Holland clearly is an experienced writer with considerable competence. She can construct a good scene, build up suspense and her characters are nuanced and complex, yet this book utterly failed to captivate me.In part it was the constant, minor inaccuracies that nagged me like flies. No, it’s not terribly important that Felx isn’t a German name (Felix is) and “Deutschlander” isn’t a word — in any language. No, it’s not important that Nablus belonged to Maria Comnena not Agnes de Courtney, or that Baldwin d’Ibelin wasn’t Balian's younger, landless brother, but the first born and Baron of Ramla and Mirabelle, one of the richest baronies in the Kingdom. But it rubbed me the wrong way that the author of a book titled “Jerusalem” had obviously never been there. If she had, she would know the Temple Mount is not the highest point in the city and that the David Gate faces west not east, among other things. It also set my teeth on edge to have 12th century knights portrayed as earring-wearing dandies with feathers in their caps, while the court scenes read like Versailles in the age of Louis XIV rather than like barons of a Kingdom conquered and held for a hundred years by cagy, clever and astonishingly successful fighting men. To be sure, Holland wrote her novel before the excellent histories of the period by Bernard Hamilton and Malcolm Barber were released, so she must be forgiven for her inaccurate portrayal of Baldwin IV’s leprosy. And, of course, she is within her rights as a novelist to completely ignore the claims to the throne of the subsequent Queen of Jerusalem, Isabella, and to make Tripoli a coward on the Litani (although historically he captured Saladin’s nephew), but as a historian the gratuitous changes to the historical record that do not move the plot forward just seem sloppy. Why have Balian d’Ibelin taken captive at both the Litani and Hattin when he was captured at neither? Why refer to Farrukh Shah as Saladin’s brother when he was his nephew?For readers with no particular interest in accurate history, these errors might seem unimportant, yet it was not just the eclectic mixture of historical fact and sheer fancy that ultimately made me dislike this book: it was the lack of positive characters. Holland’s characters may be complex but only in their layers of unsavoriness. I am repelled by male protagonists for whom “love” manifests itself as the desire to rape, and by female leads that fling themselves at men they hardly know and beg to be debauched. In this book there are no heroes one can really care about: all the Christian lords are either effeminate cowards or brutal barbarians, and even Saladin is portrayed as a vengeful tyrant. There is no nobility or even good honest kindness and affection in this book, and so it left a sour taste in my mouth: it seemed like an insult to Jerusalem.
Frustrating, in that if it had shaken off its conventionalities a little more… Still, an emotional experience I’m lucky to have once a year with a book. Rannulf was an extraordinary character although he might sound like your well-known anti-hero. He made me reminisce of Clemence Housman’s Aglovale, who is a quiet cult (Life of Aglovale de Galis: just because very few have read him, doesn’t mean he isn’t a cult. Right?). His nickname’s Saint; few look past his lack of social graces; he struggles with his God. His love for the leper king’s sister Sibylla comes out in violent urges – it’s unhealthy, but he’s ultra-Templar, he’s refused to look a woman, which isn’t healthy either. He reminded me of Grettir too – The Saga of Grettir the Strong – ah outsiders – though not a criminal, too often. Like Grettir and Aglovale, those few who know him love him – which includes King Baldwin, the leper, who was the other most intimately-drawn and moving person in this book for me. I like my Leper King truly heroic and noble; Saint thought so too. I postponed this because of reviews that say there’s nobody to like, it’s nasty, dreary. In a way I understand, since I can’t for the life of me read her Mongol book: I like nobody and I’m dispirited by the entire affair. But here, I found she paid attention to the idealism of a fair number of these folk, even with her trademark realism. The dirty characters were a trifle too dirty, I admit: this includes Raymond of Tripoli, Reynald of Chatillon, Salah al-Din, each of whom I’d like to see done with more levels. Sibylla became interesting as she progressed, which I guess is the point. She did avoid several character-traps for historical princesses. – I felt this novel had a real power, a novelist’s vision, you know? and just wanted it to throw off the ropes a bit more. Least swallowable were those moments when Salah al-Din succumbs to Templar mystique: those Templars just have the psychological knuckle on him; and Rannulf outwits him, too clever by half for a Saracen. Get over yourselves, guys, I wanted to tell the Temple. Still, there was a scene where a Muslim had religious feelings, amidst the religious experience of Christians – it stuck out as unusual, in Crusader fiction in general. The other tormented interpersonal contact is between the faiths, a nephew of Salah al-Din and a Templar knight. In memory of Rannulf, for whom I wept, and not at Hattin either: five stars.
Do You like book Jerusalem (1997)?
Holland is a master at the historical novel and here there's not a foot placed wrong.The story takes place in the waning days of King Baudouin IV and ends with the disaster at the Horns of Hattin. Holland puts a tale in motion that examines the great personalities of that time and place. The Master of the Temple of Jerusalem, Gerard de Ridford whose stubborn outsized ego leads his Templar army into a slaughter; the gifted but doomed young King Baudouin, stricken with leprosy, his sister, Princess Sybilla, who succeeds to the throne along with her feeble and ineffectual husband Guy de Lusignan. Threaded through it all are two fictional Templar knights; Rannulf, a surly Norman struggling to maintain his monkish vows against the blackness in his heart and a secret passion for Sybilla, and Stephen, the handsome and elegant French knight known as Mouse who carries on an illicit affair with a Saracen prince, nephew to the Sultan Saladin.The complexities and secret maneuverings among the Franks and even between the Muslims and Christians are all laid bare. Even when peace might be bought, the power-hungry players angle for war and more war just to secure a place of glory for themselves. It's at once enthralling and heartbreaking.
—Marlene
Ridley Scott should have used this book for the basis of his movie Kingdom of Heaven, a story about the Christian Crusade to save Jerusalem from the Moslem army Saladin. Cecelia Holland's novel has a much more coherent plot than the one used by Scott. Her main character, the tough, gritty Ranulf Fitzwilliam, a Templar, is quite believable as the dark-haired, dark-eyed, man of steel. As a fanatical warrior/monk he wants no truck with women. In their presence he keeps his eyes on the ground and a growl in his voice. But in the course of events he reluctantly finds himself falling in love with the young Queen Sybilla. This unexpected romance blooms against the terrible reality of war.Holland writes so well. She knows the intircacies of the historical period of which she writes. Her characters are diverse and well developed. And best of all she knows how to tell a darn good story.
—Patricia
Perhaps Ms. Holland's most famous work this novel deals with the Christian Kingdom of Jerusalem and the Second Crusade. I consider myself fairly well versed in this time period and I was impressed with the historical accuracy of the events. It does have some fairly glaring and pointless fabrications. I am not sure what was the reason the author placed an unconventional relationship within the storyline involving a Temple Knight and one of Saladin's lieutenants. Who knew the Knight's Templar had there own Don't Ask - Don't Tell policy? While this strains credibility, for the most part, the characters were excellent. Ms. Holland drew an excellent and sympathetic portrait of Baldwin the Leper. The relationship between himself and his sister Sybilla is particularly endearing. This author is far more popular in England than here in America but I am intrigued to find more of her books. She seems to have written on a very wide range of topics in historical fiction.
—Shawn
