You need to sign in or sign up before continuing.
Take a photo of a barcode or cover
3.65 AVERAGE
3.65 AVERAGE
reflective
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Raised in an orphanage, Alice expects little from the world but when she’s plucked from its confines to become a lady-in-waiting to Philippa of Hainaut, Edward III’s beloved wife and queen, she has little understanding of what dizzying heights she will climb to, ultimately becoming Edward III’s mistress and an uncrowned queen, wielding power unthought of for a woman, especially a lowborn woman at that, in 14th century England. But Edward is old and his health failing: what will become of Alice when he can no longer protect her?
I picked up Anne O’Brien’s The King’s Concubine with some trepidation. This is the fifth novel of hers that I’ve read and my previous responses have been ‘not as bad as I thought it’d be’, ‘average’, ‘I don’t hate it’ and ‘thanks, I hate it SO much’ – I keep reading her work because she keeps writing about fascinating women from Edward III’s reign to Henry VI’s, a time period I’m inordinately fond about, and hardly anyone else does. But I’d hoped this would be better, at least, than the first novel about Alice Perrers I read, Emma Campion’s [b:The King's Mistress|6114600|The King's Mistress|Emma Campion|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1327957366l/6114600._SY75_.jpg|6292665], which depicted an Alice sweeter than sugar and with no agency at all, just a poor little victim of vast, outlandish conspiracies that never actually existed and are deeply implausible.
If I say O’Brien’s take on Alice Perrers was better, it’s only because she didn’t go for an utterly unhinged, utterly unbelievable conspiracy that explains why Alice had no choice, none whatsoever, in anything that ever happened in her life. If I say O’Brien’s Alice was better constructed, with flaws, I then have to say that she was unlikeable to the point of irritating me greatly and I’m not sure I was actually meant to see Alice as flawed but a #badassqueen and if so, hard pass.
So let me begin by saying that I found O’Brien’s Alice insufferable. There seems to be a heavy suggestions that she really is just a victim. She didn’t do anything wrong, she didn’t really seduce Edward III from his beloved and deathly ill wife – Philippa chose her to be Edward’s mistress! Even so, Alice was wracked with guilt over it! Alice was just a pawn! Everyone was so mean to her! Edward loved her so much too! Just like she loved him! She didn’t steal Philippa’s jewels – Edward gave them to her! And he insisted she steal the rings from his dead fingers! And she was just a smart businesswoman, nothing corrupt or evil about her! And John of Gaunt tricked her! And Joan of Kent was out to get her! For Reasons!
Look, I’d love a sympathetic take on Alice Perrers, I really would. I think there’s ample room to challenge the historical narratives. But at the same time, I don’t want a version of her that’s completely and utterly whitewashed, I don’t want her declawed and defanged and made into this innocent little victim who’s ganged up on by the rest of the world. And I certainly don’t want this achieved by slinging mud at other historical women, implying that they’re to blame for all of Alice’s trials and traverses.
But as much as O’Brien plays this “Alice is a perpetual victim” angle hard, her Alice is just… horrible. She’s greedy, selfish, self-obsessed and grasping, constantly making excuses for her behaviour. She stomps her foot when people tell her she can’t attend the Order of the Garter ceremonies because she’s not a Lady of the Garter. You’re still not a Lady of the Garter, Alice, and you’re not a toddler either. Grow up. She’s positioned as Philippa of Hainault’s “most loyal” lady-in-waiting, to which I snort derisively, and O’Brien tries so darn hard to foster a sense that she was genuinely fond of Philippa – yet her entire interior monologue during Philippa’s death scene is basically “I am uncomfortable when we are not about me”. She’s upset and jealous that Edward III loves Philippa so much and she’s second-place (despite an earlier scene where Edward is all “well I may have jousted in my wife’s name but you were foremost in my heart the entire time!”). Meanwhile, Philippa is actually dying, she literally does not finish the scene alive, and Alice is just “but Edward III doesn’t love me like that! I should be loved best of all! This dying lady is making me feel bad because everyone is paying attention to her when they should be talking about ME”.
There’s also a scene where Edward III is dying and Alice refuses to let two different priests be alone with him to take his confession so Edward can’t repent of having sex with her so Edward literally dies unshriven. This is probably not an issue for a modern reader but it would be considered an unforgiveable sin in Alice’s time. Like it or not, Catholicism was hugely important for medieval royals and the idea of dying unshriven was utterly repugnant and horrifying, to the point where, if a baby was expected not to survive the birth, midwives were allowed to baptise the child still in the womb because they believed that an unbaptised baby would go to hell. To put Alice’s actions in her own historical context and not with the gloss of “historical romance but superficially feminist” narrative O’Brien is trying to write, Alice is behaving like a woman who does not give jot about whether the man she loves dies unshriven and goes to hell because he might confess to having sex out of wedlock with her, something he absolutely did do. WTF?
And while I hoped there’d be an eleventh hour call-out where some friend or mentor-figure is like, “Alice you’re selfish and greedy and behave like a spoilt toddler” when this has happened in nearly every other O’Brien novel I’ve read – I was left frustrated. I was left wishing I could steal Philippa of Hainault’s jewels back from Alice myself because she’s just so irritating.
It also seems that O’Brien wanted her to be the Plucky/Badass Historical Heroine and have her “slay” her enemies with a perfect jibe or gesture but all it did was drag me out of the setting to cringe at Alice’s weak put-downs. In such moments, Alice is not a medieval woman but a two-dimensional Strong Female Character™ shoved into a vaguely medieval setting and it is blaringly obvious.
(Also opening the novel with a scene where tiny convent-raised Alice has no frigging clue who Mary, Mother of God is was certainly… a Choice. I was raised Catholic from birth and the idea of not knowing, at any age, who the pretty lady carrying baby Jesus was is pretty damn absurd and I wasn’t raised in a convent by nuns! And the fact that Alice is old enough to retain a memory of it (since the novel’s told in her first person POV, past tense) makes it even more bewildering.)
Alice’s world is so insular. The royal court during the last years of Edward III’s life was a fascinating time and place, with so many interesting personalities: Chaucer, Katherine Swynford, Joan of Kent, John of Gaunt, the Black Prince, Blanche of Lancaster, Froissart... But we barely see any of that. There’s only a handful of notable characters outside of Alice – Edward III as the dashing romantic hero turned vulnerable old man, Philippa of Hainault as the approving wife, their daughter Isabella as the bitch who puts Alice in her place until Joan of Kent can return to be the true villainess of Alice’s story and the sexily ambitious William de Windsor, Alice’s husband. None of Edward III’s sons do anything of significance (though we bewilderingly get Lionel, Duke of Clarence characterised as an arsehole for one brief scene – yeah, I don’t know why he’s an arsehole there either but if you want an arsehole son, Thomas of Woodstock and John of Gaunt are right there and famously dickish), there’s no Chaucer, no Katherine Swynford, no debates about the succession. And even when O’Brien references Alice doing things outside of boning Edward III and collecting jewels, like fighting for her properties or giving birth, she never actually shows us Alice doing these things but just refers to them for a couple of sentences.
There’s even a repeated flashback of Alice parading around as the Lady of the Sun and thinking she deserves this pre-eminence but we don’t even get to see the original scene! The fact we see it in flashback twice suggests that the first time was something incredibly special and meaningful to Alice. But do we see it? NO.
I think my biggest issue with this is the way that it treats the women around Alice. To avoid feeling like Alice is a horrible hussy, stealing a dying woman’s husband, O’Brien presents Philippa picking Alice out and raising her to the status of lady-of-waiting with the intention of Alice becoming Edward’s mistress. So it’s all okay, Philippa approves, it’s not really cheating. It even makes sense, to some degree, that Philippa would approve – she is very sick and dying, sex is probably out of the question for her.
But she insists on complete and utter secrecy which means Philippa is really making Alice her pawn and Alice has no choice but to sleep with Edward (even though their relationship is completely and utterly a love match and he never forces her) and Philippa is to blame when the secrecy leaves Alice exposed to the slings and arrows of public opinion. Now, it’s plausible that Philippa, sick and dying, might have approved of Edward taking a mistress or having a sexual relationship with Alice but I don’t find it plausible that Philippa picks Alice out just to be Edward’s mistress. I don’t find it plausible that her approval must remain secret from everyone but especially Edward. Because Philippa and Edward were a famously close and loving marriage – it’s way more likely she’d confide in him before anyone else. And, also, because Philippa’s approval is secret, it doesn’t remove the stink from Edward’s actions. If he doesn’t know she approves, he’s choosing to cheat on his beloved, sickly wife. Seriously. I mean, it’s great Alice has the seal of approval from Philippa so she’s not the homewrecking whore but if Edward doesn’t know his wife approves, he’s still a cheating scumbag and not a dashing romantic hero, y’know?
And there’s no reason for Philippa not to let him know she approves. They had a famously strong, loving relationship. She would trust him far more than Alice, some random person she’s just met and decided is wonderful because she picked up Philippa’s dropped beads.
Plus, while O’Brien never once addresses this, this set-up suggests that Philippa is grooming the young, vulnerable Alice to become her husband’s mistress. A) that’s disgusting, B) it’s all done in the name of denying Alice any responsibility for sleeping with a married man, and C) Philippa of Hainault has done NOTHING to deserve this.
The basic narrative of Alice Perrers’ life presents Philippa as her victim. She is the loyal, steadfast, devoted, seriously ill wife who is dying when Alice hooks up with Edward and is paraded as his mistress in front of everyone. So I’m not really comfortable with O’Brien’s narrative actually making Philippa the real reason for all the public condemnation Alice’s receives and a woman who groomed a vulnerable young woman to become her husband’s mistress.
And then there’s poor Joan of Kent. I was honestly surprised at this because O’Brien’s novel about Joan was quite sympathetic. Here, though – she’s just vain and selfish and out to get poor little Alice. There is absolutely no historical basis for this – I doubt Alice and Joan were friendly but there is not one shred of evidence that Joan thought anything at all about Alice. I also found it quite disturbing that Alice was so focused on Joan’s looks and sexual behaviour, derisively calling her Joan the Fat (in addition to this just being gross, there’s some thought that, like Philippa, Joan suffered from dropsy so yay, mocking a woman for a medical condition! What a badass queen Alice is and not at all a horrible person.) and Joan the Whore.
Wait. Seriously. Wait.
Alice “infamous whore” Perrers is slut-shaming Joan of Kent?
I’m actually speechless. People in glasshouses shouldn’t throw stones and the pot is calling the kettle black and let’s not slut-shame women. Actually, forget that, let’s talk about why Joan was labelled a slut. She, aged around 12, married a man twice her age, the marriage was consummated – and then was forced by her family to marry another man and, without consummating this second marriage, went through the scandal of having her case examined by the Pope and her second marriage annulled. Don’t call her a slut, you dipshit, call Child Protective Services.
Seriously, anyone that thinks Joan of Kent was a slut because of what happened when she was twelve needs their heads checked because WHAT.
Outside of these issues, the novel just dragged and it was a struggle to pick this up, knowing I’d be stuck with Alice and the stupid, ill-conceived storytelling decisions made to make Alice an eternal victim. I don’t know if this is any better than Campion’s The King’s Mistress but if it is, it’s only by a millimetre. After both of those, I’m ready to give up on my dream of a rehabilitated but not endlessly victimised Alice. Honestly, I understand why Alice was so hated because damn she’s insufferable even when she’s “good”.
I picked up Anne O’Brien’s The King’s Concubine with some trepidation. This is the fifth novel of hers that I’ve read and my previous responses have been ‘not as bad as I thought it’d be’, ‘average’, ‘I don’t hate it’ and ‘thanks, I hate it SO much’ – I keep reading her work because she keeps writing about fascinating women from Edward III’s reign to Henry VI’s, a time period I’m inordinately fond about, and hardly anyone else does. But I’d hoped this would be better, at least, than the first novel about Alice Perrers I read, Emma Campion’s [b:The King's Mistress|6114600|The King's Mistress|Emma Campion|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1327957366l/6114600._SY75_.jpg|6292665], which depicted an Alice sweeter than sugar and with no agency at all, just a poor little victim of vast, outlandish conspiracies that never actually existed and are deeply implausible.
If I say O’Brien’s take on Alice Perrers was better, it’s only because she didn’t go for an utterly unhinged, utterly unbelievable conspiracy that explains why Alice had no choice, none whatsoever, in anything that ever happened in her life. If I say O’Brien’s Alice was better constructed, with flaws, I then have to say that she was unlikeable to the point of irritating me greatly and I’m not sure I was actually meant to see Alice as flawed but a #badassqueen and if so, hard pass.
So let me begin by saying that I found O’Brien’s Alice insufferable. There seems to be a heavy suggestions that she really is just a victim. She didn’t do anything wrong, she didn’t really seduce Edward III from his beloved and deathly ill wife – Philippa chose her to be Edward’s mistress! Even so, Alice was wracked with guilt over it! Alice was just a pawn! Everyone was so mean to her! Edward loved her so much too! Just like she loved him! She didn’t steal Philippa’s jewels – Edward gave them to her! And he insisted she steal the rings from his dead fingers! And she was just a smart businesswoman, nothing corrupt or evil about her! And John of Gaunt tricked her! And Joan of Kent was out to get her! For Reasons!
Look, I’d love a sympathetic take on Alice Perrers, I really would. I think there’s ample room to challenge the historical narratives. But at the same time, I don’t want a version of her that’s completely and utterly whitewashed, I don’t want her declawed and defanged and made into this innocent little victim who’s ganged up on by the rest of the world. And I certainly don’t want this achieved by slinging mud at other historical women, implying that they’re to blame for all of Alice’s trials and traverses.
But as much as O’Brien plays this “Alice is a perpetual victim” angle hard, her Alice is just… horrible. She’s greedy, selfish, self-obsessed and grasping, constantly making excuses for her behaviour. She stomps her foot when people tell her she can’t attend the Order of the Garter ceremonies because she’s not a Lady of the Garter. You’re still not a Lady of the Garter, Alice, and you’re not a toddler either. Grow up. She’s positioned as Philippa of Hainault’s “most loyal” lady-in-waiting, to which I snort derisively, and O’Brien tries so darn hard to foster a sense that she was genuinely fond of Philippa – yet her entire interior monologue during Philippa’s death scene is basically “I am uncomfortable when we are not about me”. She’s upset and jealous that Edward III loves Philippa so much and she’s second-place (despite an earlier scene where Edward is all “well I may have jousted in my wife’s name but you were foremost in my heart the entire time!”). Meanwhile, Philippa is actually dying, she literally does not finish the scene alive, and Alice is just “but Edward III doesn’t love me like that! I should be loved best of all! This dying lady is making me feel bad because everyone is paying attention to her when they should be talking about ME”.
There’s also a scene where Edward III is dying and Alice refuses to let two different priests be alone with him to take his confession so Edward can’t repent of having sex with her so Edward literally dies unshriven. This is probably not an issue for a modern reader but it would be considered an unforgiveable sin in Alice’s time. Like it or not, Catholicism was hugely important for medieval royals and the idea of dying unshriven was utterly repugnant and horrifying, to the point where, if a baby was expected not to survive the birth, midwives were allowed to baptise the child still in the womb because they believed that an unbaptised baby would go to hell. To put Alice’s actions in her own historical context and not with the gloss of “historical romance but superficially feminist” narrative O’Brien is trying to write, Alice is behaving like a woman who does not give jot about whether the man she loves dies unshriven and goes to hell because he might confess to having sex out of wedlock with her, something he absolutely did do. WTF?
And while I hoped there’d be an eleventh hour call-out where some friend or mentor-figure is like, “Alice you’re selfish and greedy and behave like a spoilt toddler” when this has happened in nearly every other O’Brien novel I’ve read – I was left frustrated. I was left wishing I could steal Philippa of Hainault’s jewels back from Alice myself because she’s just so irritating.
It also seems that O’Brien wanted her to be the Plucky/Badass Historical Heroine and have her “slay” her enemies with a perfect jibe or gesture but all it did was drag me out of the setting to cringe at Alice’s weak put-downs. In such moments, Alice is not a medieval woman but a two-dimensional Strong Female Character™ shoved into a vaguely medieval setting and it is blaringly obvious.
(Also opening the novel with a scene where tiny convent-raised Alice has no frigging clue who Mary, Mother of God is was certainly… a Choice. I was raised Catholic from birth and the idea of not knowing, at any age, who the pretty lady carrying baby Jesus was is pretty damn absurd and I wasn’t raised in a convent by nuns! And the fact that Alice is old enough to retain a memory of it (since the novel’s told in her first person POV, past tense) makes it even more bewildering.)
Alice’s world is so insular. The royal court during the last years of Edward III’s life was a fascinating time and place, with so many interesting personalities: Chaucer, Katherine Swynford, Joan of Kent, John of Gaunt, the Black Prince, Blanche of Lancaster, Froissart... But we barely see any of that. There’s only a handful of notable characters outside of Alice – Edward III as the dashing romantic hero turned vulnerable old man, Philippa of Hainault as the approving wife, their daughter Isabella as the bitch who puts Alice in her place until Joan of Kent can return to be the true villainess of Alice’s story and the sexily ambitious William de Windsor, Alice’s husband. None of Edward III’s sons do anything of significance (though we bewilderingly get Lionel, Duke of Clarence characterised as an arsehole for one brief scene – yeah, I don’t know why he’s an arsehole there either but if you want an arsehole son, Thomas of Woodstock and John of Gaunt are right there and famously dickish), there’s no Chaucer, no Katherine Swynford, no debates about the succession. And even when O’Brien references Alice doing things outside of boning Edward III and collecting jewels, like fighting for her properties or giving birth, she never actually shows us Alice doing these things but just refers to them for a couple of sentences.
There’s even a repeated flashback of Alice parading around as the Lady of the Sun and thinking she deserves this pre-eminence but we don’t even get to see the original scene! The fact we see it in flashback twice suggests that the first time was something incredibly special and meaningful to Alice. But do we see it? NO.
I think my biggest issue with this is the way that it treats the women around Alice. To avoid feeling like Alice is a horrible hussy, stealing a dying woman’s husband, O’Brien presents Philippa picking Alice out and raising her to the status of lady-of-waiting with the intention of Alice becoming Edward’s mistress. So it’s all okay, Philippa approves, it’s not really cheating. It even makes sense, to some degree, that Philippa would approve – she is very sick and dying, sex is probably out of the question for her.
But she insists on complete and utter secrecy which means Philippa is really making Alice her pawn and Alice has no choice but to sleep with Edward (even though their relationship is completely and utterly a love match and he never forces her) and Philippa is to blame when the secrecy leaves Alice exposed to the slings and arrows of public opinion. Now, it’s plausible that Philippa, sick and dying, might have approved of Edward taking a mistress or having a sexual relationship with Alice but I don’t find it plausible that Philippa picks Alice out just to be Edward’s mistress. I don’t find it plausible that her approval must remain secret from everyone but especially Edward. Because Philippa and Edward were a famously close and loving marriage – it’s way more likely she’d confide in him before anyone else. And, also, because Philippa’s approval is secret, it doesn’t remove the stink from Edward’s actions. If he doesn’t know she approves, he’s choosing to cheat on his beloved, sickly wife. Seriously. I mean, it’s great Alice has the seal of approval from Philippa so she’s not the homewrecking whore but if Edward doesn’t know his wife approves, he’s still a cheating scumbag and not a dashing romantic hero, y’know?
And there’s no reason for Philippa not to let him know she approves. They had a famously strong, loving relationship. She would trust him far more than Alice, some random person she’s just met and decided is wonderful because she picked up Philippa’s dropped beads.
Plus, while O’Brien never once addresses this, this set-up suggests that Philippa is grooming the young, vulnerable Alice to become her husband’s mistress. A) that’s disgusting, B) it’s all done in the name of denying Alice any responsibility for sleeping with a married man, and C) Philippa of Hainault has done NOTHING to deserve this.
The basic narrative of Alice Perrers’ life presents Philippa as her victim. She is the loyal, steadfast, devoted, seriously ill wife who is dying when Alice hooks up with Edward and is paraded as his mistress in front of everyone. So I’m not really comfortable with O’Brien’s narrative actually making Philippa the real reason for all the public condemnation Alice’s receives and a woman who groomed a vulnerable young woman to become her husband’s mistress.
And then there’s poor Joan of Kent. I was honestly surprised at this because O’Brien’s novel about Joan was quite sympathetic. Here, though – she’s just vain and selfish and out to get poor little Alice. There is absolutely no historical basis for this – I doubt Alice and Joan were friendly but there is not one shred of evidence that Joan thought anything at all about Alice. I also found it quite disturbing that Alice was so focused on Joan’s looks and sexual behaviour, derisively calling her Joan the Fat (in addition to this just being gross, there’s some thought that, like Philippa, Joan suffered from dropsy so yay, mocking a woman for a medical condition! What a badass queen Alice is and not at all a horrible person.) and Joan the Whore.
Wait. Seriously. Wait.
Alice “infamous whore” Perrers is slut-shaming Joan of Kent?
I’m actually speechless. People in glasshouses shouldn’t throw stones and the pot is calling the kettle black and let’s not slut-shame women. Actually, forget that, let’s talk about why Joan was labelled a slut. She, aged around 12, married a man twice her age, the marriage was consummated – and then was forced by her family to marry another man and, without consummating this second marriage, went through the scandal of having her case examined by the Pope and her second marriage annulled. Don’t call her a slut, you dipshit, call Child Protective Services.
Seriously, anyone that thinks Joan of Kent was a slut because of what happened when she was twelve needs their heads checked because WHAT.
Outside of these issues, the novel just dragged and it was a struggle to pick this up, knowing I’d be stuck with Alice and the stupid, ill-conceived storytelling decisions made to make Alice an eternal victim. I don’t know if this is any better than Campion’s The King’s Mistress but if it is, it’s only by a millimetre. After both of those, I’m ready to give up on my dream of a rehabilitated but not endlessly victimised Alice. Honestly, I understand why Alice was so hated because damn she’s insufferable even when she’s “good”.
emotional
hopeful
reflective
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
(8.57 on CAWPILE)
This is my second book by this author so I was excited to be continuing to get through her work. I really like that Anne O'Brien writes about women in history but not only the same typical Tudor women we usually get.
The story of this book was interesting to me because seeing the inner workings of the court of King Edward III was fascinating to me. How his house could become so divided that we lead to the hundred years war followed by the war of the roses through his descendants. Seeing it from the perspective of the women in his life who could mildly influence him but held no power was fascinating.
Alice was a compelling character to follow. Given her humble origins and how little we know about her past yet becoming a woman so much influence seems like the perfect recipe for an interesting historical fiction. I loved that O'Brien decided to highlight this incredible woman whom history would like you to forget.
O'Brien's chapters are long and her prose can be a little heavy but for some reason it works so well. I still found the pacing well managed and was compelling to read.
I found that I never had any struggle imagining what was being described and all of the characters felt very fleshed out. Including their own voices and mannerisms in my head. I also found that the book was very immersive. This isn't a time period that is a strong suit for me, but from my knowledge of the era it was accurate with occasional flourishes or filling in gaps where we have no concrete knowledge which allowed the author some wriggle room for creativity. I didn't feel there were any historical sins in this work at all.
Pros
- Characters
- Intrigue
- Prose
Cons
- Long chapters
- Slow pacing
- Would have liked more relationships between women
Overall a great historical fiction, would recommend for women wanting to get in to women's history.
This is my second book by this author so I was excited to be continuing to get through her work. I really like that Anne O'Brien writes about women in history but not only the same typical Tudor women we usually get.
The story of this book was interesting to me because seeing the inner workings of the court of King Edward III was fascinating to me. How his house could become so divided that we lead to the hundred years war followed by the war of the roses through his descendants. Seeing it from the perspective of the women in his life who could mildly influence him but held no power was fascinating.
Alice was a compelling character to follow. Given her humble origins and how little we know about her past yet becoming a woman so much influence seems like the perfect recipe for an interesting historical fiction. I loved that O'Brien decided to highlight this incredible woman whom history would like you to forget.
O'Brien's chapters are long and her prose can be a little heavy but for some reason it works so well. I still found the pacing well managed and was compelling to read.
I found that I never had any struggle imagining what was being described and all of the characters felt very fleshed out. Including their own voices and mannerisms in my head. I also found that the book was very immersive. This isn't a time period that is a strong suit for me, but from my knowledge of the era it was accurate with occasional flourishes or filling in gaps where we have no concrete knowledge which allowed the author some wriggle room for creativity. I didn't feel there were any historical sins in this work at all.
Pros
- Characters
- Intrigue
- Prose
Cons
- Long chapters
- Slow pacing
- Would have liked more relationships between women
Overall a great historical fiction, would recommend for women wanting to get in to women's history.
Really good if you are interested in historically based reads. Story is well written as you explore the whole of Alice's life and how her role comes to fruition. Very subtle in its writing and not pornographic in content which is quite reassuring as it does not take away from the true purpose of the book.
A very powerful and enthralling read. A definite page turner and I feel a good ending to a story based on true events.
A very powerful and enthralling read. A definite page turner and I feel a good ending to a story based on true events.
[I was given a copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review]
2 stars.
Alice Perrers - "England's Most Scandalous Mistress"! Haven't they all been given this dubious title at some point? I wouldn't say that Alice Perrers is the most famous royal concubine - but perhaps that's why a book about her should be more interesting to the jaded historical fiction fan.
Little is known about the real Alice, other than her two marriages and her some 15 year long love affair with King Edward III, during which she displayed impressive foresight and ingenuity by collecting land and manors to see her through when her royal lover is dead. With these scant facts, Anne O'Brien has developed quite a believable - though rather unpalatable - protagonist.
I am struggling with this review because I cannot put my finger on what it was about Anne O'Brien's writing style that I took issue with. It didn't grip me at all; to be honest, I was bored and I skim-read the last quarter of the book (even then it took me over a week to finish, that's a very long time for me!). The story didn't impact on me enough to be able to give a concise review but maybe that is all I need to say...?
With the multitude of truly excellent historical novelists and novels out there, I would recommend that this book be given a miss.
2 stars.
Alice Perrers - "England's Most Scandalous Mistress"! Haven't they all been given this dubious title at some point? I wouldn't say that Alice Perrers is the most famous royal concubine - but perhaps that's why a book about her should be more interesting to the jaded historical fiction fan.
Little is known about the real Alice, other than her two marriages and her some 15 year long love affair with King Edward III, during which she displayed impressive foresight and ingenuity by collecting land and manors to see her through when her royal lover is dead. With these scant facts, Anne O'Brien has developed quite a believable - though rather unpalatable - protagonist.
I am struggling with this review because I cannot put my finger on what it was about Anne O'Brien's writing style that I took issue with. It didn't grip me at all; to be honest, I was bored and I skim-read the last quarter of the book (even then it took me over a week to finish, that's a very long time for me!). The story didn't impact on me enough to be able to give a concise review but maybe that is all I need to say...?
With the multitude of truly excellent historical novelists and novels out there, I would recommend that this book be given a miss.