Skip to main content

The Other Boleyn Girl by Phillipa Gregory: A review

I've only read one other book by Philippa Gregory. It was Wideacre and it was truly awful, so I approached the reading of this book hesitantly and with trepidation. But people who know my taste kept telling me that it was just my cup of tea so I steeled myself and gave it a try. The verdict? Not bad.

The story of the infamous Boleyn family is almost too well-known to require summarizing here. Over the last couple of years, I've read a number of books, both fiction and non-fiction, that were set in the Tudor era - books such as Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel, the Matthew Shardlake series by C.J. Sansom, and The Lady in the Tower by Alison Weir - and that included the Boleyns as characters, but this book provides another slant, another viewpoint of the familiar story.

The other Boleyn girl is Mary, the younger of the two sisters. Her ambitious family marries her off at twelve to a promising young courtier. She becomes a lady-in-waiting to Queen Katherine and, inevitably, catches the wandering eye of King Henry VIII. The Boleyns encourage the king's interest and constantly push Mary forward in hopes of gaining power and influence through her relationship with the king. And, very soon, there is indeed a relationship, a relationship quickly consummated. Over the next four years, she bears him two children, first a daughter whom she names Catherine as an homage to the queen and then a son named Henry.

Meanwhile, the older Boleyn daughter, Anne, has returned from her years of "education" in France and becomes a regular at court and soon eclipses the quieter Mary. The king lusts after her, but she will not yield to him. She holds out for marriage, but that, of course, would mean setting aside the queen and annulling the king's marriage, making his only legitimate child, the Princess Mary, a bastard. Just a minor detail as far as Anne is concerned!

The story is told from the perspective of Mary. In this telling, the three Boleyn children, Anne, Mary, and George, are close. There is an "Us against the world!" mentality. Mary's narrative portrays herself and George as relatively innocent victims of the family's cutthroat ambitions, while Anne is fully complicit. But in the end, even Mary begins to suspect the depth of corruption which has grown up in the circle presided over by her sister, now queen, Anne.

The first two-thirds of this book, I thought, were fascinating, and the story well-told. The last third descended somewhat into the realm of the Harlequin romance (Not that there is anything wrong with that!) as it concentrated on Mary's falling in love and marrying for love and ultimately her and her children's survival of the carnage which befell her family. Overall, though, it was an interesting telling of a story which has never lost its evergreen quality, even after 600 years.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters!  Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...