So much has been written about England's Tudor dynasty that duplication is inevitable. Historians and historical novelists are hard put to find new angles. Henry VIII has been analysed every which way. There is no way of getting around the fact that he had six wives, ordering two to be decapitated.
This came about because they couldn't conceive a son. His determination to have one was a bit odd because, unlike in a number of kingdoms, daughters were permitted to become queens. Yet for millennia it was commonly believed that females were inferior to males, mentally as well as physically.
It occurred to popular British historical writer Philippa Gregory that the sisters of Henry (Harry) weren't getting the attention they deserved by serious authors. Her Three Sisters, Three Queens goes a long way to addressing this. More accurately, the title should read "Two Sisters, a Sister-in-Law: Three Queens".
The two sisters were Margaret and Mary, full-blooded English. Katherine was Spanish, and came to London to wed their elder brother, Arthur. They were the Princess and Prince of Wales, to be crowned when his father, Henry Tudor, passed away. His younger brother, Harry, was just a royal.
Margaret is the first person storyteller. She and Katherine didn't get along, growing to despise each other. They became queens: Margaret of Scotland, Mary of France, Katherine of England, when Arthur died and Harry took his place. Gregory notes the similarities in their lives.
Arranged marriages, unhappiness, widowed or divorced. Margaret and Mary remarried. Harry manipulated their lives for political reasons. Changing sides was the rule, conspiring and double-dealing the order of the day. They were kept pregnant, ruining their health, few male offspring surviving.
Anne Boleyn brought about Katherine's downfall. Male enemies brought about Margaret's and Mary's. The years range from 1501-33. The settings are English and Scottish castles and palaces, with medieval-style dialogue.
The fairy-tale prince and princess living happily ever after is blown out of the water. People drank wine in the absence of fresh water. Bathing was all but unknown for the same reason. Plagues took their toll. Yet life went on. Everything that happened was God's will.
The Bitter Season by Tami Hoag Orion 410pp Available at Asia Books and leading bookshops 350 baht
Vengeance murders
Police call old unsolved murders cold cases, but that doesn't mean that they are forgotten. The perpetrator is still out there and may have the means to kill others. As they may well have a particular way of despatching their victims, profilers call it their MO (method of operation).
Then again, veteran cops with long memories make the connection. Whereupon the cold cases are dusted off and reinvestigated. The problem being that a number of key figures -- possible witnesses, suspects, police -- have passed away. Or the police department is overworked with current cases.
Nevertheless, they aren't forgotten. Computers have files on them. And crime novelists occasionally pen stories about actual or imaginary old crimes. The fictional ones might be based on real ones, with the scriveners giving their own solution to the case.
The best example is Patricia Cornwell persuasively pointing the finger at Jack the Ripper across the ocean a century later.
Tami Hoag is yet another example of women being as prolific as men at writing crime thrillers. Nikki Liska and Sam Kovac are her literary creations, police detectives in Minneapolis, Minnesota. She has wet-nursed them through over 30 books. The plots are suspenseful, and the cops always get their man.
Or woman. One is as likely to commit a crime as the other, and no less violently. The character most under suspicion for much of the story isn't the murderer. Which is the invariable twist. Readers are not supposed to know this iron rule.
In The Bitter Season, an elderly couple were butchered in their home 20 years ago, decapitated, genitals removed. Lots of blood, no clues. Like similar murders, the weapon used was apparently a Samurai sword. The East Asian female teacher with such a collection? Forget it. She dies, too.
Keep your eye on the baby given away for adoption to abusive mates. It takes Nikki and Sam a while to make the connection to the monster seeking vengeance.
This reviewer could do without the coincidences, yet it would be too much to say that I don't believe in them. Yes, The Bitter Season lives up to its hype. Happily, no photographs accompany her vivid descriptions of murder scenes. Axes sure make a mess.
