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| where guests can have their say about... anything they want! |
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| Judith Arnopp |
When I sat down to write A Matter of Conscience; Henry VIII. The Aragon Years, I didn’t want to make him a monster but neither did I want to portray him squeaky clean and saintly. That would probably be impossible. I just wanted to probe inside his head - yuck!. It is one thing taking an exterior view of a man like Henry, but events appear quite differently when seen from his perspective. He is of course, an unreliable narrator, retelling his own story from his own point of view and constantly shifting blame. We all do that to some extent. It is up to the reader to decide just how much of Henry’s revelation is true.
His portraits reveal a strong man, a man in control but the fabulous clothes were as much a fiction as the Arthurian tales he so enjoyed. It is highly unlikely Henry dressed in such magnificence on a day-to-day basis, the portraits show him dressed in his court clothes - they were a statement of power. Henry might have been powerful, but he was also vulnerable, easily manipulated, and sentimental.
When he ascended the throne, he expected his life would be perfect and when it turned out to be anything but, he couldn’t cope. The realisation that he was not a ‘perfect prince’ slowly eroded his promise. When he looked in his mirror, the man he saw was blemished, imperfect, flawed and he spent his life trying to hide from that fact.
After the death of his brother, Henry was given a short, sharp education on kingship. He was taught the essential importance of sons. The lesson was drummed into him. His primary duty was to beget an heir and other sons to reinforce the Tudor line. Henry knew from experience that heirs could die. Had his brother, Arthur, lived Henry would never have become king; had he not been around to replace Arthur, the Tudor regime would have ended before it had properly begun.
As soon as Henry and Catherine of Aragon were crowned their quest for a son began. Up to this point Henry was a stranger to failure. He had known only success, had received only praise and the failure of Catherine’s first pregnancy came as a great shock. The death of their infant son a short time later was devastating, the subsequent unsuccessful pregnancies or stillbirths shook him to the core. He hid it well but the failure to quickly beget a son undermined his confidence. The only successful pregnancy resulted in Mary but in those days, a daughter was not enough. Women did not rule. Even if she married and bore sons, those children would not bear the Tudor name and the perpetuation of the Tudor dynasty was paramount. Henry had failed in his most important duty as king.
Nobody likes to think themselves a failure, but it must have been far more difficult for a man like Henry. Finding it impossible to blame himself, he laid the blame on Catherine, the wife he loved the longest.
In A Matter of Conscience, failure and self-disappointment blight the perfect prince and sets him on the path to becoming the embittered king we all love to hate.
The story will continue in Book Two of The Henrician Chronicle.
A lifelong history enthusiast and avid reader, Judith holds a BA in English/Creative writing and an MA in Medieval Studies.
She lives on the coast of West Wales where she writes both fiction and non-fiction based in the Medieval and Tudor period. Her focus is on the perspective of historical women but more recently is writing from the perspective of Henry VIII himself.
Her novels include:
A Matter of Conscience: the Aragon Years
The Heretic Wind: the life of Mary Tudor, Queen of England
Sisters of Arden: on the Pilgrimage of Grace
The Beaufort Bride: Book one of The Beaufort Chronicle
The Beaufort Woman: Book two of The Beaufort Chronicle
The King’s Mother: Book three of The Beaufort Chronicle
The Winchester Goose: at the Court of Henry VIII
A Song of Sixpence: the story of Elizabeth of York
Intractable Heart: the story of Katheryn Parr
The Kiss of the Concubine: a story of Anne Boleyn
The Song of Heledd
The Forest Dwellers
Peaceweaver
Judith is also a founder member of a re-enactment group called The Fyne Companye of Cambria and makes historical garments both for the group and others. She is not professionally trained but through trial, error and determination has learned how to make authentic looking, if not strictly HA, clothing. You can find her group Tudor Handmaid on Facebook. You can also find her on Twitter and Instagram.
Webpage: www.judithmarnopp.com
Author page: author.to/juditharnoppbooks
Blog: http://juditharnoppnovelist.blogspot.co.uk/
I am not a fan of Henry VIII, in fact I think he was a monster - BUT - reading your article, Judith, has made me consider him in a slightly different light. I guess the lad needed some serious helpful counselling from people around him who were not grabbing for their own power. I suppose he should be pitied rather than condemned? (For the record I hate Duke William of Normandy far more! LOL)
ReplyDeleteha ha! So do I, Helen! As much as I try to be objective about historical figures, I cannot abide William. I do think Henry wanted very much to be a noble king and he was very likeable as a young man. Failure is always sad and it is sadder to know oneself a failure. Thank you so much for hosting me x
ReplyDeleteMy pleasure Judith. Henry VIII would make a good alternative history story wouldn't he?
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