Rowan Speakman Books

Elizabeth of York (1466-1503)

Elizabeth of York was the daughter of Edward IV and queen consort to Henry VII, making her both the last York princess and the first Tudor queen. In all of English royal history, Elizabeth was the only woman to be daughter, niece, sister, wife and mother to a king. Her close relationships with the monarchs in her family would have enabled her to hold enormous influence over the crown, and her role in unifying the country after the chaos of the Cousins War was crucial. But, as her husband’s is, her story is often dimmed in common knowledge next to the tale of her brutal son and his six ill fated wives. And yet, it remains both a tale of the unification of a country and the establishment of a dynasty, and a surprisingly tender love story.

Elizabeth was the first of nine children born to Elizabeth Woodville and her husband Edward IV, the newly crowned York king, who had taken the throne from the old Lancastrian monarch, Henry VI. Her parent’s marriage was famously unpopular, as Elizabeth Woodville was not only of lowly birth, but the daughter of a former Lancastrian supporter. Yet it was a happy union, and Elizabeth was said to be the most beautiful, and most fertile, of women, desirable queenly traits which she passed on to her daughter. Despite her father being briefly deposed in 1470, his reign stabilised and the young Elizabeth grew up in a family of relative calm and happiness.

She would have most likely been educated from the young age of five or six, learning alchemy and history from her father, as well as reading and writing, music, dancing, riding, needlework and some French. Elizabeth would have also learned the airs and graces necessary for a future queen, through observing her mother in action at court. This education would have surely formed the future queen into a keen, and intelligent young woman.

As the first born princess of England, Elizabeth naturally had many suitors; at the age of three, she was briefly betrothed to George Neville, until his father supported the Earl of Warwick’s uprising against the king. In the 1475 Treaty of Picquigny, she was then engaged to the Dauphin of France, but King Louis pulled France out of the treaty seven years later, leaving Elizabeth’s future uncertain once more.

Elizabeth became a vital political key when King Edward died in 1483, and her uncle, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, abused his powers as Lord Protector, and imprisoned both her brothers in the Tower of London. Her thirteen year old brother, Edward V, was never even coronated. Richard III shortly declared Elizabeth and all her siblings bastards. She and her mother and sisters, retreated into religious sanctuary. It was rumoured that the new king had the intention of marrying his niece, as his wife Anne was sickly and his son had died of fever. Despite the romantic storylines between Elizabeth and her uncle in the works of Philippa Gregory, there is no evidence of such a relationship between them. In 1484, she finally came out of sanctuary, on the condition that Richard swear a public oath that no harm would befall the York women.

However Elizabeth Woodville was plotting with Margaret Beaufort, the mother of distant Lancastrian descendant Henry Tudor, who was planning to invade England and take the throne for himself. Elizabeth’s pure royal bloodline would legitimise his claim to the throne, and many considered her to be the true heir to the throne, given her strong claim. However, she never pursued this path, although it is interesting to consider what history would have been like had she taken up the fight for the crown in her own name. When Henry defeated Richard’s forces at Bosworth in 1485, Elizabeth and her family were brought back to the palace to stay in the apartments of Margaret Beaufort. Thus, the red rose and the white rose were combined, and the Tudor dynasty was born.

The Tudor rose combined the red of Lancaster and the white of York.

Elizabeth and the newly crowned king married in January 1486, in a splendid ceremony which made it very clear to any Yorkist supporters which family now wore the crown. Elizabeth was not coronated until the end of the year, but the event was equally lavish, spanning over several days. She never publicly expressed any favour towards her defeated family, choosing to focus on building a new one; eight months after the wedding, her first son, Arthur, was born. The timings have given rise to speculation, often in fictional work, that Henry forced himself on Elizabeth prior to their wedding night. However, historians seem to agree that such behaviour was highly unlikely to have occurred. Indeed there is much historical evidence to suggest that the royal couple shared an uncommonly loving and respectful marriage, considering it was borne out of politics and must have initially been tense given the familial rivalry. Many fond letters between them have been discovered, as have poems by Elizabeth speaking of her happiness. They were together uncommonly frequently, even when they had no need to be. Over the course of seventeen years, Elizabeth and Henry had eight children, only four of which survived to adulthood; Arthur, the future Henry VIII, Margaret and Mary. Yet the losses of their infant children only seemed to bring the couple closer, each finding comfort in the other and in their faith. Despite his miserly reputation, it has been documented that Henry did not hesitate to spend money where his wife and children were concerned; on one occasion, he bought his beloved wife a pet lion, raising my expectations of Valentine’s day gifts to a whole new level. It is also notably remarked, that Henry VII was the only English king never to have any known mistresses, as both partners were said to be faithful for the entirety of the marriage.

Elizabeth was loved not only for her beauty and fertility, but for her great kindness towards her people. Her charity work exceeded the expectations of a queen consort; peasantry would gather around the gates to make offerings to the queen, and she in return handed out such a great amount of money, that she was often in debt. This was equally due to her extreme generosity towards her sisters, for whom her husband would not provide a dowry. She was said to be instrumental in the education of her son Henry, and their handwriting shows stark similarities; her educational awareness also extended to Arthur’s Spanish betrothed, Catherine of Aragon, whom she wrote to and advised her to learn French, and to avoid the sickly water in England. However her position as queen may have been encroached upon by Margaret Beaufort, who was elevated to a station only just below her, and wore gowns just as fine. But Elizabeth seemed to tolerate it, and the two worked together in harmony. It would be safe to say that the queen was probably one of the happiest consorts to sit on the throne, although that it is undeniable that the deaths of her young children, Edward, Edmund and Elizabeth, must have pained her greatly. Her mother also died in the summer of 1492, whilst in imprisonment for Yorkist plots, of which there many during Henry VII’s reign. I believe that it is unlikely that Elizabeth did not privately carry grief for her extinguished family, but politically she had achieved all of their hopes for her, and she enjoyed a loving family life still.

In 1502, not long after his marriage to Catherine of Aragon, Prince Arthur died of fever. His death not only shattered his family, but threatened to ruin the Spanish alliance. On hearing the news, King Henry wished to inform his wife first in person, and a moving exchange of comfort and shared grief was reported between them, when the distraught Elizabeth broke down in her chambers. Fearful for the security of the succession, Elizabeth was anxious to try for another son, and she fell pregnant again within months of Arthur’s death. The child came prematurely, and Elizabeth fell fatefully ill, while her husband paced outside her chamber and ordered specialist doctors to attend to her. The child, Katherine, died at only eight days old, followed by Elizabeth the next day, on her thirty seventh birthday. Henry was devastated by her death, and ordered a beautiful funeral for his queen. The king never fully recovered from his grief, and the court descended into a state of paranoia and misery along with him. He lived only five more years in great solitude and was buried beside Elizabeth in Westminster Abbey. Henry VIII was recorded to have held his mother in the highest of regards, and was equally pained by her death; some historians believe that no woman, including any of his wives, could hold a candle to Elizabeth of York in his eyes. It is a shame that he did not inherit his parents’ capacity for a loyal and stable union.

Elizabeth is often forgotten in the history of great British queens, as she does not conform to the traditional view of a powerful woman, such as the fierce Margaret of Anjou, the cunning Anne Boleyn or her famed granddaughter Elizabeth I. She is often written off as passive in comparison, favouring her place as a wife, mother and benefactor. But this does not mean that she is any less strong a figure, or deserving of any less respect. Her kindness and intelligence are just as valuable qualities as power or ferocity. And regardless of whether or not Elizabeth of York wielded any real political power, being a successful consort was not an easy task, especially in a country in the wake of war and political turmoil. And it is a pleasant and surprising idea, that the Tudor dynasty, so renowned for its bloodiness and treachery, may have been truly built on a union of love, loyalty and respect. That, perhaps, is Elizabeth’s gift to history, and it is one more than worthy of remembrance.

By, Rowan Speakman

(Images sourced from Wikimedia Commons).

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue – V.E. Schwab (2020)

(SPOILER WARNING FOR: THE INVISIBLE LIFE OF ADDIE LARUE)

. It seems a fantastical, impossible concept to translate to the page; the story of a girl, cursed to be forgotten by all that meet her, and her life that stretches centuries. Yet in The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, Schwab not only achieves this scopey challenge, she does it with such a dark, nuanced, beautiful flair that I forgot I was reading a fantasy, so human and real were the themes and characters.

. Addie LaRue is an adolescent growing up in the French village of Villon in the early eighteenth century. A far away idea of a life for the reader, yet Addie’s character is a fabulously relatable incarnation of a young woman with a big mind, growing up in a life too small for her. She sees the short, sad lives of the struggling people around her and ‘a marriage bed, a child bed and a death bed’, and dreads such a life every day. She dreams of travelling to distant cities, draws in her sketchbook and longs for a passionate love beyond her betrothal to an old widower. And her interest dabbles dangerously in the mysterious gods worshipped by the old woman in the woods. And so on her wedding day, Addie flees and makes a deal with a dark god, who cruelly takes the form of the fantasy lover she had created to occupy her thoughts. He promises her freedom, and an eternity to enjoy it, but when Addie wakes, she finds her family do not know her, and that she is forgotten by anyone she meets the moment they leave the room.

.The beginning of Addie’s life of immortality is a heartbreaking and brutal read. She goes starving on city streets, is forced to sell her body for money and is taunted by the dark god, dubbed Luc, who visits her annually and wills her to surrender her soul to him. But her stubbornness and lust for life endures, and she learns how to play Luc at his own game, to inspire artworks where she cannot create her own, and to slip where she wills through the world. And over the years, Addie becomes less and less human, her only constant in her life the presence of Luc, who embodies all the danger and passion she once yearned for.

.The timelines alternate between the past and the present of 2014 New York. Addie is living her eternal life, both a blessing and a curse, taking lovers who forget they’ve been with her a dozen times before and hiding in the margins of the world. Until she meets Henry, a book store worker who somehow remembers her.

.Henry is a lost young man, floating between careers and relationships, dabbling in alcohol and drugs; at first presentation, as a reader I had little sympathy for him, until Schwab offers more examination into his character, which is perfectly encapsulated in the line ‘a boy is born with a broken heart’. He is a person desperate for love and approval, from his family, his career and his relationships, and always feels he is falling short of being ‘enough’. And as unfortunately is often a side effect of a poor sense of self, he has his heart broken again and again. His only constants are his imperfect, but loving friendships with Bea and Robbie, two memorable additions to the supporting cast. Schwab’s use of ‘the storm’ as a metaphor for the depression Henry has clearly suffered from his whole life is appropriately devastating and heartbreaking. A rejected proposal leads Henry up onto a rooftop, and into the clutches of one of Luc’s deals. And suddenly he is desirable to everyone who sees him, and is trapped in a situation akin to Addie’s; one that is both heaven and hell.

. Addie and Henry’s relationship seems to encapsulate all of what the novel debates and discusses, and the tragedy of its ending makes its themes all the more acute. She is the girl who is forgotten, and he has been made unforgettable. She wanted to live, he wanted to die. She was chasing dreams and passion, he was chasing anything to make him feel loved. She is fierce, he is kind. And Addie ponders if it is love, ‘this warmth’, compared to the hot, dangerous passion she shares with Luc. And that is such a modern debate; should love be a ‘warmth’ or a ‘heat’? And yet at the heart of these debates, is a tender bond between two characters whose pains are both healed by each other, even in ways they do not realise.

. In the gut wrenching final act of the novel, Luc forces Henry to reveal to Addie that the catch of his curse is the polar opposite of hers, as seems thematically fitting; he had only one year to live from the day he made the deal, and his time is nearly up. Thus ensues Henry and Addie’s long goodbye which spans weeks, in which they lie in the sunlight, tell stories and reflect on the beautiful messiness of life. I am a mess at this point. But in their final moments, Addie reveals her twisted deal; she will give herself to Luc, if Henry lives on. His life becomes fuller and clearer, given purpose through the publication of his rendition of Addie’s story, The Invisible Life of Addie Larue. And in turn, the book gives Addie memory, an idea to be stored in reader’s minds. And so she and Luc continue their burning battle of minds, with the knowledge of Henry’s simple dedication; I remember you, the most beautiful of love letters possible for a forgotten girl. And it stabs the reader right in the heart, but it’s an exquisite ending.

.The writing of the novel is sumptuous, and the images crafted in the readers mind make reading it a cinematic experience. I found that it was in the present scenes of modern day New York, that Schwab’s romantic language seemed to escalate, as opposed to the scenes set in the lavish eighteenth century. I believe it was intentional that The Last Word bookshop, the Artifact art display and Henry and Addie standing arm in arm at the food truck, are the images that stuck with me the most when I put the book down. The love scenes are equally beautifully written; indeed the novel as a whole seems to have a refreshingly positive take on sexuality, with both of its main characters being casually bisexual and Addie savouring what little connection she can through her many lovers.

. The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue is the latest novel from American fantasy author Victoria Schwab, who has been nominated for multiple Goodreads Choice Awards. Her other works include the A Darker Shade of Magic trilogy and Vicious. A film adaptation of The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue has been confirmed, and I find myself in the traditional book lover position, of praying it does justice to its magnificent source material.

By, Rowan Speakman

Click here, to find out more about V.E. Schwab and her books.

To buy a copy of The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, click here.

Amelia Earheart (1897-1937)

Amelia Earheart was an American aviation pioneer, author, lecturer and social worker, whose works and achievements left a significant impact not only on our knowledge of the capabilities of aviation, but on the ambitions of many young women.

From a young age, it was very clear that Earheart was not going to hold the traditional place in society that was expected of women. She was known to be an intrepid and adventurous child, who put an enormous amount of value on her own education. Her family experienced great financial hardship after the death of her grandfather, and the Earhart’s moved frequently across America, struggling both in terms of money and with Amelia’s father’s alcoholism. In a situation both dire, and all too common, Earheart remained dedicated in her passions and ambitions for herself, and when her mother received her inheritance, she was able to attend the Ogonz School in Pennsylvania. During the First World War, she developed an interest in caring for wounded soldiers, and left college in 1918 to become a nurse’s aide in Toronto. After the war, she enrolled in Columbia University, but was prevented from going by her parents, who wished for her to move with them to California. It seemed that family circumstance would again risk her chances of success, but ironically California was the birthplace of the passion and skill that Earheart would be remembered for.

In 1921, Earheart’s first flight in an aeroplane with war pilot Frank Hawks sparked an obsession that led her to take flying lessons. By 1923, she had earned her pilots licence, under the tuition of a female instructor, and at age 26 became only the 16th woman in the world to hold one. Whilst continuing her pursuit of aviation, Earheart moved to Boston to become a social worker. Having earned a name for herself, she was selected in April 1928 to become the first woman to fly across the Atlantic Ocean; it was rather demeaningly speculated that the choice was made due to her resemblance to her male counterpart, Charles Lindbergh, who had completed the flight in the previous year.

When Earheart landed in Wales on June 18th, she was catapulted to instant celebrity status, undertaking a U.S lecture tour with her publicity managed by her soon to be husband George Palmer Putnam. However, she remained adamant to continue her career under her maiden name, and voyaged again across the Atlantic solo in May 1932. Her achievements continued to stack, including but not limited to, her record time flight of 14 hours and 56 minutes from Newfoundland to Ireland, and her published novels 20 Hours 40 Minutes (1928) and The Fun of It (1932). Earheart was also a great promoter of women defying gender norms, starting the female pilot organisation, the Ninety-Nines, and releasing a 1933 functional women’s clothing line. It was apparent that she wished success and individuality for all women, and encouraged and educated her fellow female aviators. She believed ‘that a girl should not do what she thinks she should do, but should find out through experience what she wants to do.’

In 1937, Earheart made the decision to fly around the world with Fred Noonan, departing from Miami on July 2nd of that year. They remained in contact with the U.S ship Itasca, and radioed in the later half of the journey that the plane was running out of fuel. This was Earheart’s last communication, as her craft disappeared without a trace. An extensive search was carried out, but was called off by the 19th, with Earheart and Noonan declared ‘lost at sea’. Putnam published his wife’s last letters in the 1937 book The Last Flight.

Earheart’s tragic and mysterious disappearance has been documented in many theories, films and books, yet a concrete answer has never been found, and the whereabouts of her plane remains one of the greatest mysteries of the twentieth century. In media, she was portrayed in the 2009 biopic romance film Amelia, starring Hillary Swank, which was criticised for it’s failure to capture its subjects spirit.

In her short forty years of life, Amelia Earheart had a tremendous impact on both the pioneering of aviation and on the belief in the capabilities of young women. She inspired a generation of female aviators, and we can only speculate what her achievements would have been had her last flight landed.

By, Rowan Speakman

For more information about Amelia Earheart, click here.

(All images sourced via Wikimedia Commons).

Something in the Water – Catherine Steadman (2018)

(SPOILER WARNING FOR: SOMETHING IN THE WATER)

Something in the Water is evidence that the simplest of concepts can become a masterful subversion of expectations when in the right hands. The concept in question: the most seemingly perfect couple find a bag full of riches in the aftermath of a plane crash whilst on their honeymoon. The execution: a brilliantly realistic account of an ordinary woman put in the most unusual of situations, that grapples with her morality and her very nature, accompanied with the most delicious of twists.
The protagonist of the novel is Erin, who is exactly the sort of protagonist who requires a first person perspective. Her deliciously dry and dark wit gives the entire novel a fantastically alive feel. It opens with a flash-forward of her burying a body; ‘Have you ever wondered how long it takes to dig a grave?’, Steadman asks in her opening line. No, I have not actually. How long does it take? This is the lively, yet realistic way in which Steadman and Erin make the reader think. Indeed, I imagine the author’s search history is a dubious one after penning this one, even by writer’s standards.
Erin is a TV documentary maker, currently working on a programme comparing the lives of three prisoners and their releases back into society. Erin’s occupation, and her entanglements with the prisoners in question, especially a charming mobster named Eddie Bishop, is a prime example of how to execute a subplot. It not only reveals more about Erin’s character and fleshes out her life, but the knowledge she gains of the criminal world elevates the stakes in relation to her discovery on her honeymoon. It adds another layer of moral questioning, and Erin never fails to surprise the reader with the aptitude she shows towards a life like Eddie’s.

Erin is engaged to Mark, an investment banker who has recently been made redundant, rather cruelly just before their wedding. They have what many of us perceive as the perfect relationship, primed for marriage; they love and support one another, they’ve been together for years, have a great sex life and together they almost pull off a criminal stunt that we only dream of in our wildest Bonnie and Clyde fantasies. And yet Steadman weaves in her twist with the art of a writer decades into her career. There are scenes that make the reader sit up, and question the perfect love story, such as the argument after Mark and Erin arrive home, in which the former implies that his wife ought to have been a whore to gain more income. Alarm bells ring, during this and several other scenes, but the reader is much too preoccupied with unravelling the tempting plot Steadman has left, to truly wonder just yet.
Mark and Erin honeymoon in Bora Bora, and everything is oh-so-normal. They’re stressed about work, they’re trying for a baby, they’re loving the hot climate. All until Mark decides to go scuba diving, very much against Erin’s wishes, and they find something they shouldn’t; a duffle bag, filled with money, jewels, a phone, a USB, and a gun, nonetheless. Not to mention a private plane full of dead people below the surface of the blue vistas of Bora Bora. And so Erin and Mark make the decision to take the riches and fuel a new life, inevitably plummeting them into a world of danger and crime. The most terrifying thing? The way Steadman writes it, it’s not impossible for you to imagine yourself in the same position, doing the same things. As Mark reminds Erin of the bodies on the plane, ‘they weren’t good people’. And the descent into being identified as such is documented with such realism that it’s hard to classify Erin as such, nor for the reader to deviate from their loyalty to her.
Erin is a fabulous find in a world where female protagonists are often chronicled as either stone cold badasses or infantile dependents. She’s a real person, not a caricature. She’s fearlessly and passionately dedicated to her career, and she adores her husband and looks forward to her future children. She takes pride in her appearance and enjoys her sexuality with no shame, without using it as a weapon. She shows humour and gumption, yet is naturally terrified of her circumstances and has human fears and doubts. Her moral ground is tested again and again, and her flaws of greedy ambition and her almost blind adoration of her husband only add to her complexity and reality, and embody the nature of the novel itself.
And so the twist – in the final act, the dangerous circumstances of her find force Erin to a Norfolk village, where she plans to return the USB stick to the mysterious organisation behind her newfound wealth. And out in the woods, after being assaulted in a hotel room, desperate and in mortal danger, Erin discovers the heartbreaking truth; Mark has been working against her, and was more than willing to let her be killed by the people hunting them. It’s a brutal and terrifying twist, and it shocks us to the core whist making so much sense. The fear in a remarkable situation transfers into the oh-too- real doubt; how can we ever know our partner, what if we don’t? And how quickly our world can be turned upside down.
The novel ends with Erin staying with no less that one of her documentary subjects, Alexa, with the continued support of Eddie. You can feel her fear, and her uncertainty of her new life, and the reader grieves for the loss of the man she loved with her. It’s bold, brutal storytelling, and the final image of Erin staring at the incriminated face of her final prisoner on the television screen is a haunting reminder that crime lingers, and it always has a price.
Something in the Water is the 2018 debut from British actress Catherine Steadman, and it shot to the top of the New York Times Bestsellers list. Film rights are now in the hands of Reese Witherspoon’s production company, Hello Sunshine.

By, Rowan Speakman

For more information about Catherine Steadman and her books click here.

To buy a copy of Something in the Water, click here.