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 Ten year old Margaret Beaufort wants to devote her life to prayer, perhaps becoming an abbess in the process, since she can’t ride to the glory of her country like Joan of Arc. As she grows and gives birth to a son at the age of 13, though, Margaret realizes that she is called to a different purpose, to put her son on the throne of England. Through three marriages and countless smiles of false loyalty, Margaret never loses sight of her goal, even when it drives away all the people who might once have loved her.
Once again, Philippa Gregory has written a book which has me a little bit torn. It didn’t start off well. I didn’t believe Margaret Beaufort would idolize Joan of Arc. As far as I’m aware, English people at the time merely thought of Joan as an heretic, when they thought of her at all. I severely doubt a ten year old girl would have ever even heard of her, let alone decided she wanted to be her. And it got worse when she believed her pregnancy was of paramount importance to England. The wars were starting, yes, but the king had a son, and even if he didn’t the Yorkists had a better claim since they weren’t descended from a line specifically NOT allowed to take the throne. Henry did become the Lancastrian claimant, but only because literally every other choice was dead.
Perhaps those are not on the strict factual side like dates, but they stuck out and annoyed me, so I figured I’d include them; they both do enhance the story, so I can’t really blame her. After that, the plot improved significantly and I didn’t land on anything else that had me really irritated. I seriously cannot read a book about the Wars of the Roses without picking something out that I don’t like or think is inaccurate – so others are free to ignore my complaints and/or dispute me as they like.
Secondly, Margaret annoyed me beyond belief. Her stance of declaring her whole life preordained by God, her coldness and selfishness – not at all in line with a woman who truly deserved to be called by God – had me pretty much crossing my fingers that Gregory would change history just so Henry could not become king of England. I wanted to smack her so she would show some sort of emotion besides cold-hearted ambition. The author did not succeed in making her a sympathetic character in any way.
Negativity aside, though, this was actually quite an enjoyable book to read. It read quickly and was surprisingly exciting, especially since Margaret saw hardly any action herself. She’s also a bit of a rare subject for a novel, so I actually enjoyed seeing things from her point of view even if I did want to punch her most of the time. In fact, she fit my previous perceptions of her pretty closely. Much as I wanted her to become sympathetic, it’s hard to imagine that woman who had some sort of kindness in her could turn into the Margaret Beaufort who later moved into the palace with Henry VII. The fact that I could actually enjoy reading a book about such an irritating woman is perhaps a testament to the fact that Gregory can tell a story well.
If you enjoy historical fiction, I do believe you will enjoy The Red Queen. Gregory does a good job bringing history alive and even the changes she makes that have me annoyed do fit the context of the story. I wouldn’t say I enjoyed this one quite as much as The White Queen, but I would recommend both.
In conjunction with the Simon & Schuster UK blog tour, I have five copies of this book to give away to UK and Ireland residents! If you’d like to enter, please fill out the form below. The giveaway is open until midnight UK time Monday August 16th.
I am an Amazon Associate. I received this book for free for review from the publisher.
 Lenah Beaudonte can’t stand the cruelty and sadness of being a vampire; she longs to be human again. With the sacrifice of her lifetime love, Rhode, Lenah’s dream comes true, and she awakens a sixteen-year-old human who, like every other teenager, must go to school and make friends. Lenah has been asleep for 100 years and as a result, needs to learn quite a few things about the twenty-first century; she has never listened to a CD, seen a vehicle, or used a computer. She’s also in danger, as her coven will be looking for her just one month after she awakens. Can she become human enough in that time to avoid their detection?
I liked the concept of this book a lot better than I liked its execution. The vampires in Maizel’s world all long to be human, and when they cease longing for it, they go mad and must be killed. People are rarely turned of their own free will for this reason, and are instead enraptured by a vampire’s charm, which isn’t always the case in other paranormal books I’ve read recently. While vampires have supernatural senses, they lose a lot of their human feelings and become angry, vicious creatures; they’re seductive but they won’t be having relationships with human beings any time soon.
I think in large part the reason I didn’t enjoy this book as much as I might have is that it felt a little too melodramatic for my mood. It’s somewhat deservedly melodramatic; life is actually at stake quite a lot of the time, and Lenah has reasons to feel that way. It just felt very teenage to me in a way I didn’t like; in fact, I’m beginning to wonder if a lot of this vampire-y romance-y YA isn’t for me just because it does feel teenage, and I’d prefer not to remember feeling like everything was the end of the world. It may make romance seem more breath-taking, but I think I prefer relationships that don’t feel like they’re about to end any second – in life and in reading.
It also bugged me just a little bit that of course Lenah falls in love with the big, blond jock, who only likes her because she’s beautiful. Perhaps he learns later on, but I never really felt like he did, and actually never liked him much at all; how much sweeter would the book have been if she’d instead chosen Tony, her Japanese friend? Once again, the minority ended up the sidekick and the heroine fell in love with the hunky white guy. I have to confess I was disappointed, even though I read it would happen right on the back cover.
Also, I must admit that I was wondering where on earth the name Lenah came from in fifteenth century England. Let’s not mention Rhode. I’ve never seen anyone with those names in any of the reading I’ve done, and no medieval English person would get an award for baby name creativity. I had to tell myself they’d changed their names when they became vampires, because in real life they would probably have been Anne and Edward. I’d love to know if the author got these names from somewhere and if so, where, just for my own edification.
I am just about the only person who didn’t fall in love with Infinite Days. It was a good story, but I just didn’t manage to enjoy it as much as I thought I should have. Here are a few more reviews so you can form your own opinion:
I am an Amazon Associate. I received this book for free for review from the publisher.
 Four women at crucial times in their lives find themselves joining together to form a catering business. Ellie is a Junior League wife and mother, confused about where her marriage is heading; Daisy is a vivacious, young single mother who has struggled along trying to provide for her clever, nerdy daughter; Cat, the only childless member of the group, has just been dumped by the boyfriend who previously defined her life; and Josephine, a woman looking to do her best at founding a business. Together, these women form the Jelly Jar sisterhood and aim for success and happiness above all else.
I’ll be honest; this book was a bit of a perfect storm of things I didn’t like. With that in mind though, it’s worth noting that I have recently liked books with large women’s fiction components (although I’d say this is a very light version of that), Christian characters, and set in the present. So I can get on all with all the elements of this book, but set up like this it just didn’t work for me.
I can start by expressing disappointment with the characters. The narration switches around between them and I can tell you that they are so indistinct that I didn’t notice until I realized one didn’t have kids and the others did. They all sound exactly the same. I didn’t pay attention to the chapter headings, but I never do, so I guess you could call it my fault, but that doesn’t fix the fact that only Daisy is at all different from the other three women in tone. In fact she was the only woman who had anything close to an interesting life or personality.
I also didn’t really feel like the story went anywhere. Jelly Jar stayed at about the same level; nothing was really gained by the end of the book except a friendship that was a little too, well, sweet. It felt unrealistic. Each woman had her own problems, but not much really changed by the end of the book. Even the couple that was in serious relationship trouble merely goes to counseling, and we don’t even read about their decision to do so, we’re just told about it.
Then there was the Christianity, which was too heavy for my tastes. I won’t go into detail, but I will say that I remember the last Christian fiction book I read, The Red Siren, with a lot more fondness than I’ll remember this one. I’d happily read more in that series; I would prefer not to read any more in this one.
I hesitated to post this review because it is so negative. Others have enjoyed this book a lot more than I have. In the end I decided it was worth getting my voice out there. If you do enjoy Christian fiction about women’s friendships, you may enjoy How Dolly Parton Saved My Life.
I am an Amazon Associate. I purchased this book.
 Empress Wu was the first woman in Chinese history to become a reigning empress. Getting there wasn’t easy; as a lower concubine, which she became at the age of 13, Wu was little more than a servant, and would have been banished to a convent forever on the death of Emperor Taizong. Luckily for her, she encountered his son Gaozong before his death, and Gaozong became enamored with her, taking her from the convent and eventually replacing his current empress with her. With that mission accomplished, Wu set forth on her goal to achieve recognition for herself and, in some ways, for all Chinese women; her methods may have been brutal, but so was the time in which she lived.
Anyone who thinks the Tudors are exciting and scandalous should try on the 7th century Chinese for a change! I was frankly amazed at all the drama, scandal, and murder that went on in this court and over the course of the book. It’s fairly well documented but even so, I’m quite shocked that other people can treat each other so badly and not really seem to notice. This book was nothing short of exciting, especially for non-fiction; it’s no wonder that Wu’s life has been depicted in writing and in film a number of times over the years.
I didn’t know too much about Wu to start with; I had never read anything about her, but after I finished Under Heaven I set out looking for non-fiction about the same time period. This is set a number of years before, but the events herein had a large impact on the following history, so I just went with this book. Let me tell you, my interest in Chinese history is properly rewarding. Wu was a completely fascinating woman and I’m surprised that we have so much information on someone who lived so long ago. I can place her nicely in the context of Europe and I’m amazed at how different the cultures are.
I was also surprised at how many things were the same in China as they would be in the late nineteenth century. Now, I haven’t read any non-fiction about that period yet, but just from reading Empress Orchid I recognized the huge palaces, the tropes of different levels of concubines with different names brought in purposely to please the emperor, the huge amount of ceremonial events, and of course the endless intrigue.
What I loved most about this book, however, was easily Clements’s even-handed treatment of Wu and all of her cronies. Yes, she did some pretty terrible things; there were some more terrible things she might have done or her relatives might have done under her name; and then there were good things that she did. For example, she murdered the Empress before her and a rival concubine by drowning them in wine after dismembering them. She also may have conveniently offed her kids. That’s pretty bad, and I don’t think anyone is going to absolve her of those crimes. But she also raised the profile of women by increasing the mourning time for mothers and insisting on incorporating female halves of traditionally male ceremonies. Yes, she was ruthless and furthered her own ambitions, but she also did her part to make women important, too.
I also loved at the end how Clements stepped back and looked at Wu’s behavior in light of other, male emperors, and came to the conclusion that she behaved similarly to them. She had lots of lovers, she killed her enemies, but China prospered under her rule. Men who behaved just like that were regarded as heroes, while she has been regularly vilified throughout history. Is it just because a woman had the daring to act like a man?
I don’t know, but I like historians who question prejudice about women. Murder is never a good thing, but should a woman be condemned for it more than a man? I don’t think so.
Anyway, I’ll just conclude by highly recommending Wu. I think the subtitle (the Chinese empress who schemed, seduced, and murdered her way to become a living God) isn’t so good, but the book itself is just excellent.
I am an Amazon Associate. I borrowed this book from my local library – but you can bet I’ll be buying this guy’s other books.
 Shoko, a young Japanese girl, is uncertain of her future in Japan; she is clever, but she can’t get very far without marrying someone of her class. She and her father eventually decide that she should marry an American, so when she starts dating Charlie, the decision to marry is an easy one. Years later, Shoko suffers from the same ailment that killed her sister, an enlarged heart. Uncertain of how long she has left, Shoko longs to return to Japan and make amends with her family, but the doctor deems her too unwell. Instead, her daughter Sue, with whom she has always had difficulties, heads off to find them for her, learning much more than she would have expected about her mother in the process.
I was a little wary of this book when I started, simply because I wasn’t sure if it was for me. Similar books have ended up with me disliking them, and despite near universal praise I thought I might not like this one either. I was completely wrong, though; the power of Dilloway’s storytelling swept me away and I got completely caught up in Sue and Shoko’s individual stories.
As always, though, my favorite part was that set in Japan during Shoko’s youth. I always prefer the historical fiction over the modern day part of stories. It frustrated me that her intelligence couldn’t get her anywhere, that she had to marry because that was simply what young girls did. She worked, but it was clear there was no path for her. I was also fascinated by her motivations in marrying Charlie – overall, I thought this section was just really well done.
I also found the relationship between Shoko and Sue to be completely believable. I could easily understand how Sue resented her mother and the way her childhood had been different from everyone else’s, but saw how much she still cared for her. Their relationship felt very real to me and though I haven’t experienced that particular one, I think any pair of mothers and daughters could see something of themselves in their bond. Sue’s discovery of her mother’s past in detail – things that they’d never discussed – was also a fantastic journey of discovery, made even better by the fact that her daughter went along, too.
This was also a quick, delightful read, with nice even turns of phrase and nothing to really distract the reader from its central mother-daughter storyline. I did find that it even had a bit of suspense, as after Shoko’s heart surgery the book switches to Sue’s perspective and we have no idea what’s happened to Shoko. It added tension to her discoveries and gave the book an edge of unpredictability when the rest of it was fairly straightforward.
How to Be an American Housewife was a speedy read that really engaged all of my emotions. I would highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys women’s fiction or historical fiction on post-World War II Japan.
I am an Amazon Associate. I received this book for free from the LibraryThing Early Reviewers program.
 There are more things in Australia that can kill you than anywhere else, so how could Bill Bryson ever keep away from writing a travel memoir about the country? In his travels from coast to coast and several places in between, Bryson both entertains and informs us about a place that, for its size and place in the world, we know surprisingly little about.
Bill Bryson is a delightful writer and I almost wish I’d discovered him sooner! Down Under is my first proper travel book by him and I can’t tell you how eager I am to read more. It’s true that I know very little about Australia, so much of the information he shared was completely new to me. In my job, I’ve done some writing about Australia, but mainly about tourism; it was fascinating to have the historical perspective given to me so I could set it aside my knowledge of the country’s more hospitable places.
My favorite parts of the memoir were generally when he was exploring the middle, largely uninhabitable parts of the country. It’s hard to believe just how many expeditions were launched there – and equally hard to believe that the Australians haven’t managed to spread across such a vast amount of land. Yet with Bryson writing, I could feel the dust and the heat and I am pretty sure I now know why no one really wants to live there; not only is it far from every amenity but there’s truly no purpose to eking a life out in such difficult conditions.
I like that Bryson seems to travel in the same way that I do; I’d struggle to really identify with someone who does things I’d never experience. As it is, Australia is expensive, and I won’t go there for years if ever, so I could almost feel like I was experiencing things through his eyes. He chats with people, visits monuments that I’d visit, and at the same time shares the fascinating history and culture of the country. I can’t imagine a better honorary tour guide. I wouldn’t have minded some pictures, but he writes well enough that I could picture the locations in my head – or just look online, as I did several times – easily enough.
What truly disturbed me overall was the treatment of native Australians – a problem that lies more with the Australian government than with Bryson. I was appalled to learn about the Stolen Generations and even more saddened to discover that many Aboriginal Australians drift through life, missing out on schools and jobs or any parts of modern life. It’s even sadder to hear the way that white Australians have simply given up and don’t know what to do about it. I almost wish Bryson had brought this more to the forefront of the book, rather than asking about it occasionally and being stymied, but I’m not sure what else he could have done, especially not if he aimed to keep the tone of the rest of the book light and funny as he did.
Anyway, I thought Down Under was an excellent read. It certainly helped me get a broader picture of Australia and educated me in some senses at the same time. I can’t wait to read more by Bill Bryson.
In the US, this book is titled In a Sunburned Country. I am an Amazon Associate. I borrowed this book from my local library.
 Ivy Lockwell is one of three sisters, living in a fading house with her mother and ailing father. Without her around, it’s likely that her family would fall apart, but it’s also essential that the three girls marry; that’s because when their mother dies, their house will go to an odious cousin. Ivy’s father has been ill for some time now, and everyone but Ivy believes it’s due to his excessive magick use. Ivy is convinced that if she can find the spell to reverse the damage, she can cure her father; the little notes that he left her around the house encourage her in her quest. When she takes a job with the mysterious Mr Quent, Ivy begins to realize that the problem with magick isn’t just confined to her family, and that she might have deadlier enemies than she’d ever supposed.
This was such a charming book in so many ways. Ivy and her family are absolutely wonderful characters. Each of them has his or her own distinctive personality and the viewpoint switches around frequently enough that I could get to know several of them. The entire book is pervaded with a nice feel of fantasy, mystery, and at times romance. The plot is nicely twisty and turny for the most part, and even though I wasn’t entirely kept guessing throughout the book, it completely held my attention. I loved the fantasy world, with its variations on daylight and peculiar version of magick; I was really eager to figure out how it all fit together.
What I really loved about it, though, was the fact that this felt to me like a love letter to two of my favorite authors, Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte. Sections of both authors’ books are recalled in a variety of ways, and even the prose style feels like it could very well belong in the nineteenth century in particular. I loved reading the echoes of Jane Eyre in the middle section of the novel in particular. It was like reading a few of my favorite novels with magic included, and to be honest, for me you can’t get much better than that. I have read several reviews which complain that it isn’t original enough, but I’d disagree with that. The rest of the book was enchanting in its own right, and such an homage to the classics simply made it better.
Honestly, this was just another of those books that perfectly suited me. A bookish protagonist, echoes of my favorite authors, a lovely subtle romance, and a wonderful fantasy world to back it all up left me a very happy girl. The Magicians and Mrs. Quent may not be for everyone, but it was definitely for me. I am eagerly awaiting the sequel, which is releasing next month, and I only hope that it’s as delightful a read as this was.
I am an Amazon Associate. I purchased this book.
 Jean-Dominique Bauby was an active, robust family man and editor of French Elle when at the age of forty-three he was brought low by a rare stroke of the brain stem. After his stroke, he remained in a coma for months, and when he woke he suffered from locked in syndrome. This is a condition when a person’s thought processes are still intact and fully functioning, but his or her body is unable to communicate those thoughts. In Bauby’s case, he could still blink an eyelid to share his thoughts, but to be honest, that’s close enough. Before his death, Bauby dictated this, his memoir, letter by letter with blinks.
This is a heartbreaking book and I don’t know how to review it. It can’t really be a review, because how can you review such a thing? It’s impossible not to feel for this man who had his life stolen from him so dramatically and so quickly. He describes how, just before his accident, he was caring for his elderly father, who could no longer leave his flat, comparing how he was being shaved to the way he shaved his father. They both expected the elder man to die first – neither realised then just how fragile life could be.
Bauby distills his life into a series of minutiae that none of us ever think of; how happy he’d be if he could just swallow his saliva or be able to tell whether his limbs are hot or cold. The huge effect that an indifferent nurse can have – whether they’ll ignore his frantic eyeblinks or try to work out what he wants, whether it’s just the television on or a more serious problem. The last day of his normal life has taken on a surreal significance, of course; he takes us through it step by step.
What I think amazed me most about the book was that he maintained his good humor, his compassion, and all the best of his human spirit. He’s understandably a little bitter, but he never turns the memoir into an outlet for complaints; all of his observations are tinged with humor. Most of all what struck me was his determined efforts to get better. It seems that brain stems do occasionally heal, but do so at a snail’s pace. He was working on making noises with his mouth again. Devastatingly, the poor man died two days after this book was published, and all his goals herein left me with a sense of both sadness and wonder, that a man so betrayed by his own body could continue to hope that it would serve him well again one day.
If nothing else, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly will leave you with a lasting appreciation for your own life, for your ability to speak and walk and laugh. I can’t imagine how heartless you’d have to be to walk out on a frantically blinking patient after reading this book – I’m not a nurse and wouldn’t like to be, but even so it made me think about how I treat others and how I’d like to be treated. This is such a worthy, if sad, book, which should be read by all.
I am an Amazon Associate. I purchased this book.
 Georgina Jackson is a serious, literary writer – which is her world means she’s writing quality stuff, but sales are low and people are uninterested. Though her first novel was a success by those standards, she’s struggling with book number two and has no idea whether she’ll be able to stay in her beloved England after her research money runs out. So when her agent pitches her as the ideal writer to complete a Jane Austen book based on a single chapter, Georgina knows she can’t do it – especially because she hasn’t ever read a single book by Jane Austen – but she capitulates anyway because she desperately needs the money.
I liked a lot of things about this book. For one thing, I can completely understand an American in love with England, especially London. I’m a ridiculous Anglophile myself and I could completely identify with Georgina’s longing to stay. I nodded my head every time she listed all the wonderful things she’d miss about England – and as she travels a bit searching for inspiration, I recognized the places she went and I could just feel the appeal coming through the book’s pages.
I also am a huge fan of Jane Austen – I love her work and I often get annoyed that people fail to see more than the romances which make up her books’ plotlines. (Seriously, why do we always dismiss things the minute we learn they’re romantic?) As she wanders the streets and bumps into all the people who are crazy about Jane Austen, Georgina listens to their conversations about the books and can’t understand why everyone cares. I was clamoring for her to just read them for herself – nothing irritates me more than someone who disdains a book without trying to read it first – but in the end I found I really liked her slow discovery of the books’ appeal. The author really got into how fabulous Austen’s books are and it formed a crucial part of the story; she had plenty of opportunities to explain just why her books have universal appeal even now.
I did think Georgina herself was annoying for most of the book, though; I’m not really the type of person who can understand constant procrastination with deadlines looming, so I just wanted her to sit down and write a book already. I’m no author but I can pretty reliably sit down and force out a couple thousand words a day; if she’d just done that from the start, she might have had something she could have worked with. And then there was her refusal to even read Jane Austen for pages on end, and her snobbery, despite the fact that she goes on trips to get into the proper atmosphere. She improved by the end in terms of openness, especially with a couple of sweet romantic interludes, but overall I had trouble understanding her and thus couldn’t really identify with her. The secondary characters were particularly charming, especially Henry and his 14 year old runaway sister, and did help to lessen the annoyance I felt with Georgina.
While the main character got on my nerves, I still found Writing Jane Austen to be a wonderful book in many ways. I think it would be perfectly suited to someone who loves Jane Austen or just loves England and London in particular.
I am an Amazon Associate. I received this book for free for review.
 Miss Kate Daltry’s life hasn’t been great since her father died. Since her stepmother Mariana cares nothing for their estate, nor for her, she’s had to take everything into her own hands – and when staff are fired, she ends up taking on their jobs. There are few bright spots in her life; she’s never had a London season and can’t imagine where she’d find a husband, nor is she certain that she’d be able to abandon the tenants to Mariana’s whims. When her stepsister is bitten by her pet dog, though, Kate is forced to impersonate her, complete with fiance and bratty dogs, at a ball in a prince’s castle. Little does she expect that she’ll find it so hard to keep up the pretense with Prince Gabriel.
Eloisa James is completely a must-buy author for me. You might recall that I just adored her Desperate Duchesses series, which only got better with each successive volume. While I’m not sure A Kiss at Midnight has the long-term resonance of that six book series with me, it’s still an absolutely delightful story that I thoroughly enjoyed.
Since A Kiss at Midnight is a Cinderella retelling, James chose not to set it in any specific time period so she could stay truer to the fairy tale. Some historical details as a result seem off, but the genuine fairy tale romance feel of the entire book is so worth it. The pages might as well be laced with a bit of pixie dust. I loved recognizing all the little details that are so familiar from a lifetime of variations on Cinderella, and in addition acknowledging a few of the changes the author made to mix it up. For example, the glass slippers aren’t really glass, but rather very thin fabric that is stiff and transparent. For rather obvious reasons, they could only have been worn once.
I loved the romance, too. These characters work so well together – so many of their interactions left me with a smile on my face. They learn to get past their initial misconceptions and truly love one another. I thought it was sweet and genuine. I also really enjoyed Kate’s interactions with her step sister Victoria, who is spoiled but has an extremely kind heart. Kate herself was the star of the show, though, always witty and vulnerable at just the right times. I don’t think she’d fit in at any time period that this book could have been set in, but that’s okay, because she doesn’t have to. As usual, I loved the literary references that the author threw in. She’s a professor of literature and I think it’s these touches that both add romance and make her books really stand out to me.
While this book may not have the emotional impact of, in particular, A Duke of Her Own, it was still an outstanding romance novel. I cherished the time I spent reading it, and if you enjoy sweet, fairy tale romances with a little bit of heat, this book is certainly for you.
It also has a gorgeous cover, doesn’t it?
I am an Amazon Associate. I purchased this book.
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