story about the young French peasant girl who heard voices of angels, and did great things. Afterwards, there are multiple instances in which the narrator fancies herself as a new Maid of Orleans. This motif resurfaces throughout the story and it reminds the reader of how deeply Margaret believes in the rightness of her actions.

She thinks of her idol, even as she contemplates the murder of the York princes.

(18)

I find my praying hands are gripping one another.“God’s will,” I whisper, wishing I could feel the certainty that Joan knew when she rode out to kill or be killed, when she knew that God’s will was a hard and bloody road. But Joan did not ride against little boys, innocent boys. Joan never sent killing men into a nursery. (Gregory, TRQ 270)

Margaret sees herself as Joan of Arc, but at the same time, she acknowledges that her idol never ordered the murder of innocent children. The parallel between the two women is their quest to put the rightful King on the throne. Joan of Arc fought to free France from the English occupation, and to crown the dauphin Charles, while

Margaret spent most of her life scheming to put her son Henry Tudor on the English throne. This scene shows there was a part of Margaret that despite her strong conviction of being morally justified knew the wrongness of what she was about to do, and that she is not a heartless villain after all.

On the other hand, Margaret’s knowing her actions are wrong, but doing it anyway makes the situation even worse, because that means she is not the kind of villain who is so deeply set in her convictions she does not see the wrong of her actions. If she understands the murder of the princes is wrong, then giving the order in spite of knowing the act is not morally justified is more horrible. The book as a whole makes it difficult for the reader to sympathise with her and hope that she succeeds in her endeavours. If Gregory’s intention was to make her readers root for each of her protagonists in their respective books, she did not exactly succeed with Margaret. In contrast, it can be said she was more successful with the character of Anne Neville in The Kingmaker’s Daughter.

Provided that one read the three novels in the order of publication, the reader already got glimpses of Anne in The White Queen and The Red Queen. What Gregory

showed of her in her previous work does not immediately make the reader excited to read Anne’s story. Through the eyes of Elizabeth, she is presented as a weak and obedient pawn whose whole life is controlled by the men who surround her. This idea of Anne as being weak is subtly presented with lines such as: “His sickly wife Anne […]” (Gregory, TWQ 335). The assumption that she is an obedient pawn in her father’s hands can be made after reading the following paragraph:

(19)

“She is only fourteen and they are marrying her to a boy who was allowed to choose how to execute his enemies when he was eleven years old. He was raised to be a devil. Anne Neville must be wondering if she is rising to be Queen or falling among the damned.” (Gregory, TWQ 121)

In this scene, Elizabeth and her mother are discussing Anne’s betrothal to Edward of Lancaster. Anne’s future is presented as black and white. Elizabeth and her mother bring up one negative example about Anne’s betrothed, and from that comment alone, the reader is meant to conclude that he is a villain. The fact that she is to be married to a man said to be cruel implies that Anne had no choice in the matter, and that she is forced to obey Warwick. Of course, an arranged marriage was the norm in the 15th century, especially among the nobility. It would thus be historically

inaccurate if Anne refused the marriage.

With this description in mind, one hardly expects an enticing read. In The

Kingmaker’s Daughter, however, Gregory gave her protagonist as much ambition and strength as she did to her others heroines. Anne starts the story as an innocent and naïve girl who is due to consequences of her father’s actions soon forced to grow up quickly. Out of the three protagonists that Gregory presents, Anne is definitely the one who undergoes the most obvious character development, and changes the most in the course of the story, which makes her a more interesting character.

In the beginning, she is a little girl whose father is the most important man in

England, and she believes in her father and that everything would always be perfect for her. Her situation quickly changes when her father Warwick turns against the king and the family falls out of favour. At this point in the book, the reader sees that the weak, helpless Anne they know from the previous novels can well think with her own head, and have opinions that are her own and might clash with the beliefs of those who control her life. A proof of this can be seen in the chapter that takes place after Warwick’s failed rebellion in which he killed Elizabeth’s father and brother:

But still, I cannot see the queen as my enemy, because I cannot rid myself of the sense that she is in the right and we are in the wrong, and that her visible

contempt for me and my sister has been earned by my father. I cannot be angry, I am too ashamed. […] I am the daughter of her enemy and the murderer of her

(20)

father and brother. And I am sorry, deeply sorry for all that has happened […].

(Gregory, TKD 59)

Anne is incapable of feeling angry with Elizabeth for the unkind way she treated her and her sister. The verb “earned” implies that Warwick in wronging the Queen by killing her father and brother brought about the Queen’s contempt for himself and his entire family. From this passage, the reader can also deduce that Anne is a good person, who knows the right from wrong, and is capable of admitting to herself when she or her family are in the wrong. This makes her a likeable protagonist that the reader can root for.

Through Anne’s story, Gregory also shows how circumstances and events that cannot be predicted or controlled can change a person. Anne believes that Elizabeth is indirectly responsible for the deaths of her father and sister, which hardens her heart and makes her hate the Queen. This supposition can be seen in the

conversation she has with her husband Richard after she finds out that her sister died:

“If George’s accusations are true, then she plans to kill me. If this is true then she is my mortal enemy and we are living in her palace and dining on her food that comes from her kitchen. See – I am not making accusations, and I am not crying.

But I am going to protect me and mine, and I will see her pay for the death of my sister.” (Gregory, TKD 286–287)

Anne is convinced that Elizabeth had her sister poisoned, and that she plans to have her killed as well in order to avenge the murders of her father and brother by

exterminating Warwick and both his daughters. She wants justice for the alleged murder of her sister by Elizabeth’s hand.

Even though Anne wants retribution for her sister’s death, the reader can sympathise with her, as she believes herself and her family to be in danger. She gets the chance for retribution later in the book when she finds out that Edward’s heirs might not be legitimate, and she persuades her husband to take the throne that should go to his nephew for himself.

I think of my father who killed his great horse and then lost his own life fighting the battle to put me on the throne of England. I think of Elizabeth Woodville, who has

(21)

been the bane of my days and the murderer of my sister [...] I go to him and take his hand. It is as if we were handfasted, plighting our troth one more. I find I am smiling and I can feel my cheeks are warm. In this moment of decision I am indeed my father’s daughter. “This is your destiny,” I tell him, and I can hear my own voice ringing with certainty. “By birth, by inclination, and by education, you are the best king that England could have in these times. Do it, Richard. Take your chance. It is my birthright as it is yours. Let is take it. Let us take it together.” (Gregory, TKD 364–365)

Anne sees an opportunity to both get her vengeance by taking Elizabeth’s crown, and achieve her father’s goal of putting one of his daughters on the throne. She compares her and Richard’s potential coronation to their wedding when she says that this moment is “as if we were handfasted, plighting our troth one more.” Anne views a potential decision to rule together as a parallel to the vows they made when they were married. Merriam-Webster defines “handfasted” as “an irregular or probationary marriage contracted by joining hands and agreeing to live together as man and wife.”

In this scene Anne taking Richard’s hand when she is convincing him to let them take the throne, symbolises their marriage. “Birthright” is important to her. If Edward’s sons are illegitimate, then Richard is the rightful heir. She also believes it is her

“birthright” as well, as she is also a descendant of royalty, unlike the current Queen Elizabeth, who was a commoner before she married Edward.

Moreover, it seems as if Anne believes that her becoming queen would mean her father did not die in vain and that at least a part of her shares her father’s ambitions.

She even calls herself “my father’s daughter” when she proceeds to convince Richard to crown himself. Her hatred for Elizabeth also plays a big part in her

decision to try to stop her family from ruling. This less positive behaviour shows that Anne, just like everyone else has flaws, which makes her more realistic, as well as establishes her as a round character and not a flat one. James Wood talked about E.M. Forster’s definition of a flat character in his work How Fiction Works. According to Forster a “flat” character is “awarded a single, essential attribute, which is repeated without change as the person appears and reappears in a novel” (qtd. in Wood 98).

Wood describes Forster’s view of “flat” characters as “snobbish,” claiming that

“‘Roundness’ is impossible in fiction, because fictional characters, while very alive in their way, are not the same as real people [...]” (Wood 99). Wood also points out how

(22)

many characters considered as “flat” by Forster’s standards are actually the most interesting ones. Taking Wood’s theory into account, Anne being an interesting character would not be due to her being a “round” character as opposed to a “flat”

one.

If we move back to the different points of view, telling the same story from the point of view of three characters is challenging. As a reader, you are exposed to three

different accounts of the same characters, and it makes it difficult for you to form an educated opinion on the three protagonists. The White Queen makes you favour Elizabeth, The Kingmaker’s Daughter would have you prefer Anne and The Red Queen makes you ponder what to make of Margaret. All the while, you have to keep in mind that all three narrators are biased, and everything you find out from them are not facts but merely their opinions. What you as a reader can do is consider this knowledge, and decide for yourself which one of the three narrators you like the most. In the end, it comes to what character you relate to and understand the most, and this is the character you find yourself rooting for.

Each of the three narrators makes a convincing case, which makes the reader realise just how complicated history is. In “Philosophy of History,” Daniel Little said:

“Historical data do not speak for themselves; archives are incomplete, ambiguous, contradictory, and confusing. The historian needs to interpret individual pieces of evidence; and he or she needs to be able to somehow fit the mass of evidence into a coherent and truthful story.” There is always some kind of bias present, and it is important to keep this knowledge in mind in order not to judge, and to understand how difficult it is to get an accurate account of history.

The first-person narration, while more biased than the third-person narration, allows you to better connect with the main character, and it emphasises the fact that they are the protagonist and that you are reading their story. One can therefore conclude that it has both advantages and disadvantages. Moving forward, the thesis will now discuss female main characters for female audience.

(23)

Female main characters in a series for female audience

It has been established that Philippa Gregory is an author, who takes women as her main characters and first-person narrators. Thus, one might ask how this influences the story. Gregory’s story obviously takes place during the Wars of the Roses, so going into her series one would expect some of the plot to focus on battles. However, since all three books are narrated by a female character who certainly did not take part in any of the battles, Gregory had to find a different way of including warfare into her novels.

In The White Queen, Gregory included a chapter on the Battle of Barnet, which took place after Edward returned from exile in 1471. Elizabeth’s husband king Edward is fighting against his former ally, Anne’s father Warwick. Gregory shifts between Elizabeth’s first-person narration and the third-person narration. She adds a description of men in Edward’s camp preparing for the battle and records their

conversation without providing any information about what is going on in their heads.

She then shifts to Elizabeth, who is in sanctuary and engages herself in some magic.

She conjures up mist to hide Edward’s army from the enemy and thus assists him.

After showing Elizabeth’s secret involvement in the battle, Gregory goes back to the third-person narration and provides the reader with a description of the battle.

Gregory then goes back to the first-person narration and the reader once again follows Elizabeth’s point of view.

The choice of the point of view and various perspectives on the same event is an important decision that influences the reader’s reception. In The Art of Fiction, David Lodge discusses the use of different points of view in fiction. He explains that while a novel can provide different perspectives on the same event, “it will usually privilege just one or two of the possible “points of view” from which the story could be told, and concentrate on how events affect them.” He argues that the choice of whose point of view the story is told “affects the way readers will respond, emotionally and morally, to the fictional characters and their actions” (Lodge 26).

If one takes this theory and applies it to Philippa Gregory’s Wars of the Roses novels, one sees how the theory works in practice. What the reader has is one event, in this case the Wars of the Roses, narrated by three different characters. The choice of the

(24)

narrator affects the reader’s response to the actions of a certain character. For example, Gregory provided the account of Warwick’s escape from England during a storm from Elizabeth and Anne’s point of view. In The White Queen, the reader feels Elizabeth’s pain caused by the death of her father, and can thus sympathise with her decision to cast a storm that complicates Warwick’s escape, and results in Isabel and George’s child being stillborn. Then, in The Kingmaker’s Daughter, the reader is faced with Anne’s heart-breaking account of trying to survive the storm on the ship, and the grief that the whole family faced due to the baby’s death. The same event in Anne’s point of view makes the reader less sympathetic towards Elizabeth.

In The Kingmaker’s Daughter, Gregory spends some time on the battle of

Tewkesbury, as the result of this battle was important for Anne’s storyline. This time she keeps Anne as the narrator, and has the reader find out about the battle by having a man who fought in it describe it to Anne. She has Anne find out about the outcome of the battle of Barnet in the same manner. It makes sense that Gregory did not decide to spend more time talking about this battle, since she had already written about it in detail in The White Queen. Therefore, the reader is familiar with the event, and does not need to be reminded of it again. That is, if they happened to read The White Queen before.

Finally, in The Red Queen, Gregory spends some more time than she had before on the battle of Bosworth. Her decision to write about this battle in particular is

understandable, since its outcome is the goal that Margaret planned and schemed for her whole life. Here, Gregory repeats the narrative style she used in The White Queen, and uses the third-person narration. This time, however, the narration does not shift between the two narrative techniques. The narration changes from

Margaret’s point of view, and the book provides descriptions of what was happening in the two opposing war camps in the days leading to the battle. This is followed by Gregory’s theory of how the battle went and its outcome. Afterwards, Margaret resumes the narration, and the reader experiences her thoughts and feelings on the greatest victory of her life.

The difference between the third-person narration in this part of the novel and the first-person narration in the rest of the book lies mostly in the lack of personal feelings. When Margaret is narrating, the reader can perceive how she feels about whatever situation or event she is talking about. The third-person narration of the

(25)

battle is merely a description of what is happening on the battlefield. The bias is still present, as Gregory is writing a fictional account of a battle she did not witness, and therefore cannot be accurate, but the first-person narrator bias is not present.

Nonetheless, despite the third-person narration it cannot be said that there is no bias at all present. After all, even history books that one would expect to be impartial are guilty of bias, as they sometimes cater to the government, or in the past, to the monarch.

Overall, for a series that takes place during a war, Gregory does not spend much time on actual warfare. Since her focus was always going to be on the female characters, that should not be a big surprise. Realistically speaking, the female

narration makes it difficult to spend much time on plotlines such as military battles, as historically women were not present in battles, and Gregory probably did not want to take creative licence, and include female warriors. In those times, women were not allowed to be warriors or to govern, so one could consider whether there would have been this many wars if women were in charge. In Reith lectures on War and

Humanity, Margaret MacMillan argues that she does not think so, as women are just as bloodthirsty as men are, and were historically often publically supporting the war.

MacMillan supports her statement with the example of Bismarck’s wife who said she would have liked to shoot down the French, including children.

Looking forward, it is time to discuss another prominent theme. If you take into consideration the target audience, as well as the female narrators, it is not surprising that Gregory consecrated a big part of her novels to romance. While it cannot be assumed that all women enjoy romance in books, the majority of romance novels readers are women. In “Who Is the Romance Novel Reader?” by Maya Rodale, published online at Huffpost, the author shares the results of a survey from Romance Writers of America. According to the survey, 84 percent of romance readers are women and 16 percent are men. (Cf. Rodale, online) Admittedly, if you think about it romance is present at least as a subplot in most of the books classified as fiction.

With an author like Philippa Gregory, it is not surprising that romance is in most of her novels an important part of the plot. Although one could argue that in this particular series she sometimes spends too much time on romance. The inclusion of romance is not an issue, but since Gregory’s books do not belong to the romance genre, the amount of romance in them can irk some readers.

(26)

The Romance Writers of America came up with the following definition of the

romance genre: “Two basic elements comprise every romance novel: a central love story and an emotionally satisfying and optimistic ending.” Some readers look down on the genre precisely because of the mandatory optimistic ending, since they argue it is not realistic. While Philippa Gregory’s novels contain romance, it is by no means the main plot. The element of the central love story is explained as: “The main plot centers around individuals falling in love and struggling to make the relationship work.

A writer can include as many subplots as he/she wants as long as the love story is the main focus of the novel.” In Gregory’s case, the love story is just one of the subplots, and thus her novels cannot be classified solely as romance. Moreover, the romance genre requires a happy ending, and as Gregory is writing about historical figures she could not give one to her couples.

Since Gregory writes a fictional account of the lives of people who existed in real life, she had to stay true to historical facts at least to some extent, when planning her romance subplots. Because of that, some of her romances are both historically accurate and they make sense within the fictionalised story she writes. At the same time, there are also a few romances in this series that can be described as

unnecessary.

The one romance that is at the same time important from the historical point of view and for the progression of the book as a work of fiction is the one between Elizabeth Woodville and Edward IV. The romantic relationship between these two characters sets into motion the events that move the plot in the historically accurate direction.

The York king marrying a destitute Lancastrian widow was the reason why his ally Warwick turned against him, which then brought about Edward’s exile and it

influenced the direction the civil war took. It is thus a subplot that Gregory would have had to include, even if she had been writing a more serious novel for a less specific audience. Moreover, despite the fact that Elizabeth and Edward’s love story is an important part of the story, Gregory did not sacrifice other plotlines for the sake of their romance. She found a good balance between the romance and other plotlines, such as the political situation, scheming courtiers and warfare. This balance of various plotlines makes the novel a more enticing read, as the reader experiences a number of different plotlines.

(27)

In The Kingmaker’s Daughter, Gregory developed a romance between Anne and her second husband Richard of Gloucester, later Richard III. Unlike Shakespeare,

Gregory portrayed Richard as a dashing, loyal and chivalrous brother to the king, and not the villainous hunchback plotting the murder of his entire family from the start of the book. Shakespeare was writing for the Tudors, and had thus portrayed Richard as the villain. Nowadays, however, many people seem to have taken an interest in restoring Richard III. The Richard III Society was founded in 1924, and as it says on their web page, its goal is “to promote, in every possible way, research into the life and times of Richard III, and to secure a reassessment of the material relating to this period, and of the role of this monarch in history” (The Richard III Society).

As far as the plot goes, Gregory showing Anne and Richard’s marriage as a love match makes sense, even though historically it could have been more of a mutually beneficial arrangement. Once again, Gregory makes sure the love story is not the central plot, but rather an enticing subplot.

If there is one book in this series where Gregory could have easily forgone romance in the life of the protagonist, it is The Red Queen. Margaret as a character never strikes you as someone who values the idea of romantic love in the slightest. She is presented as a strong ambitious woman whose greatest desire is to be queen, and every single thing she does throughout the novel is so she can put her son on the throne. Therefore, Gregory’s decision to have Margaret be secretly in love with her dead husband’s brother is superfluous. It is neither a plotline she had to include due to historical evidence, nor one that would make the overall plot more interesting.

Philippa Gregory as an author tends to incorporate romance in her novels to a great extent. As one can see in the previous few paragraphs, sometimes romance is a necessary and important plotline, while there are also examples from her novels where the story would work just fine without it, such as Gregory suggesting in The Red Queen there were romantic feelings between Margaret and her brother-in-law.

The thesis will now look into the theme of magic in Philippa Gregory’s novels.

(28)

Magic as a subplot

When reading a historical fiction novel that has for its characters real life historical figures, one does not usually expect to encounter fantasy elements, as the novel is based on real events, and takes place in our world. The reader would thus expect such a historical fiction novel to be realistic. Philippa Gregory, nevertheless, included the element of magic as an important subplot in her series. The element of magic is constantly present throughout each of the three novels discussed in this thesis. From the historical point of view, it is not far-fetched to assume that characters in a novel set in medieval Europe would believe in magic and witches. Jennifer Farrell, a Lecturer in Medieval History at the University of Exeter, addressed the topic of witches in medieval Europe in “The Evolution of the Medieval Witch – and why she’s usually a woman.” She talks about how witchcraft was mostly associated with

women: “While men also feature in the infamous 15th century witch-hunting manual Malleus Maleficarum (The Hammer of the Witches), the work has long been

recognised as deeply misogynistic. It suggests that women’s perceived lack of intelligence made them submissive to demons.” It is thus not surprising that Gregory only gave magical powers to some of her female characters. She makes her

fictionalised version of Elizabeth Woodville undoubtedly be a witch, and this subplot influences the whole story to a great extent, as Elizabeth’s curses move the plot along.

The reader can already assume that magic will be an important subplot in The White Queen, when they read the first page. Elizabeth offers this piece of information when she informs the reader who her mother is:

My mother descends from the Dukes of Burgundy and so carries the watery blood of the goddess Melusina, who founded their royal house with her entranced ducal lover, and can still be met at times of extreme trouble, crying a warning over the castle rooftops when the son and heir is dying and the family doomed. (Gregory, TWQ 3)

Elizabeth claims to be a descendant of a water goddess, and explains that the goddess gives a warning whenever one of her male descendants is dying. This passage thus hints that the element of magic will be present in the story at least to

(29)

some extent. On top of that, once the reader gets to a certain part of the book, the magic can also be seen as foreshadowing of one of the most important subplots in the novel. The subplot in question is the story of the Princes in the Tower, which will be discussed more in depth later on.

Out of the three novels, only The White Queen presents instances of witchcraft. In The Red Queen and The Kingmaker’s Daughter, magic is only visible in the form of speculation. This arrangement is perfectly understandable, as out of the three narrators Elizabeth is the only one that possesses extraordinary powers. Gregory’s decision to include a literary element usually found in fantasy novels is interesting, especially since she is writing about a historical figure. However, she skilfully wove the fantastical element into the plot, so that from the literary point of view the magic makes sense within the story.

An example of Elizabeth’s witchcraft was mentioned earlier. The example is her conjuring up a storm that prevents Warwick and George from reaching Calais after their failed rebellion. This was not the first time the queen tried orchestrating their demise. After the deaths of her father and brother for which Warwick and George are responsible, she writes their names in blood on a piece of parchment, thus cursing them to die at her will.

In my jewellery box is a dark locket of black tarnished silver and inside it, locked in the darkness, I have his name: Richard Neville, and that of George, Duke of Clarence, written in my blood on the piece of paper from the corner of my father’s last letter. These are my enemies. I have cursed them. I will see them dead at my feet. (Gregory, TWQ 108)

It is clear from the last line that Elizabeth believes without a doubt that her curses work, and are not just empty threats uttered by a woman desperate for revenge. The sentences “These are my enemies. I have cursed them. I will see them dead at my feet” emphasise her conviction that she will see Warwick and George die, and it is going to be her doing. Gregory used short sentences, which have a bigger impact on the reader. They are matter-of-factly, and invite no argument. It sounds like Elizabeth is merely stating facts. Because Elizabeth is so certain that her curses work, the reader believes it too. When Warwick and George eventually die, Warwick in battle and George executed for treason, she is convinced that the real reason for their

(30)

deaths is her curse. As a reader, it does not necessarily strike you as plausible, but this is Gregory’s novelistic invention of history, and creative licence allows her to add fantastical elements to her novel. Since she is writing about historical figures there are limits regarding the amount of fantastical elements she can include in the book.

The inclusion of Elizabeth’s magic does not irk enough to cause the reader to refuse to finish the book. If, however, Gregory included faeries or vampires to her series the readers would label the series as completely unrealistic.

This example also shows how Gregory explained historical events, in this case Warwick and George’s deaths, as a result of Elizabeth’s magical powers. It is by no means a onetime occurrence. It was mentioned earlier how the queen used her magic to influence the result of her husband’s battle. On top of that, she continued cursing people who she perceived as her enemies. When her deceased husband’s younger brother Richard seems to decide to take the crown for himself, instead of crowning Elizabeth’s son, she once again resorts to magic and curses, and curses his sword arm, so that he would be vulnerable in battle. The act of cursing is described in the following scene:

I twist the material into a cord and I tie it round my right arm so tightly that I can feel the arm ache. I go to bed and in the morning the white flesh of my arm is blue with a bruise and my fingers are prickly with pins and needles. I can feel the arm ache and, as I untie it, I moan with the pain. I feel the weakness in my arm as I throw the cord into the fire. “So weaken,” I say to the flame. “Lose your strength.

Let your right arm fail, let your sword arm grow weak, let your hand lose its grip.

Take one breath and feel it catch in your chest. Take another and feel choked.

Sicken and weary. And burn up like this.” The cord flares in the fireplace and I watch it burn away. (Gregory, TWQ 288)

Since Richard historically dies in battle, Elizabeth cursing his sword arm to make him weak is a clever idea to include in the story. It makes sense in terms of carrying a fictional plot, although seeing that the novel is based on real life events might make the whole curse subplot seem silly and hard to believe.

As can be seen, magic is a frequently employed subplot in Gregory’s Wars of the Roses novels, and one of Elizabeth’s curses is not only relevant in the three novels discussed in this thesis, but also in all the subsequent books in the series. After

(31)

Edward’s death, his brother Richard becomes the lord protector, and Edward and Elizabeth’s sons are taken to the Tower. They soon disappear without a trace, and Elizabeth is convinced the two boys were killed. She does not know who the

murderer is, so she and her eldest daughter Elizabeth curse whoever has done the deed to see their heirs suffer a similar fate. They write the curse on a piece of paper and read it to their magical ancestor, Melusina, who Elizabeth believes will avenge them. Gregory provides a detailed description of the scene but the most important part is the following:

Know this: that there is no justice to be had for the wrong that someone has done to us, so we come to you, our Lady Mother, and we put into your dark depths this curse: that whoever took our firstborn son from us, that you take his firstborn son from him. Our boy was taken when he was not yet a man, not yet a king – though he was born to be both. So take his murderer’s son while he is yet a boy, before he is a man, before he comes to his estate. And then take his grandson too, and when you take him, we will know by his death that this is the working of our curse and this is payment for the loss of our son. (Gregory, TWQ 365–366)

With this curse, Elizabeth once again showed her deep belief in the “an eye for an eye” mentality, which was a common mind set in the medieval times. Merriam- Webster defines “medieval” as “something extremely outmoded or antiquated.”

Elizabeth’s way of thinking is definitely outdated in the eyes of a modern reader who would see her as merciless and cruel. Her son and heir was allegedly murdered, so she wants the same fate for the unknown murderer’s son and heir. This scene is another example of the importance Elizabeth puts on her supernatural powers, but at the same time, it also makes the reader question her character. Some readers might find the protagonist’s actions cruel, since she is sentencing to death someone as innocent as her son was in order to get her justice. Other readers might find her actions justifiable, and support her decision to avenge herself and her family. I think the situation is not black and white, and that you can understand her pain and wish for revenge, while also recognise that in her grief she is harming an innocent human.

The question one might ask is the reason behind Gregory’s decision to include a supernatural subplot in her historical fiction series. As all her characters are based on historical figures, portraying one of the protagonists as a witch is not something the readers would expect. However, what Gregory is writing is a work of fiction and not a

(32)

history textbook, so she is allowed to include whatever literary elements she deems beneficial to the progression of the story she is telling. Magic might make the novel seem more appealing to the readers who want to get lost in a fictional world they enter by reading the book. At the same time, it reminds them that although the characters in the book existed in the real world in the past, what they read is pure fiction. If a historical fiction novel is too realistic, the readers might take it as a completely accurate account of the historical event it describes. In “The lying art of historical fiction” published in The Guardian, James Forrester writes about the dangers of historical fiction, and names the film Braveheart as an example.

My particular favourite historical error appears at the end of Braveheart, where it is suggested that the future Edward III (born in 1312) was the product of a union between the Scottish rebel William Wallace (executed in London in 1305) and Princess Isabella of France, who was nine at the time of Wallace's death. It would be funny – if I had not met so many people who believed it.

This is an example of historical inaccuracy that could easily be recognised as such, if the person watching the film would do a quick internet search. However, if a film, or in our case, a novel is credible then the reader might be tempted to believe in

everything written in the novel in question. The trust in a historical fiction novel causes misinformation about a certain historical event or figure, which is not appreciated by the historians.

The fact that Gregory included a fantasy subplot makes it easier to realise that everything she wrote in the novel is merely her interpretation of history, and it did not necessarily happen to the characters in real life. Even plotlines that seem realistic enough that they might have happened. If the reader realises that what they are reading is merely a fictional interpretation of history, they might be in turn inclined to learn about a specific historical era from reliable sources.

It is also possible that Gregory decided to give Elizabeth magical powers in order to make her character more active as a female protagonist of a novel set in the time ruled by men. Her magic allows her to assist her husband with the battle. Her magic makes it possible for her to curse her enemies and be their damnation. Readers tend to prefer a protagonist who is active, powerful and takes things into their own hands.

Elizabeth’s magic allows her to do just that, but since neither Margaret nor Anne have

(33)

any supernatural abilities, and still manage to come across as the heroines of their own story, Elizabeth could also be a compelling and powerful protagonist without her magic.

As far as the plot is concerned, Gregory made the magic as a subplot compelling and believable. It is believable in the sense of magic being a cause for an event, and the reader could see how it connects to historical facts. For example, Elizabeth curses the murderer of her son. The curse says that their heirs would die young. Margaret is one of the suspects, and historically her grandson and great-grandson both die before reaching adulthood. Thus, the reader can make a connection between

Elizabeth’s curse and the Tudor Dynasty ending due to the death of male heirs. As a literary device, it contributes to the plot, and if the reader does not think too much about the real historical figures the characters represent, they might not be too annoyed by it. The reason someone would get annoyed is that they might revere a certain historical figure, and an unfavourable interpretation of them in historical fiction would cause anger. As has been seen, magic is an interesting theme to include in a novel. The thesis will now move to perhaps the most fascinating theme in the series:

the Princes in the Tower.

The Princes in the Tower

The importance of accuracy in historical fiction novels, and how authors should try to remain as truthful as possible to established facts made by historians has already been examined in this thesis. For example, in “The Truth is Better than Fiction:

Accuracy in Historical Fiction” Kristen McQuinn writes about the importance of accuracy in the historical fiction genre. There are, however, mysteries regarding historical events that will never be solved, and all we have are speculations and conspiracy theories. In her Wars of the Roses books, Philippa Gregory wrote about one of the biggest mysteries in the English history: the Princes in the Tower. As this is a mystery that historians have never been able to solve, Gregory was free to let her imagination run wild, and provide her own version of what happened to the two princes.

(34)

In The White Queen, Gregory shows Elizabeth Woodville, who is in sanctuary after the death of her husband, reluctant to hand over her youngest son to Richard after he had taken her elder son and heir to the Tower. She has no choice but to comply.

She sends her real son to Flanders, and has a pageboy delivered to the Tower instead. Since Elizabeth has always been portrayed as someone who puts her family first and would do everything in her power to protect them, Gregory’s plot twist makes sense in the story. A mother as fiercely protective as Elizabeth would do everything to keep her children safe, and that is exactly what she does. It also goes hand in hand with her ambitious personality. If her son and heir is taken from her influence, she has her other son safely hidden and in her power. Elizabeth has to hand her son over, and the reader sees the measures she took, so that no one could tell the boy is actually a changeling:

Elizabeth comes back with the changeling pageboy. He is in my Richard’s clothes, a scarf tied round his throat, muffling the lower part of his face. When I hold him to me, he even smells of my own boy… I take him by the hand and I lead him to the cardinal. He has seen Richard at court, at a distance, and this boy is hidden by the jewelled cap on his head and the flannel round his throat and his jaw. (Gregory, TWQ 305)

In this scene, Gregory lets her imagination take over, and provides her own personal theory of what happened. Historically, there was a young man during the reign of Henry VII, who claimed to have been, one of the Princes in the Tower. Therefore, Gregory in the novel decided to have this man truly be the younger prince, and she provided an explanation as to how he disappeared and did not die like his older brother. This is a good example of how the lack of historical certainty allows writers to come up with their own explanations in fiction.

The biggest mystery about this situation is what actually happened to the two boys who were one day seen playing outside the Tower of London, and then disappeared from the face of the Earth. As the mystery was never uncovered, and all that remains are speculations that cannot be proved, historical fiction writers must once again come up with their own theories. In a blog post titled “Are historical novels

‘speculative fiction’?” Jane Wiseman discusses if historical novels are speculative fiction. She states that “historical fiction projects us into a past we can never actually recover but, through speculative manipulation of historical documents and

Reference

POVEZANI DOKUMENTI

Among many mag- azines in the field of management DRMJ Journal is slowly gaining its place with a clear focus on theo- retical and practical perspectives on (dynamic) rela-

The goal of the research: after adaptation of the model of integration of intercultural compe- tence in the processes of enterprise international- ization, to prepare the

Such criteria are the success of the managed enterprises (e.g. profitabil- ity, social responsibility) as we claim that it is the ut- most responsibility of managers; the attainment

Within the empirical part, the author conducts research and discusses management within Slovenian enterprises: how much of Slovenian managers’ time is devoted to manage

The research attempts to reveal which type of organisational culture is present within the enterprise, and whether the culture influences successful business performance.. Therefore,

– Traditional language training education, in which the language of in- struction is Hungarian; instruction of the minority language and litera- ture shall be conducted within

The article focuses on how Covid-19, its consequences and the respective measures (e.g. border closure in the spring of 2020 that prevented cross-border contacts and cooperation

We analyze how six political parties, currently represented in the National Assembly of the Republic of Slovenia (Party of Modern Centre, Slovenian Democratic Party, Democratic