Why I chose to write about the Anglo – Saxon period – by Matthew Harffy

Today I am absolutely thrilled to have Matthew Harffy on the blog for the first date of his blog tour, to celebrate the paperback release of his fantastic novel “Killer of Kings” – I’m currently reading this book and let me tell you, it’s brilliant! I’ll be reviewing it as soon as I’ve finished. For now though, I’ll hand over to Matthew as he talks about just why he chose to write about the Anglo Saxon period!

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Beobrand has land, men and riches. He should be content. And yet he cannot find peace until his enemies are food for the ravens. But before Beobrand can embark on his bloodfeud, King Oswald orders him southward, to escort holy men bearing sacred relics.When Penda of Mercia marches a warhost into the southern kingdoms,Beobrand and his men are thrown into the midst of the conflict. Beobrand soon finds himself fighting for his life and his honour.In the chaos that grips the south, dark secrets are exposed, bringing into question much that Beobrand had believed true. Can he unearth the answers and exact the vengeance he craves? Or will the blood-price prove too high, even for a warrior of his battle-fame and skill?

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People often ask me why I chose to write about the Anglo-Saxon period. The answer to that question sounds like a typical author’s cliché answer, such as, ‘the characters have a life of their own’, ‘I cannot not write’, and, one of my favourites, ‘I don’t choose what the characters do, I just write their story as they tell it to me’. I have heard writers say all of the above in one form or another, and I have even said some of those things myself. I used to think they were all trite answers that authors would trot out in order to sound mysterious and intriguing. That is, until I became an author myself and realised that there is an element of truth in every one of them! I suppose that is the case with most clichés. And, as is so often the case with clichés, even though my answer to the question about how I decided on the period to write about sounds contrived, it is actually true.

You see, I didn’t set out to write about the seventh century. This early mediaeval period, often referred to as being in the Dark Ages, chose me.

I can remember the moment when the seed of the first book in the series, The Serpent Sword, was sown. That was one October night back in 2001. But before I get to that, I need to give a bit of my history which will explain why that seed took root.

My parents moved us all to Northumberland when I was nine years old. I didn’t have the easiest time at school there. Being from West Sussex, my accent marked me as an outsider, which the girls seemed to like and the boys appeared to hate. This resulted in me being popular with the girls and being bullied by many of the boys.

But even though school wasn’t always fun, I loved the countryside that surrounded the small village of Norham where we lived. Northumberland is much more rugged and sparsely populated than the south east of England and everywhere you turn there are reminders of the distant past. The village of Norham itself, nestling beside the broad expanse of the River Tweed, is overlooked by the crumbling ruins of a Norman castle and its mediaeval church once housed Robert the Bruce’s forces when they besieged the castle for seven months in 1318. The land is hilly and wild and the coastline is rocky and dotted with ruins, such as the picturesque and magnificent Dunstanburgh Castle, which sparked my youthful imagination.

One of the most famous castles on that coastline is Bamburgh. The fortress that stands on the mighty crag overlooking the North Sea is huge and built in a mediaeval style, having been significantly restored in the nineteenth century. But for a long time I never understood the castle’s significance to the region from long before it was a stone castle that played an important role in the fifteenth century Wars of the Roses.

We moved away from the area when I was still a child, but it had a lasting effect upon me and my view on the world. I remained interested in the natural world and also in castles and the people who had lived in them. Growing up in the eighties, I became obsessed with fantasy novels and films and played role-playing games such as Dungeons & Dragons, where larger-than-life characters battled evil creatures with swords, spears, shields and magic.

Years went by and so it was in 2001, with my first daughter asleep in her cot and my wife working late, that I found myself watching a documentary on television about Bamburgh Castle and graves which archaeologists were excavating there. The graves dated from the seventh century and earlier and the programme spoke of the importance of Bamburgh, or Bebbanburg as it was known then, in the early mediaeval period. This was the time of the Anglo-Saxons, whom I knew little about at the time. Bebbanburg was the capital of the northern kingdom of Bernicia. I had never heard of such a place, but in the seventh and eighth centuries Bernicia and its neighbouring kingdom Deira, which when unified became Northumbria, were some of the most important kingdoms of the British Isles and even of Europe!

That television programme gave me a brief glimpse into the past of a landscape that I hadn’t visited for twenty years. And something about it spoke to me. I rushed upstairs and started to write the first scene of what would become, many years of research and writing later, the first novel of the Bernicia Chronicles, The Serpent Sword.

As my writing and research continued over the ensuing years, I discovered that the period was perfect for writing epic, gripping thrillers. Good stories need conflict and the seventh century is full of it. You have the Anglo-Saxons invading from the east battling with the native Britons who they referred to as the Welsh (which derives from the Old English for foreigner!). There is the clash between old pagan religions and Christianity. And there is even the conflict between the Roman Christianity coming from the south, and the Irish form of Christianity, spreading from the west and the north. Most of the kings of the time died in battle and there was subterfuge and intrigue aplenty. On top of all of that, there were very few written records, meaning there is a lot of leeway for a novelist to create original stories. I realised that I was able to write stories that indulged my love of swords and battles and great heroes, grounding them in a real historical time and place. The only real difference from the fantasy books and games I loved was that there were no dragons and no magic, though of course, the people of the time believed in both.

And so you see, I did not make the decision to write about the early Anglo-Saxon period. If I hadn’t lived in Northumberland as a child, perhaps that television documentary would never have resonated with me in the way that it did. But as I look back, I am so pleased that my parents chose to move to Northumberland, as without that experience the seeds for The Serpent Sword might never have found fertile ground in my mind and I’m sure that my life would have been much less interesting and rewarding as a result.

[Review] The Vatican Princess by C.W.Gortner

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For fans of Philippa Gregory and Alison Weir, bestselling author C. W. Gortner effortlessly weaves history and drama in this captivating novel about one of the world’s most notorious families. Glamorous and predatory, the Borgias fascinated and terrorized fifteenth-century Renaissance Italy, and Lucrezia Borgia, beloved daughter of the pope, was at the center of the dynasty’s ambitions. Slandered as a heartless seductress who lured men to their doom, was she in fact the villainess of legend, or was she trapped in a familial web, forced to choose between loyalty and survival?

With the ascension of the Spaniard Rodrigo Borgia as Pope Alexander VI, a new era has dawned in Rome. Benefitting from their father’s elevation are the new pope’s illegitimate children–his rival sons, Cesare and Juan, and beautiful young daughter Lucrezia–each of whom assumes an exalted position in the papal court. Privileged and adored, Lucrezia yearns to escape her childhood and play a part in her family’s fortunes. But Rome is seductive and dangerous: Alliances shift at a moment’s notice as Italy’s ruling dynasties strive to keep rivals at bay. As Lucrezia’s father faces challenges from all sides, the threat of a French invasion forces him to marry her off to a powerful adversary. But when she discovers the brutal truth behind her alliance, Lucrezia is plunged into a perilous gambit that will require all her wits, cunning, and guile. Escaping her marriage offers the chance of happiness with a passionate prince of Naples, yet as scandalous accusations of murder and incest build against her, menacing those she loves, Lucrezia must risk everything to overcome the lethal fate imposed upon her by her Borgia blood.

Beautifully wrought, rich with fascinating historical detail, The Vatican Princess is the first novel to describe Lucrezia’s coming-of-age in her own voice. What results is a dramatic, vivid tale set in an era of savagery and unparalleled splendor, where enemies and allies can be one and the same, and where loyalty to family can ultimately be a curse.

I’ve been sitting on this review for a while, mulling over just how I would put it into words. As you will all know, mainly because I keep harping on about it, I’ve been delving into Borgia novels (and television adaptations) as part of my ongoing research into the Borgia family and how they are portrayed in the modern day media. I was recommended this book on twitter and set about reading it, hoping that it would be a tale that would wow me as much as Sarah Dunant’s fantastic novels.

Suffice to say I was hugely disappointed.

The story itself is a coming of age tale – it’s the story of how Lucrezia Borgia grows from a young, naive girl into a mature and confidant young woman. It goes through her trials and tribulations of growing up in the public eye and her disappointing first marriage. It goes through her relationship with her family – how she was close to her brother Cesare, and her father, Rodrigo; how she was not close with her mother or her other brother Juan. And I will give it one thing – it’s well written in many ways, making it a quick and easy read.

However, the research that went into this novel is utterly non existent in my opinion. Gortner portrays many characters who were not villains as villains in their own right. Take for example her first husband, Giovanni Sforza. We know from the history that he was a bit of a weak man who proved himself to be less than useful to the Borgia family, but he was certainly no villain. But Gortner makes him out to be an awful human being – and it’s boring. It’s boring and it’s repetitive and it started to become a chore to get through the parts of the story that involved him. And then there is the character of Vanozza who is made out to be a nasty piece of work who cares nothing at all for her family, only for herself. Her character was boring and really quite one dimensional.

And then there are the rumours of incest. Rather than trying to write a novel based on the TRUE story and how the incest was nothing more than rumour, Gortner wrote the rumours into the story. And not in a good way. Not to spoil it for anyone, but there is a rather horrendous scene in which Juan forces himself upon his sister. That and he twisted the existence of the Infans Romanus into being fathered by Juan. Many of you will probably say “It’s just a novel, what does it matter?” but in all honesty it made me feel really quite sick to read it.

Novels such as this are often stepping stones into history but, like with television dramatisations, they are often treated as fact. It doesn’t help that in the authors notes at the back, he says that Rodrigo Borgia was killed by poison. This has never been proven and in fact was more likely to be malarial fever, which was rampant in Rome at the time of his death. To make out such things are fact is incredibly sloppy.

Despite this book being well written, I would not recommend this novel at all. It turns Lucrezia’s story into a rather trashy soap opera, twisting the rumours to suit the plot of the story. It’s certainly not one I’ll be going back to.