Step aside, Lord Martin. The Queen has arrived.

Say what you will about the series, Rebbecca
Fergusen gives a stellar performance as
the bold yet innocent Elizabeth Woodville

I got the luck of the draw this month, with the first Monday post after the season premier of The White Queen in the United States. 

The series, based on six novels by the incomparable Philippa Gregory, ran over the summer in the UK, where it was apparently not well received.  But who cares?  That was then, this is now.  We colonials have gotten so accustomed to CableTV and Hollywood botching up history that we've come to prefer our history botched up.  And why fuss about anachronistic details like period-specific hygiene and zippered dresses, as long as the sex scenes are good?  So bring it on, The White Queen!  We are ready to love you, no matter what your flaws. 

Those of you who have followed my posts in different places may know by now that I am an avid fan of Philippa Gregory.  I have read many of her historical fiction novels, most recently The Lady of the Rivers, the story of Jaquetta Woodville, the mother of Elizabeth Woodville, the White Queen.  I have not, unfortunately, read any of the other novels on which the current series is based.  Though The Red Queen, a recent birthday gift, is waiting on my shelf, and seems to be calling me at this very moment. 

My most recent favorite
from Philippa Gregory

Gregory has probably influenced my own journey as a writer more than any other author.  I have the deepest admiration for her commitment to using fiction as a tool for reconstructing women's history.  Her stories are often devoted to figures about whom we might not have heard otherwise:  Jacquetta Woodville in The Lady of the Rivers, Mary Boleyn in The Other Boleyn Girl, and Jane Rochford in The Boleyn Inheritance, to name a few.  Gregory is vivid in her prose, capable of bringing diverse characters and distant times to life.  She crafts complex, admirable (and sometimes not-so-admirable) women; strong historical figures who lived in times of great uncertainty and made daily decisions upon which their lives and the lives of many others depended. 

So when I sat down to begin my own journey as a novelist, I did not think "I want to write like J.R.R. Tolkien".  As much as I admire the master's work, and as much as I recognize the many seeds of inspiration he has given me, I wanted to do something different. 

Nor did I think, "I want to write like George R.R. Martin," because quite frankly, I didn't even know who he was back then. 

But I did want to write like Philippa Gregory and many other authors of historical fiction who had inspired my imagination by weaving stories with strong women protagonists. 

I wanted to write woman-centered stories like they did, but I wanted to do it in the genre of fantasy. 

The last time I saw Gregory's work translated into a screenplay was the film interpretation of The Other Boleyn Girl. This was sore disappointment that managed to butcher all the most important elements of the original novel, despite the potentially great cast. 

Great actresses, beautiful costumes, awful movie.
I guess two out of three ain't bad.

There is always greater hope when a book is translated to a 10-part series as opposed to a 2-hour movie. There's more flexibility here, more time to indulge in the details. (Although with The White Queen, we are talking six novels squeezed into a single 10-part series, which. . . Well, you do the math.)

With only one episode under our belts, it's too early to tell whether The White Queen will fulfill that hope.  There were some things I didn't like about the first episode.  For example, the overriding emphasis on romantic elements to the detriment of, say, building the political context or filling out some of the more interesting characters such as Warwick.

But to be fair, episode one was all about Elizabeth in love; the sort of starry-eyed, innocent manner in which she embarked upon her secret marriage with the York King. This innocence was well grounded by the more pragmatic approach of her mother, the marvelous Jacquetta. It also sets us up for what could be a very interesting transformation in the life and character of Elizabeth herself. 

Personally, I can't wait to see what happens next.

And that is all you really need to know in order to call it a good story.


P.S. ~ Mark, let me just add that if you're still looking for a novel that centers on a long-term, stable and loving relationship, I highly recommend The Lady of the Rivers. 

posted by Karin Rita Gastreich

Sisterhood

Snow White and Rose Red

One of my favorite Grimm’s Fairy Tales growing up was ‘Snow White and Rose Red’.  This tale is not to be confused with the much more popular ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarves’.  The Snow White of ‘Snow White and Rose Red’ is a different character, with a distinct background, personality and story. 

Snow White and Rose Red are sisters who live with their widowed mother deep in the woods. Together they befriend a bear in winter time and rescue an ungrateful dwarf from a variety of unpleasant fates.  Little do they know the bear is actually a prince under a curse cast by the dwarf.  Each time they rescue the dwarf, they inadvertently take away some of his magic. This eventually results in the bear being able free himself from the curse by killing the dwarf.  The prince takes Rose Red as his bride, and as luck would have it, successfully matches up his brother with Snow White. Both sisters not only live happily ever after, they live happily ever after together.

The Ingalls sisters:  Caroline, Mary and Laura

Sisterhood is a repeated theme in many tales, and it has always appealed to me. Growing up, I was an avid follower of the Ingall's sisters in Laura Ingalls-Wilder’s classic Little House series. 

When as an adult, I read The Other Boleyn Girl by Philippa Gregory, what impressed me most was not so much the retelling of Anne Boleyn’s story (after all, by then I knew how it all began and how it all would end), but the exceptional skill with which Gregory captured the essence of sisterhood:  the love, the admiration, the jealousy and rivalry, the bond of blood and affection capable of withstanding almost anything, even the fatal political and sexual intrigues of the court of King Henry VIII. 

I wasn't very happy with the film interpretation of Gregory's
novel, but Natalie Portman and Scarlett Johansen made
for a nice-looking pair of sisters.

More recently in the Hunger Games, the power of sisterhood has resurged with Katniss Everdeen taking the place of her sister Primrose, and becoming a hero – oops!  I mean, a heroine -- before even stepping foot inside the Games. 

I have been blessed with having a sister; so every time I read a story about sisters, I’m reminded of that relationship, and all that my sister has meant to me and given me over the years. Love, encouragement, faith in my ability to achieve my dreams, an example to aspire to, someone to care about, support and depend upon.  Big sisters are especially wonderful because they so often serve the role of pathfinders. They are the ones who forge ahead into life’s unknown territories, and come back to share their wisdom with younger siblings. 

Katniss and Primrose from The Hunger Games have recently
been added to the list of famous sisters

In Eolyn’s world, sisterhood also has a special meaning.  Eolyn herself has no biological sisters, but in the tradition of the Magas, all followers of the very first maga, Aithne, are sisters in magic.  For the Magas, sisterhood transcends boundaries of time, place and bloodlines.  One can even speak of ‘sisters’ who lived centuries ago. The Magas believe that all practitioners who have passed into the Afterlife continue to watch over their sisters in the world of the living.  So while Eolyn is on her own for much of her journey, she is never truly alone with her magic. 

These are some of my thoughts on sisterhood; it’s importance in our stories as well as in our lives.  Now it’s your turn.  What does “sisterhood” mean to you?  Who are your favorite sisters in fiction and history, and why?  How have your sisters, in blood and in spirit, made your life easier, more interesting, more fulfilling? 

Posted by Karin Rita Gastreich

The Munro sisters, Cora and Alice, from the film
The Last of the Mohicans.  Like many sisters that live on in our
imaginations, their fates will not be happy ones.