The Other Boleyn Girl by Philippa Gregory

A can't-put-down read, this is my first Philippa Gregory book, but I can't wait to read more. Through the eyes of Mary Bolelyn, Gregory tells the story of Anne Boleyn's rise and fall. We know how it ends, but getting there is fascinating. Siblings Mary, Anne, and George Boleyn are pawns in the Howard family quest for power. George is already a courtier in King Henry's court when his sister, Mary, catches the king's eye. Never mind that she is married. In fact, that's a plus since any pregnancies resulting from the affaire can be pawned off on her husband who must forgo intimate relations with his wife in the meantime. Since Mary's husband is one of Henry's courtiers, he must watch and encourage the affaire. The Howard family and Mary's husband benefit from the liaison with titles, positions, and land awards. Anne coaxes her sister through the affaire and fills in for Mary when she is indisposed because of her pregnancies. After Mary loses the king's interest, Anne finds herself in the king's favor, but she won't be content with an illicit affaire. She will settle for nothing less than replacing Katherine of Aragon as Queen of England. Roles are reversed as Mary now advises Anne on how to win and keep the king. Anne will stop at nothing, not even murder and incest, to achieve her goal. While this sounds like a soap opera, all the political and religious machinations are dealt with as well as a woman's place in the world during that time period.

It's the characters that make history interesting. Unfortunately, when I was in high school, the teachers didn't seem to understand that. It wasn't until I got to college and took history classes from professors who were passionate about history and the people who made history that I developed a love of history. Gregory understands this as well. This book is all about the characters, what makes them who they are and what motivates them--everything behind the dates and places and events that you had to memorize in high school without learning why they happened. This is Tudor historical fiction at its best. Four out of four bookworms.

One Thousand White Women: The Journals of May Dodd by Jim Fergus

One of my husband’s coworkers loaned me this book when she learned that I like historical fiction. The premise intrigued me. History notes that the Cheyenne Chief Little Wolf asked the United States government to send 1000 women to marry Cheyenne men and teach them how to live in the white world. The United States government declined. In One Thousand White Women, Jim Fergus poses the question, “What if the government declined publicly, but secretly sent 1000 women to marry Cheyenne men?” Thus begins an exploration of cultures. Through May Dodd, one of the white women who volunteered to marry an unknown Cheyenne man, we live the atrocities committed by Cheyenne and white, men and women, rich and poor. We also live their compassion. Although I had trouble accepting the premise, I eventually released my doubts about white men sending their white women to mate with “animals.” Those doubts were never overcome, but I became so engrossed in the story that I simply didn’t care any longer. Other than that, I only had one problem with the novel. Midway through the story, the white women are kidnapped by an enemy tribe. They are raped before their husbands rescue them. During the rescue the women kill and scalp their kidnappers and glory in their revenge. Fair enough. But later, the white preacher, sent with the women to help “civilize” the Cheyenne, rapes a Cheyenne boy. The boy’s family beats the preacher. The white women feel pity for the preacher, tend his wounds, and try to comfort him. When they were raped they wanted revenge, but when a child was raped they didn’t. This happens after the women have come to see the Cheyenne as people and not animals. Their sympathy for the preacher isn’t logical. If anything, the women would have been more outraged at the child’s rape than their own. Three out of four bookworms.


Disclaimer: My great great grandmother was Cherokee. I wear a t-shirt with a photo of Geronimo and company that says “The Original Department of Homeland Security: Fighting Terrorists since 1492.” No, I didn't design it, but you can get your own. Just click on the t-shirt at the left.

Annie Freeman’s Fabulous Traveling Funeral by Kris Radish

A friend of mine loaned me this book. It’s not one that I would have picked up for myself. While the cover looks fun, the title looks sad. And as I’ve said before, life is sad enough. I don’t need to read about it. It took me several months to get through it—not because it was a bad book but because it was a sad book. I could only read a few pages at a time before I was sobbing uncontrollably. So I’d put it down for a few days until I felt strong enough to continue. Now comes my “full disclosure.” My daughter died when she was five, so I’m probably more weepy than most. These women’s feelings about the loss of their friend struck a chord with me. About three-fourths of the way through the book, I finally stopped crying. I finally got tired of all the sadness. If fact, I got tired of them rehashing the same feelings and thoughts over and over again. I’m the only one allowed to do that, and I do it in the privacy of my own mind. Yes, I found the book interesting enough and compelling enough to finish it through my tears. And Radish has a new book out that I think I might read—The Sunday List of Dreams—because she is obviously a gifted writer. Three out of four bookworms.

Jan Karon’s Mitford Year Novels

When I first began this series with At Home in Mitford, I thought it was a cozy mystery. A friend had loaned it to me, and it sat on my shelf for a year before I finally decided to read it. As I read, I kept wondering, “Where’s the mystery?” About halfway through, I finally realized, “This isn’t a mystery, although it is cozy. It’s a darned good book!” Karon creates characters I want to spend time with, from compelling to quirky. I want to live in Mitford with these characters. I want the warm, flawed character of Father Tim as my rector. I want to sit in the park and scratch Barnabas behind the ears. I want to enjoy Cynthia’s humor as we visit across our backyards. This is one of those rare books that I didn’t want to end. Fortunately, there are eight more in the series. Karon has created a warm and engaging world you won’t want to leave. Four out of four bookworms.

The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger

I just finished The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. I must admit that I was reluctant to read it. Why? Well, to start with, it’s on the bestseller lists. The last time I picked up a book on the bestseller lists (Elizabeth Kostova’s The Historian), I struggled through half the book before finally deciding that life is too short. Secondly, a friend who read it said that she cried. I don’t want to cry when I read a book! I want to laugh! Life provides enough tears! So, why did I pick up a copy? Same friend said she couldn’t put it down, and my son wanted to read it for his English class. Occasionally, I like to read something that my kids are reading, so we can discuss it. This gives me some insight into their weird little brains. And, honestly, most of the classics they read in school are sooo boring.

Niffenegger instantly draws the reader into Clare and Henry’s story. She simply, yet brilliantly handles what could be a confusing timeline by using dates as well as Clare and Henry’s ages to let us know when we are and when the characters are. Another author might have bristled at the straightforward simplicity of this technique and left the reader to struggle over when the characters are. But Niffenegger is a storyteller, and as such, she allows nothing to get in the way of the story, not even an author’s ego.

No, I couldn’t put it down—at least not until end when I had to put it down to deal with the overwhelming emotion Niffenegger wrung out of me. It’s one of those books that haunts you long after you finish it. Kudos to Niffenegger for effectively using two points of view, Clare’s and Henry’s, in first person. I’m not a real fan of first-person point-of-view, but when an author does it well, as Niffenegger does, I love it.

So, would I recommend this book? Yep. I give it four out of four bookworms.