The Red Queen

The Year is 1453. Margaret Beaufort is certain that she has been specially selected by God for a great purpose. Margaret believes she will be England’s Joan of Arc. But at age twelve she is married off to her cousin, Edmund Tudor. When she gives birth to her first child at age thirteen, she is already a widow. She is married twice more to two very different men, one a gentle pacifist and the other a duplicitous, ambitious schemer. Through it all Margaret is still certain she is marked for greatness. Sure that she is special in the eyes of God, she channels her aspirations into her son, who is an heir to the throne. She sees herself as holy, but the truth is she is just as ruthless and ambitious as all of the other deceitful, conniving royals. With the War of the Roses raging, the Lancaster and York heirs are dropping like flies, and Margaret’s dreams of being the “My Lady, The King’s Mother” draw nearer and nearer to reality.

I’m a fan of Phillipa Gregory because I love history, and historical fiction feels like experiencing history firsthand. I have read a bit about the author, and I have tremendous respect for the amount of research she does. I really enjoyed The White Queen; I learned about a queen that I never even knew existed, and I found the tale of The Princes in The Tower especially intriguing. It was hard to believe I had never heard that story before. I’ve read at least ten historical novels by Phillipa Gregory, and The Red Queen is by far my least favorite. The fault lies in the chosen subject rather than the writing. There are strong romantic storylines in all of the Tudor court novels and in The White Queen as well. Sometimes the romances are gentle and sweet. More often they are wild and lustful, but they are romantic. Margaret Beaufort (the way Gregory depicted her) did not have a romantic bone in her body. Well, there are some half-hearted romantic moments between Margaret and Jasper Tudor, but not nearly enough to drive the story onward. Margaret took a vow of celibacy later in life, so I suppose it makes sense that her character wouldn’t be interested in romantic love. Most of the excitement in this novel is generated by the appalling plotting and backstabbing that the royal family was constantly engaged in.

I have to say that Henry VII’s mother has to be one of the most unlikeable characters Gregory has ever written about, and she has written about some pretty despicable people. The difference is that those other despicable people had a weakness, and it was usually something to do with love. Margaret professes that the great love of her life is God, but she is written in such a way that one has a very hard time believing in her spirituality. Truly, her devotion is mostly to herself and her own pursuits. One character does call her out on this, but it’s very late in the story, and the accusation rolls off of Margaret like water off a duck’s back. Margaret is the narrator for most of the novel, and she became very tiresome. I felt as if I were putting up with her just to find out how her son’s story played out. It was like sitting next to someone really talkative, opinionated and obnoxious for the last few minutes of a very close Super Bowl. You can’t leave because you want to see the end of the game, but GOSH she’s annoying! Gregory clearly set out to write Margaret as an irritating character, and she did that very well. But if I’m going to spend a whole book with a character I would like them to have at least some redeeming qualities.

Thank goodness there were other characters in the story that interested me. I would have enjoyed the story much more if Gregory would have alternated narrators like she did in The Boleyn Inheritance. I was particularly captivated by Elizabeth of York, Margaret’s future daughter-in-law. I think it’s very possible that Gregory might write a story from her perspective one day, and I really hope that she does. The way she portrays all of the Woodville/Rivers women is absolutely fabulous. They are these ethereal beings drifting through a world of grit and gore, seemingly charmed and impervious. I love that Gregory gives some credence to the rumors of witchcraft or magic in the family. It’s something you don’t usually find in historic fiction. It’s a special treat to get a little fantasy mixed in with my history lesson. And the water imagery she uses when describing the Rivers women is so beautiful:

Next to her is a most beautiful woman, perhaps the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She is wearing a gown of blue with a silver thread running through, which makes it shimmer like water. You would think her a scaled fish. She sees me staring at her, and she smiles back at me, which makes her face light up with a warm beauty like sunlight on water on a summer’s day.

I wouldn’t recommend this book to anyone unless they are already a Gregory fan or are very interested in the period of history surrounding the rise and fall of Richard III. The Red Queen will not keep me from being a fan of Phillipa Gregory. The book was enlightening in its own way. I was a little disappointed that she chose such a wet blanket for her main character this time, but I eagerly await her next novel about the English royal families.