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To be a little different from the usual
'meet the author'
'meet the author'
let's meet a
character...
Queen Emma of Saxon England
from
character...
Queen Emma of Saxon England
from
Q: Hello, I’m Helen, host of Novel Conversations, please do make yourself
comfortable. Would you like a drink? Tea, coffee, wine – something stronger?
You’ll find a box of chocolates and a bowl of fruit on the table next to you,
please do help yourself. I believe you are a character in Helen Hollick’s novel A Hollow Crown (titled The Forever Queen in the USA) The Would you like to introduce yourself? Are you a lead
character or a supporting role?
A:
Good morrow. I have not heard of tea, coffee or chocolate. I assume these are
some form of foreign consumables? I will try the tea, and perhaps a chocolate... [eats one] or two ... I am, indeed, the lead character in the novel you mention, although I am also a
real figure from history. I am Emma of Normandy, Queen of England in the
eleventh century.
Q: What genre is the novel and what is it about?
A:
I believe it is termed historical biographical fiction. The facts of my
life when I was Queen of England with fictional additions to fill in the many gaps. I find it very annoying that the scribes of my time did not
elaborate more on the events of my life but, [sighs] it was the monks who wrote
these things, and alas they did not believe women to be as important as the
men. [Snorts derision] Huh – where would the men have been without us?
Q:
No spoilers, but are you a ‘goodie’ or a ‘baddie’? (Or maybe you are both?)
A:
I suppose that depends on which
viewpoint you take. My enemies, one of whom was my own son, would say I was an
interfering witch. Others would say I was a fair but good queen. [shrugs] I
tried my best.
Q:
Tell me about another character in
the novel – maybe your best friend, lover or partner … or maybe your arch
enemy!
A:
Cnut, King of England, my second
husband, I loved beyond imagination. I
loathed my first, Æthelred – God’s breath but he was a useless king and a useless
husband. My son, Edward, took after him in every inch of character, which is
why, I suppose, we did not get on. As for my enemy though – ah she has to be that
bitch Ælfgifu of Northampton. First wife
to my dear Cnut and mother to that wretched bastard Harold Harefoot. Is it any
surprise that I name her? She ordered the blinding of my other son, Alfred. The poor, foolish, lamb died in agony of his wounds. And then she was behind the stealing
of my son Harthacnut’s crown – usurping his place to put that wretch Harefoot
on the throne of England. [She smiles with a hint of triumph] Such a pity he
died unexpectedly after only a few years of his reign!
Q:
Is this the only novel you have appeared in, or are there others in a
series?
A: I was in the second book of the duo – although Mistress
Hollick wrote the second one first. This was her novel about Harold Godwineson and
the events that led to the Battle of Hastings in 1066. I played an important
part in the first half of the book as mother of Edward – why he became known as 'The Confessor' in later years I have never understood. 'Edward the Useless' or 'Edward the Impotent' would
be more appropriate.
Q:
What is one of your least favourite scenes you appear in?
A: There are quite a few, some that sadden me greatly,
some that as greatly make my blood rise with anger. One is how it all began, the
day I arrived in the English town of Canterbury and saw for the first time the man who was to be my
husband. I was but ten and three years of age. He was old
enough to be my grandfather.
Q:
And your favourite scene?
A: I have several of those as well, some out of mere fondness, some
out of the memory of happiness and love.
I will tell you of one that terrified yet excited me in equal measure: the day
I made my mind that England could afford no more war, when London was in imminent danger of falling to the besieging Danes. I was a widow, my sons had
been sent to safety in Normandy. Cnut, the King of Denmark would become King of
England, whether I, my people, liked it or no. I had to stop the bloodshed. [Emma’s
eyes shine, her breath quickens at the memory] I went to talk with Cnut in his
encampment. I had a proposition, one which, I think, surprised him to the
core. I suggested that to be a good, beloved King of England he had to fear God,
rule well and become more English than the English.
“And how am I to do that?” he had asked.
I recall feeling sick to my stomach, fighting the
urge to run at the thought of what I was about to say, do...
“By making me your wife,” I said.
In hindsight, these were the best, dearest words I
had ever spoken.
Q: Tell me a little about your author. Has she written any other
books?
A: Oh many. A trilogy about King Arthur, the one I
mention above, and an adventure series about a rogue of a pirate. Visit her
website or take a look at this ‘blog’ do you call it?
Q:
Is your author working on anything else at the moment?
A: Yes, she’s trying to get the sixth of her pirate
nautical adventures written, and a few entertaining short stories.
Q:
How do you think authors can be helped or supported by readers or groups?
What does your author think is the most useful for her personally?
A: Nice reviews on the place called Amazon (is it a
place of worship? I hear people tend to revere or curse it?) And word of mouth – to tell friends and
family about good books worth reading. Hers especially.
Q: If your author was to host a dinner party what guests would
she invite
and why? Real, imaginary, alive or dead..
I think she would invite fictional people, ones she has met and liked in
novels.
Susan Grossey's Mrs and Constable Sam Plank - because Martha is lovely and Sam is so kind
and sensible
Anna Belfrage's Matthew and Alex Graham – because Alex is a time traveller
and she is fascinating
Aurelia, Carina and Conrad from Roma Nova by Alison Morton, because they are intriguing
characters.
4The Walker family from Swallows and Amazons, to see what they are like as adults.
Jill Crewe from ‘Jill’s Gymkhana’, to talk horses and see how she turned out in
adulthood as well!
Merlin from Mary Stewart’s Crystal Cave
Sophie and Hector from Debbie Young's Sophie Sayers Mysteries because they are such fun (despite the murders in the village!) - and Helen needs to persuade Hector to stock all the above books in his bookshop.
One real person, sadly deceased: RosemarySutcliff because she is probably the best historical fiction writer ever
Thank
you Emma, it
was a pleasure talking to you. Would your author like to add a short excerpt? But meanwhile, would you like more tea?
Emma: No thank you, I do not think I quite care for the taste, but I would very much like some more chocolate...
EXCERPT A Hollow Crown / The Forever Queen
April 1002 - Canterbury
Emma was uncertain whether it was a growing need to
visit the privy, or the remaining queasiness of mal de mer, seasickness,
that was making her feel so utterly dreadful. Or was it the man waiting at the
top of the steps? The way he was looking at her, with the intensity of a
hunting hawk, that was so unsettling? A man she had never seen until this
moment, who was four and thirty years to her thirteen, spoke a language she
barely understood and who, from the morrow, was to be her wedded husband.
Spring.
Three days after the celebration of the Easter Mass, in the year of Christ
1002. Her brother had agreed this marriage of alliance between England and his
Duchy of Normandy for reasons of his own gain. Richard ruled Normandy, and his
brood of sisters, with an iron will that imaged their father's ruthless
determination. Their father, Richard's namesake, Emma had adored. Her brother,
who thought only of his self-advancement, and little else, she did not.
Her long
fingers, with their bitten, uneven nails, rested with a slight tremble on
Richard's left hand. Unlike her, he appeared calm and unperturbed as they
ascended the flight of stone steps leading up to the great open-swung doors of
the Cathedral of Canterbury. But why would Richard not be at ease? It was not
he, after all, who was to wed with a stranger and be crowned as England's
Queen.
With unbound, unveiled fair hair and her large
shining eyes, Emma was passably pretty, but she was aware that Æthelred,
surveying her from the top of the steps, was assessing that her legs were too
long, her nose too large, her chin too pointed. Her breasts and hips not full
and rounded. Her eldest sister had laughed when Emma had confided that she
feared this Æthelred, King of England, would be disappointed with her. ‘Please
him in bed, ma chérie, and no husband will ever be disappointed with a young
bride!'
Emma had
not been convinced.
The drizzling rain had eased as the Norman entourage
had ridden through Canterbury's gates, the mist, hanging across the Kent
countryside like ill-fitted curtaining, not deterring the common folk from
running out of their hovels to inspect her. England and the English might not
hold much liking for the Normans and their sea-roving Viking cousins, but still
they had laughed and applauded as she rode by; had strewn blossom and spring-green,
new-budded branches in her path. They wanted peace, an end to the incessant i·víking
raiding and pirating, to the killing and bloodshed. If a union between
England and Normandy was the way to achieve it, then God's good blessings be
upon the happy couple.
Whether
this marriage would be of lasting benefit and achieve that ultimate aim, no one
yet knew. The Northmen, with their lust for plunder and going í-víking, were
not easy to dissuade and the substantial wealth of England had been, for many
years, a potent lure. For a while, though, when the Duke, in consequence of
this wedding, denied them winter access to his Norman harbours, the raiders
would search elsewhere for their ill-gotten gain or stay at home. Unless, of
course, they elected to offer Richard a higher incentive than the one King
Æthelred of England had paid.
If Emma minded being so blatantly used for political
gain, it was of no consequence to anyone. Except to Emma herself.
Æthelred
was stepping forward, reaching out to take her hand, a smile on his face,
crow's-foot lines wrinkling at his eyes. She took in his sun-weathered,
leathery face and fair, curling hair that tumbled to his shoulders, a moustache
trailing down each side of his mouth to run into a trimmed beard with flecks of
grey hair grizzling through it. She sank into a deep reverence, bending her
head to hide the heat of crimson that was suddenly flushing into her cheeks. At
her side, Richard snorted, disgruntled that she should be greeted before
himself. He had not wanted to escort her to England, had vociferously balked at
meeting face to face with this English King.
‘I would
not trust a man involved in the murder of his own brother to gain the wearing
of a crown, any further than I could spew him.’ How often had Richard proclaimed
that opinion on the dreadful sea crossing? If they were his thoughts about this
King, then why, in the name of sweet Jesu, had he arranged for Emma to wed him?
Why was she here, feeling awkward and uncertain, fearing to look up at the man
who would soon be taking her innocence of maidenhood?
Non, Richard had not wanted to come
to England, but he had wanted to ensure that the agreed terms were fully
honoured. Dieu! To collect and count the bride price! He needed the
financial gain and the respectability this absurd marriage would bring. Needed
the prestige of having his youngest sister wed to one of the wealthiest kings
in all Europe.
What
if Æthelred was ugly? What if his breath and body stank worse than a six-month
uncleaned pigpen? What if he does not like me? The questions had tumbled
round and round in Emma's mind these three months since being told of the
arrangement; had haunted her by night and day. She knew she had to be wed,
Richard had been insistent on good marriages for all his sisters and it was a
woman's duty to be a wife, to bear sons for her lord. Either that or drown in
the monotonous daily misery of the nunnery. There would be no abbess's veil for
Richard's sisters, though. He needed the alliances, the silver and the land.
Normandy was a new young Duchy with no family honour or pride to fall back
upon, only the hope of a future, which Richard was too impatient to wait for.
This Emma understood but she had not expected to be bargained away so soon.
From
somewhere she had to gather the courage and dignity to look up, to smile at
Æthelred…she clung to the talisman of her mother's last parting words, as if
they were a cask of holy relics: ‘No matter how ill, how frightened or how
angry you might be, child, censure your feelings. Smile. Hold your chin high,
show only pride, nothing else. Fear and tears are to be kept private. You are
to be crowned and anointed as Queen of England. The wife and mother of kings.
Remember that.’
She took
a breath, swallowed. Looked up at the man standing before her. Looked at
Æthelred, who was to be her husband, and knew, instantly, that she disliked
him.
Website: www.helenhollick.net
Newsletter Subscription: http://tinyletter.com/HelenHollick
Main Blog: www.ofhistoryandkings.blogspot.com
Amazon Author Page (Universal Link) http://viewauthor.at/HelenHollick
Twitter: @HelenHollick
Discovering Diamonds Historical Fiction Review
Blog (submissions welcome) : https://discoveringdiamonds.blogspot.co.uk/
