In this novel (or trio of novellas, to be more accurate) written in the early 1900s, Ford Madox Ford set himself a challenge, to write a novel of Tudor England in a style that sought to re-create the language of the actual time period. The book that resulted is not the easiest for modern readers to digest, and judging from the work of some of his contemporaries, probably would have been a tough read even a century ago. The text is exceedingly spare in non-dialog content, often subsuming such in what is essentially dialog pulled out of the quotation marks. In terms of that style and commitment to language, I completely agree with Graham Greene, who called this effort a "magnificent bravura piece." As an impressionistic text, it is quite brilliant.Where I take issue with the novel though, and thereby give it only 3 stars, is the fact that Mr Ford has taken the historical truth and massaged it to fit some personal agenda (which I won't go into here: there's only so much literary theory I can bore you with in one sitting.) I've scoffed in other reviews on this site as to Guy Gavriel Kay's extreme aversion to tainting history with authorial prejudice: now I wonder whether he had this book in mind when he came to his conclusions, and am a smidge more sympathetic (even if I think he's still being ridiculous.) Mr Ford takes the titular historical figure -- who is known, both commonly and to academics, as an indifferently educated, morally loose young woman -- and shoehorns her into the role Anne Boleyn actually had before her: of a scholarly and devout, yet charismatic, queen. This outright fictionalization is completely maddening. Thomas Cromwell, one of the most important men of his time, is set up as Kat Howard's direct opponent, when there is little to indicate that Kat was anything more than a pawn in the (snerk) game of thrones (I mentioned in an update that this portrayal of her more accurately depicts what might have happened to Sansa Stark had the latter not been brought to King's Landing by her father.) Thomas Culpeper, in reality a favorite courtier of the King, is reduced in this fiction to being a minor noble who barely spends any time at court, as he chases after promotion and alcohol in various other parts of Europe. The only characters whom I felt were portrayed with at least some historical accuracy were Henry himself and the imperious Lady Mary (to whose retinue Mr Ford incorrectly attaches Kat: she was actually an attendant to her own predecessor, Anne of Cleves.) And while Kat's final speech was incredibly moving, it was also incredibly unlikely. I spent far too much time admiring the speeches in this book (and thinking they would be well adapted for the stage) rather than enjoying the narrative thread, which might explain why it took me so long to finish this.If you can overlook the cringe-inducing historical misrepresentations, The Fifth Queen is a great stylistic triumph. And though I said I would spare you too much literary theory, I have to add that forewords to books like this have uniformly irritated me of late. Knowing nothing of the contents or the author, having A. S. Byatt yammer on and on about both topics at the start of the book is just confusing. But going back to her essay after reading the book is an illuminating experience. Why don't publishers tack these things on to the end of books? It's a much better reading experience that way. After all, who reads literary criticism before reading the novel in question? (I mean, besides you guys, but that's because you enjoy my little diatribes.) I expect forewords to build my interest in the story I'm about to read (see: Walpole's first introduction to The Castle of Otranto though, granted, not his second.)I received this book gratis as part of GoodReads' First Reads program.Edited to change the phrase "literary criticism" to "literary theory" because there is a difference!
Amid the current inundation of Tudor films, biographies and novels, I thought it would be worth revisiting Ford Madox Ford's masterpiece The Fifth Queen, which offers an unconventional look at the tragedy of Katherine Howard. It has been hailed as being the among the best English language historical novels of the twentieth century; I am close to agreeing with the assessment. It is certainly one of the finest historical romances that I have ever read.The Fifth Queen is a trilogy of three novels rolled into one, detailing Katherine's rise and fall in a manner which authentically conveys the era. Ford contends that Katherine, as a Catholic, was trying to get Henry VIII to reconcile with the Church of Rome. She was close to succeeding; the reformers did not want that to happen. Having been raised in a motherless and unprotected environment, Katherine's adolescence could not bear close scrutiny and she was easily framed. Her male friends were tortured until they admitted to dallying with her before marriage and after her marriage. Her servants were tormented as well. Getting other people to agree with the testimony of the tortured men and serving maids was no difficult feat. And so Katherine was condemned as a slut and whore.Ford alludes to the fact that while Katherine may have been violated in some way as a young girl. In The Fifth Queen it is clear that Henry is aware that she has a Past but does not care. Ford's Katherine is about eighteen years although Alison Weir in The Sixth Wives of Henry VIII says she may actually have been only fifteen. Ford portrays her as witty and bright, which makes sense since Henry was not generally attracted to stupid women; he enjoyed the repartee with a lively, clever damsel, especially over theological matters. Katherine had the charm of her cousin Anne Boleyn, with a great deal more sweetness; she also had the magnificent red-gold hair of the Plantagenets. Henry was repeatedly drawn to women with such hair, such as all three of his Katherines.Ford brings Katherine to life as no one else - engaging, impulsive, and valiant. This portrayal coincides with what Alison Weir writes about her efforts to help imprisoned Catholics, especially Henry's cousin Blessed Margaret Pole. Katherine is loving to her much older husband, to whom she becomes deeply attached, in Ford's novel. As her tragedy unfolds, she is ready to immolate herself for what she sees as a higher cause. Henry's heartbreak when he sees he must lose her is captured by Ford in a very moving manner. Henry does not believe the charges of adultery (Katherine was never officially found guilty of breaking her marriage vows). The King hopes to annul his marriage to her so that at least she can live as his mistress. Katherine must choose either dishonor in life or dishonor in death.There seem to be few if any portraits of the fifth queen; what portraits still exist are dubious. Those who destroyed her also tried to destroy all evidence that she had lived, even as the altars of the old religion were being broken and defaced. However, Katherine lives in Ford's amazing trilogy, which is as vivid a work of art as any painting.
Do You like book The Fifth Queen (2011)?
I recently read Hilary Mantel's Wolf Hall and Bring up the Bodies, so when my library displayed a collection of Tudor novels, I snapped this up. I loved reading these books so close together! The hero of Mantel's trilogy is the villain of Ford's, and as another reviewer pointed out, Mantel also uses Ford's impressionist technique.The Fifth Queen follows Kat Howard from her arrival in Henry VIII's court to her downfall and execution. Ford portrays her as a devout, tragic heroine determined to bring England back to Rome. This isn't anything like the real Kat Howard, but it makes for a great story.The only thing I didn't enjoy was the language. Ford tried to accurately recreate the English of the Tudor era in the dialogue. That's a cool experiment, but it's pretty difficult to read. Once my brain adjusted, the book really flew, but it was tough going for the first hundred pages or so. If you're not as lazy as me, this probably won't bother you.Overall, I recommend this trilogy...especially since we're still waiting for Mantel to finish up hers!!
—Deirdre
Ford Madox Ford’s trilogy about the doomed Katharine Howard, fifth queen of Henry VIII, is a fine novel deserving of more attention. Kat Howard comes into the novel much like Mary comes to Bethlehem, on a donkey, humbly dressed, guided by the temperamental Thomas Culpepper. As Joseph played second fiddle to God, Culpepper will have to play second fiddle to King Henry. A timely replacement for the politically desirable but physically repellent Anne of Cleves, Katherine is intelligent, beautiful, naively outspoken, and passionately idealistic. Despite her ragged condition combined with the pain of a broken arm suffered at the hands od a riotous butcher, she catches the eye of Henry VIII to become the old goat’s his fifth wife. Yet her intelligent innocence and her rustic upbringing in genteel if erudite poverty has not equipped her for the corruption and intrigue that now surround her, especially the machinations of the Lord Privy Seal, Thomas Cromwell and his network of 700 spies. In this atmosphere she has trouble finding a politically safe position caught between religious fanatics—both Protestant and Catholic— whose competing beliefs form the nexus of conflict that is often difficult for modern readers to grasp in an areligious age. Katharine becomes a threat to Thomas Cromwell as her influence increases over the gouty, libidinous King. Originally published in three parts, ‘The Fifth Queen’, ‘Privy Seal’, and ‘The Fifth Queen Crowned’, the trilogy evokes much of the chaos and riot that marked the early Tudor years before law and order and prosperity had brought a general harmony to England in the wake of the Dissolution of the Monasteries and the displacement of serrfs from land that was fenced off for grazing sheep. It was an age when large populations of aggrieved vagabonds dotted the landscape searching for asylums and security that Henry had not thought to provide when he implement his reforms. It may be too easy to think of Katherine as a second Anne Boleyn, as she soon met a similar fate on the chopping block. But Ford’s novel argues that Katherine was far less opportunistic than Boleyn, if not a failed reformer with a strong sense of ethics and a transparent heart, foreign to the courtiers and spies that surrounded her. Ford presents her not as the adulteress traitor that the modern world might easily excuse. Instead, he portrays her as intellectual, solemn, humble and beautiful, a young woman who marries Henry VIII not for personal or familial advantage but from a devout and compassionate intention of returning England to Catholicism and ending the divisions in that would eventually lead to Civil War that would result in the decimation of the population of the United Kingdom that began three generations later.
—Greg Deane
This is actually three novels written about Kat Howard during 1906 - 1908. It is a very different portrayal of her than the typical one of flighty, shallow, and morally loose. Here she is religiously devout and intelligent, which is as another reviewer pointed out much more accurate of Anne Boylen than Kat Howard. Perhaps less scholarly work had been done on Kat Howard than or perhaps Ford just made up his character to suit his wishes. Either way this book has to be viewed as a work of literature and is not historically accurate. Another difficulty I had with this book is the language. Ford attempts to use the vernacular of the 1500s and it makes it hard to read. It took me a while to get into the story. I also agree with another reviewer that the forward wasn't really a forward and should be read after the book not before. Despite these challenges the story is quite good. If you like historical fiction and can get past the inaccurate rendering of Kat Howard, you will enjoy this book.
—Kate
