The Other Boleyn Girl

The Other Boleyn Girl 
  - Philippa Gregory

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Though I am always interested in history of countries and civilizations, I have to admit that my awareness in this regard is very limited. Apart from the history of India, read as a part of curriculum as well as several story books, perhaps the only other topic I have read quite a few books and articles on is WW2. Thus it is that I haven’t had much exposure to the history of monarchs and dynasties of England. I have, of course, heard/read bits about them, and these, combined with the praises I have been hearing about this book, had intrigued me for a while. This book had been on my wishlist for a very long time, and I finally got a chance to read it last week (after it spent nearly 7 months on my shelf, but in a very august company).

It lived up to the promise – despite its length (520 pages of small font), it kept me hooked, even though I had a rough idea of the story. I also liked the language – it gives the story a distinct air of the past, but is not archaic like the Victorian era works which I find very difficult to read. The atmosphere of the courts in the medieval times is brought vividly alive – the grandeur and the luxuries, whims and tyranny of kings and queens, shallow facades and empty words of the courtiers and friends, greed and sycophancy, high politics and low ethics. The story, as related by Philippa Gregory, weaves a rich tapestry of life of royalty and nobility – full of wealth and pleasure, but a life that is precariously balanced on the favor of the kings and queens. It gloriously depicts the madness inflicted by ambition or the need for survival in this world - where the royals are quick to please and easy to offend, their favor enhancing one’s power and wealth, their disfavor robbing one of everything, including their life.

For the initial one-fourth of the book, I could not help comparing it with the Taj trilogy, of which I have read two books that chronicle the life of Nurjahan - ‘The Twentieth Wife’ and ‘The Feast of Roses’ (perhaps the only other historical fiction I have read about ruling kings, which could also be the reason for comparison and similarities I found). In both cases, the king/prince falls for a woman married to one of his courtiers, even though in the case of the Mughal prince, his marital status was not an impediment, though that if his beloved was. Both were spoiled and whimsical (as perhaps all kings are), and weak in character. Both the stories had a prospective heir (in one case, the son of a mistress, in other, that of a queen) taken away by the reigning queen. Women are little more than tools of men in their quest for power, but the way men in the English court were more than willing to force the women of their family become the king’s mistress, repulsed me. Though not more than the king’s inconsiderate and insensitive manner of throwing aside his wives. It would appear that the accepted practice of polygamy spared many Mughal women the fate of wives of Henry VIII.

With all the rich imagery, the major characters are unexpectedly uni-dimensional. The king is selfish and a truant, and Anne and her uncle and parents are extremely manipulative and ruthless in ambition, and we can hate them as we are meant to. The queen, Catherine, is intelligent and gracious, and loved by her people. I admired her, though she was quite linear in her goodness. However, I could not like the character of Mary Boleyn, though I think we, as readers, are expected to sympathize with her. She is not just weak and submissive, but also quite unintelligent – she never stands up for herself and simplest of the things have to be spelt out for her. It is the portrayal of the brother, George, that I really liked – we can see multiple facets to his personality – the witty and charming courtier, affectionate brother, dutiful heir, a tormented soul who can never voice his own wishes, but who is not above cunning and manipulation. Another thing I didn’t like about the book was overly descriptive sex scenes, some of them pretty gross, particularly a brother instructing his sisters about the matter. Sex is undoubtedly a significant angle in the whole scheme of things, but I could have done without all the gory detail. It seems that in recent years, authors have been inclined to believe that any book for adult has to include scenes of physical intimacy, and in some gross detail, to make it look honest.

It is a well-written, engaging book that made me curious to find more about the history of Tudor monarchs, which I quickly did with the help of Wiki. However, I was disappointed to find that Philippa Gregory has taken so much liberty with historic facts, that we can't rely on it for accuracy of events. But if even such a widely acclaimed book as this one is factually incorrect, can we trust historic fiction to learn about history? To really know about it, one could go to the reference material, but I would not want to read drab academic books; I would enjoy a dramatized version of events. Hence arises a question - what is a good historical fiction? My preference would be for a rendition of events with drama and dialogues to make them readable and entertaining, including addition of events and characters, but without distorting the known facts.