I have been reading The Other Boleyn Girl by Phillipa Gregory for my bookclub, which meets on Saturday. As this book is almost 700 pages, and I was only on page 450-something as of yesterday, I had to make a big push to get through 150 pages last night.
Big mistake. I had dreams all night that I was Anne Boleyn, living in the 21st century, going around to various fertility doctors for treatment (involving injections and X-rays and ultrasound) so that I could bear Henry VIII's heir. At one point, I was yelling at doctors: "You don't understand!! If I don't have a baby, he will kill me!! Literally!!"
The book is good. It isn't really historically accurate, which bothers me. And I realize that is petty because the book is FICTION. I do like the dynamic between the sisters, and the idea that, while they were compatriots, they were also rivals. It is an interesting angle from which to approach the historical events of this period in English history. But STILL. Someone out there is going to read this book and think that Mary Boleyn was the manipulated baby of the family, when in fact, she was the oldest of the three and basically did a lot of that stuff on her own and THEN some.
One thing I have learned from this experience is understanding now why my college Renaissance history professor got so mad when students used Shakespeare's history plays to explain historical events. Henry V did not go to war with France over some tennis balls; you learned it here.
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