Eliza Knight

How can an author be inspired by a Golden Age celebrity with the talent, vivacity and choice vocabulary of Adele Astaire, older sister of Fred, and create such a flat fictionalisation? It shouldn't be technically possible, especially after the author apparently researched her subject so thoroughly, yet here we are.

The first person narrative is awkwardly expositional - who talks about themselves like a Wikipedia article ('From my personal attempts to balance ambition with insecurity, glamour show more with grit, I knew that nothing was ever as perfectly put together as it seemed') - and the author seemingly doesn't trust her readers' intellect, explaining where the nickname 'Delly' came from and how the tabloids coined the term 'Astairia' ('a combination of our surnames with hysteria'). Adele herself is full of adjectives but lifeless, despite telling her own story, and her relationship with her brother is creepy (they really did play as lovers). I can't forgive the author for stating that Adele can 'cuss like a sailor' and then not including one fruity phrase. And either Adele or the author could really do with brushing up on their Debrett's.

The narrative is split between Adele's Wikipedia timeline and an 'original character' called Violet Wood, who is some sort of cliched East End girl made good (based on Marie Lloyd's sister?), who loves to dance but has no training and yet goes from the chorus line of the Astaire shows to being a leading lady. Apart from her atrocious 'Cockernee' dialogue, which involves missing the 't' out of every word but is thankfully abandoned for standard English, and tacked on 'me too' storyline, Violet is also devoid of personality. I have no idea why the author thought the Adele's story needed padding out with Eliza Doolittle, and I could have done without the dubious takes on London life and language too ('wanker' is a modern insult, and no woman in the 1920s would have been sitting down with a pint in the pub).

The first half of the book plods along with Adele and Violet, best buds of course, in London, and then Adele and Fred in New York, and back and forth. Then the second half aims to make up for the lack of action by skipping years at a time and summarising both personal lives and world events in a chapter; I felt like I was reading a World War Two flip book, and boy howdy, does the author have a real downer on the Mitfords! Both Kathleen Kennedy and Deborah Mitford are squeezed in as giggling little debutantes, which annoyed me because Adele's six degrees of separation with Kick was why I wanted to read more about her in the first place. I doubt any of the women were as shallow as portrayed here.

I still want to read more about Adele Astaire because I feel absolutely sure there was more to her than the diluted 'tell don't show' Hallmark heroine we get here. show less

Prisoner of the Queen by E. Knight
Book #2: Tales from the Tudor Court
Source: Netgalley
My Rating: 4½/5 stars
My Review:

As Prisoner of the Queen opens, England is in turmoil as Henry VIII’s only surviving yet sickly son is on the throne and his daughters, Mary and Elizabeth struggle with their place in the world and their claim to the throne of England. As the young King’s days come to a close, the Grey family makes their play and places their eldest daughter, Jane on the throne. Known as show more the nine-day Queen, Jane Grey is wholly incapable of holding her position and along with her father and several others, loses her head for treason. Sitting in the wings and knowing she is pawn in a much larger game is Jane’s sister Katherine Grey.

Born of noble blood, Katherine has always known she is nothing more than a pawn in other’s games. Katherine is kind, caring, generous, and totally uninterested in suffering the fate of her sister, Jane. In fact, from the very beginning she is clear to any and all who will listen, she has no interest in being a queen no matter her bloodline nor does she have any desire to stand in the way of Mary and Elizabeth and their respective claims to the throne. Katherine wants what a normal and quiet life that includes a man who loves her, a home far from court, her beloved pets, and a ridiculous number of children. At a very early age, Katherine meets the man she is to love for the rest of her life, Ned, a beautiful and titled young man who knows instantly that Katherine is meant to be his.

The bulk of Prisoner of the Queen is devoted to Katherine and Ned and the tragic love they share. Like Katherine, Ned is from a politically ambitious family and a union between his house and hers would certainly be seen as a threat to the throne. While most would simply get married and call it a day, Ned and Katherine have to receive approval from the crown which is granted shortly before Queen Mary dies. As we all know, Queen Elizabeth was a cat of a different color and was in no way inclined to continue the policies of her now-deceased half-sister. As Elizabeth begins her reign, it is imperative to her safety and security that she identify her enemies and keep them in check. High on her list of potential threats is Katherine Grey.

The moment Elizabeth takes the throne, she makes it clear to Katherine that she will not ever approve her marriage to Ned and her every action will be watched. Katherine isn’t just watched, her letters are read, her words are marked, and her every step is shadowed by someone looking to bring a claim of treason against her. Elizabeth warns Katherine constantly that she is a threat that will be neutralized should she (Katherine) put even a toe out of line. In order to ensure they cannot be together, Elizabeth often engages Ned’s services which keeps him far, far from court. But, love is a powerful emotion to overcome and Katherine and Ned are committed to one another. Knowing they could lose their heads for treason, they wed in secret with the hope that one day, the Queen will approve of their union.
The Bottom Line: Once again, Knight has taken a well-known story and reported on it from a totally different character’s perspective. I LOVED IT!! From the very beginning, Katherine is an individual you want to root for all the while knowing she will never truly have what her heart desires. Despite her actions nearly always supporting her words, Katherine is dealt blow after blow by a suspicious and vindictive queen. This is one of the first books I have read (and I’ve read A LOT of Tudor-related titles) that depicts Queen Elizabeth I as something other than a reasonably decent human who only wants what is best for her subjects and her country. Knight portrays Elizabeth as paranoid, suspicious, untrusting, and cruel. I LOVED IT!! There are some truly beautiful moments in this read for Katherine and Ned but overall, their road is long, hard, and paved with a great deal of misery. Though there is still an incredible amount of detail in this read (BLECH!!) it does end better than the first book and I found myself quite satisfied with the end result. show less

Funny, I wonder if there is a bit of truth in the way the "barbarians" underestimated the Romans by their effete appearance. Sadly, the tribe leaders met with maybe the least impressive, Claudius. Tragically so.

I've always found it odd that the Romans wiped out the Druid practice/religion when they pretty much left all others alone, even encouraging people to build temples in Rome to foreign gods.

Interesting the self-interest on display when the outraged Britons quake under the prospect of show more becoming Roman slaves when they enslave each other with abandon.

Not sure I'll finish this. It's a foregone conclusion and there is a ton of grisly action and cruelty, to be expected with war, but I'll never listen to it again even if I do get through it. Back to Audible it will go.

Ok, I made it through, but skipped over some more gratuitous passages - droning on about curses and battle blows. It strikes me, in the fierce pride of the women in the book, that the only way they can have any agency is to adopt the bloodthirsty violence made the cultural norm by men. Behaving with gentleness, kindness, compassion and compromise are all weak and despised. Why? Because they are the default position of many women? Because they don't result in absolute domination and oppression? Why do we value those qualities in humans over the others? Why are we, and by we I mean the culture as a whole and men in particular, so afraid of that other side to us? Sometimes called the feminine side, but I don't think it's that specific. It's just been nearly completely wiped out of so much of how we think of ourselves and what we consider normal and natural. Sad really. We never learn and it will be the end of us one day. And, sadly, probably all life on earth as we know it. show less

What an unusual twist on co-authoring! The story of Boudica's rebellion is told in (mostly) linear time, but from the points of view of several different characters with each installment carrying on the story from a different p.o.v. as told by a different author. Surprisingly, there's not a blatantly lesser section in the lot.

Given how little we know about Boudica, the culture of Celtic Britain, and Druidism, the authors had very little to work with, yet they've created a very plausible show more sociopolitical setting for their novel. The characters are round and believable and often sympathetic. There's not a single uninflected "good guy," which seems appropriate, given the historical roots of the tale and the fact that this is primarily a story of war.

As expected, the subject means that the book gets pretty much all the content warnings. Violence, SA, child abuse, gore, cruelty to humans and animals, homophobia, racism, etc. There are many disturbing scenes and elements, but none are exploitative or unnecessarily detailed or prolonged. If you've somehow gotten this far in life without realizing that humans, even those who are generally decent in other contexts, often do abjectly horrific things to each other in war, this novel will thoroughly correct that oversight. Also, if you don't know the source story, be aware that Boudica revolted against the Roman occupation of Britain after the Roman provincial procurator had her publicly stripped and flogged and allowed Roman soldiers to rape her daughters, so things get ugly pretty quickly in this book and then just stay ugly.

Human nature is actually the most disturbing thing about the book. As in life, there are a few characters who are so thoroughly degenerate and brutal that we feel pretty comfortable hating them and it's a relief when they're taken out of circulation, but the vast majority of the characters are not so easily managed. Nearly every main character, whether Roman or Britton, does things that, to a comfortable 21st-century eye, are terrible. Sometimes they have no choice, but often they make what seems like the best decision in the moment, even if it leads them into committing injustices. And yet every single one has moments in which the reader sees their humanity and feels for them. For a book with seven authors, that's pretty impressive. show less