Customer Reviews

Captive Queen: A Novel of Eleanor of Aquitaine

5 star:		(9)
4 star:		(8)
3 star:		(10)
2 star:		(10)
1 star:		(18)

 

 

2010 has been called The Year of Eleanor and for good reason: there are no less than three new historical fiction novels set for release featuring the historical feminist icon, Eleanor of Aquitaine.

Any novel of Eleanor should serve to illuminate the phenomenal life of a woman who, in a time when women were little but broodmares and chief cooks & bottle washers, took charge of her own destiny. Even though many details of her life have been lost to history, what we do know about Eleanor of Aquitaine is that she was a remarkably strong and capable woman....a feminist icon, if you will. A woman whose extraordinary life needs little to no embellishment.

As a historian, author Alison Weir is in a position to know this more than anyone. And yet, when presented an opportunity to write a historical novel based on Eleanor's life, Weir chose to portray this formidable queen as a sex-crazed floozy. Weir's third and latest work of historical fiction, The Captive Queen, manages to morph Eleanor into Paris Hilton.

This novel is just plain poor writing. The sentence structure and dialog are only slightly more sophisticated as an old-fashioned Dick and Jane reading primer. Events are so simplified that they make a mockery of the reader (even ones with no previous knowledge of historical events). The infamous conflict between Henry II of England and the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Beckett is essentially boiled down to:

"Well, I'll not let him best me again!" he vowed, and climbed in [bed] beside her. "But let us not waste time on Thomas. I came here for another purpose." [Insert yet another sex scene here]

Or how about this exchange when Henry, his son Geoffrey, and Thomas Beckett come across a beggar:

"Who is that man?" Geoffrey asked.
"He is a poor vagrant," Henry explained.

See Spot Run. I couldn't help but cringe.

In any historical novel, the author faces the obstacle of providing necessary background information to the reader without sounding like a dried-up history textbook. Frequently, character dialog is used for this purpose, but Weir's attempt is clumsy and awkward at best:

"Unfortunately, he was married to the sister of that awful Thibaut, Count of Blois, who tried to abduct me, remember?" (Eleanor of Aquitaine to her husband Henry II, of England)

Now how awkward is that? Of course Henry would remember his wife's near abduction, which took place a mere two years before this conversation and was even related to the readers of this novel in a five-page scene less than 50 pages prior to this one. Exactly who did Weir fear would forget?

Examples of this poor writing continue throughout the novel, such as when Eleanor comes upon her young son, William, fraught with fever:

"When did this come on?" she asked, her voice abrupt with terror.
"An hour ago, lady," Alice, William's nurse, replied. There were tears of distress-and fear-in her eyes. "Young ones of that age - he's not yet three - take ill quickly; they're up and down like windmills."

I was left wondering why a nurse would need to remind a mother of her own child's age. It's meant, of course, to inform the reader but is a decidedly clumsy way of going about it.

Inconsistencies abound throughout the book. In one scene we are plausibly treated to Eleanor handing over her newborn eldest son to a wet nurse - a commonplace occurrence for women of her rank during that time. Fast forward a couple of chapters and we find Eleanor offering her breast to this same child more than a year later. Nursing mothers everywhere will raise their eyebrows. (Indeed, I don't understand how Weir, a mother of two herself, managed to insert such a biological impossibility.)

And while Weir's historical inaccuracies might have been forgiven (it is, after all, a work of fiction), she leaves us with a puzzling author's note that extolls the virtues of accurate historical detail. I'm still scratching our head over that one.

All in all, this novel was a mess, which is rather disappointing considering that Weir's previous two historical fiction attempts showed promise. Perhaps her next novel will show a resurgence of her prior talent and we can quietly forget Captive Queen.

Alison Weir has written a very entertaining novel of the turbulent life that Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine spent together, ruling the greatest empire in Christendom.

She paints Eleanor as a remarkable woman, kept captive, as the title suggests, not just by the walls of her imprisonment in later life, but also by the conventions of the time that stated that her husband ruled in all things. Her frustrations at the limitations of the time are clear, and we know from the histories that this is not just a modern take on a medieval woman - when allowed to rule as Duchess of Aquitaine or Regent of England she did so fairly and was well loved and respected.

If I don't give this review 5 stars its becuase Ms Weir weaves into the novels some of the old scandals that were aimed at this high profile woman at the time - runours of infidelity primarily, and whereas they do add a flavour to the fictional Eleanor, I find that to a degree they lessen the picture of her that she is trying to portray. Having said that, the interactions between Henry and Eleanor are magnificent, and the reader truly feels that they are privvy to the machinations of a marriage at its best and at its worst.

This is fine historical fiction, about two of the most interesting people that ever lived. Their children were an interesting lot too, clearly keeping their parents on their toes.

This is a very good read, and reflects the events of the time well. Recommended.

I'd really enjoyed Alison Weir's first novel, liked her second, and seriously - a novel about Eleanor of Aquitaine, one of the most fascinating figures of the 12th century? How could you go wrong?

Like Weir's previous novel, "The Lady Elizabeth," this one is in third person limited, which arguably is an easier tense to pull off than say, first person POV, but unfortunately it's not done all that well here. Also as in "The Lady Elizabeth," the novel starts off too slowly, with way too many POV shifts, overwriting, and too much telling and not enough showing. Then there's the overblown, tedious and often cringe-tastic descriptions of sexy times between Eleanor and Henry (loads of "long and sensual journeys", "I have never felt like this with a woman before", an "undreamed-of capacity for pleasure" and so forth) ... overshadowed only by the breathless purple prose describing Eleanor's fond recollections (just how fond, we are given FAR too much information about) of her liaisons with some bloke called Marcabru and her soon-to-be father-in-law, Geoffrey of Anjou some years before, which would not be out of place in an erotic romance novel and provided an early WTF? moment. Rumours (for which, if I recall correctly, there is no evidence) about Eleanor's supposed affairs with other men during her marriage with Louis are also resurrected in this book. True, it's fiction, so the author is entitled to explore "what ifs," but in this case, it didn't work in the context of the novel; furthermore, it's more refreshing when an historical novel doesn't fall back on oft-recycled myths.

I found it very hard going for the first third, and almost didn't persist. I'm glad to say that once the heated-romance stuff is mostly out of the way (although there are some equally cheesy, clichéd sex scenes between Henry and Rosamund Clifford, for example, to come), things start to get more interesting once the inevitable conflict between two such powerful, passionate and stubborn people surfaces.

What I particularly liked about "Captive Queen" was the depiction of the relationship between Henry, Eleanor and Thomas Becket, and Weir provides an interesting explanation for the complex friendship between the two men. The depiction of the conflict between Henry and his sons, and the sons with each other, is also quite well done, although again, it falls back on a number of legends and clichés which mostly - as I understand it - have no foundation in fact.

As in her previous novels, Weir provides a reasonably comprehensive author's note disclosing the liberties she has taken, which is always appreciated.

I really expected to like this one, but regret to say I was underwhelmed, especially soon after having read Sharon Kay Penman's terrific version of the same events (Time and Chance: A Novel (Ballantine Reader's Circle) and Devil's Brood: A Novel). It's not totally horrible, it just didn't quite work for me and IMHO is far from Weir's best work; nor do I think Weir did her subject and her long and eventful life justice. Overall, two and a half stars, rounded up to three.

I don't even know where to start. The deviations from actual history? The completely unromantic attempt at romance? The one dimensional characters? Or the fact that the book moved in fits and starts?

Look, I am no fan of Ms Weir's non fiction, she has a very nasty tendancy to discount fact if it does not agree with her conclusions. I do however, enjoy her fiction. Well that is, up until this horrible book. I adore Eleanor of Aquitaine, find her fascinating and have devoured many many books on her, both fiction and non fiction (including Weir's own non fiction). Yet, by the third chapter, I was disgusted by this one dimensional, sexed up, much too modern speaking version of one of my favorite historical figures.

Yes, this is fiction and it is pleasant to suspend reality but Weir would have us suspend common sense as well. I found her treatment of both Eleanor and Henry to be pretty shoddy. I was not bothered by her treating the rumored affairs of Eleanor as fact, although I could have done without all the details. I did find it completely implausable that Eleanor and Henry slept together right under old Louis' nose though. I also cannot imagine, based on what we do know of Eleanor, that she was completely ruled by her passions, much less by her sex drive. I always assumed that while she was a relatively foward thinking woman, she was grounded by common sense and practicality but not so in this novel.

I would like to say that once you get through the purple prose of Eleanor and Henry's mutual sexual attraction, things look up but they dont. It just never gets any better.Never.

My personal recommendation would be to skip this book and read Sharon Kay Penman's series on Eleanor and Henry, starting with When Christ and His Saints Slept, followed by Time and Chance, then lastly Devil's Brood. Incredible books, vastly superior to this.

Eleanor, the very beautiful and wealthy heiress to the Duchy of Aquitaine, was first married to King Louis of France - although he preferred prayer to the marital bed. Eleanor is the one who gets the blame for not providing the necessary male heir and Louis is encouraged to dump her for a new model. She catches the eye of the much younger Henry Fitz-Empress (the future Henry II of England) who desires both the woman and her Duchy and once Louis sets her free they marry without Louis' permission. Thus starts off the tale of one of history's most memorable and dynastic marriages, the magnificent empire they carved out together and their devil's brood of children.

Of course there's more to it than that but I think most of you know the basics so I'm not rehashing it all over again. If you want to know more you can read up on up Eleanor at Wik or better yet read Sharon Penman's fabulous trilogy: When Christ and His Saints Slept, Time and Chance and The Devil's Brood. Now comes Alison Weir with her own take on this infamous Queen and unfortunately she's decided to take every unsubstantiated rumor and bit of gossip about Eleanor and her alleged love-life and work it into her story. Even worse than that, Weir also throws in the Matilda-had-an-affair-with-King-Stephen-and-Henry-is-not-really-Geoffrey's-son-after-all rumor.

In Weir's version, Eleanor had previously had an affair with Henry's father Geoffrey (as well as Marcabru the troubadour who initiated her into the rites of true passion), although when he comes to swear fealty to Louis it's his son Henry who catches Eleanor's eye and sets her sexual appetites a-fire. Lol, at the pick-up scene where they're planning to do the nasty within less than an hour of their first meeting - let alone how he's able to get into the chambers of the Queen of France three nights running with no one noticing. Where were those servants anyway? As for the hot sex they have? No chemistry here - it's all depicted very clinically in waaaaaaay too much detail and this is where we go back to Penman's trilogy. Much less sex (well actually a whole lot less sex) yet Penman's Henry and Eleanor literally smoked off the pages. The story continues on the usual historical path of this turbulent pair - Thomas Becket, Rosamund Clifford, the rebellious sons and Eleanor's long imprisonment, etc. etc. etc.

Instead of the formidable strong-willed woman that we've admired in Penman's books we're instead treated to a woman with not much else on her mind but sex, sex and more sex. Where Henry should be feared and admired for carving such an incredible empire and holding it, he's more of a buffoon, getting drunk every night with his belching English barons and swiving any woman available. When not doing that he's losing his infamous temper again, falling on the ground and chewing straw.

There are always two camps when it comes to historical accuracy in novels. Some readers don't care if the history is spot-on or not, they just want to be entertained. The other camp wants the history as accurate as possible with author notes in the end to let them know in the end what had to be changed, surmised, etc. Well guess what, you won't get accuracy or entertainment in this one. Even taking the historical accuracy off the table (see the author wiggle her way around that in her notes) there is still the issue of the writing. I cannot believe the same person who wrote Innocent Traitor wrote this book, the writing is amateurish and better suits a badly written wall-paper romance as opposed to a serious historical novel.

While the sex does taper off in the latter half of the novel, unfortunately so does the pacing. The entire Becket saga was dry as dirt (Sharon, you know I love you but I even struggled with your version), and as for Eleanor's captivity? Since it's from her POV, there's much too much telling instead of showing as *someone* has to come and relate to her what's been happening in the outside world. In the end, this is a tedious book filled with dire prose, insipid dialog and a serious waste of a tree. After reading a friend's review I had decided to pass on this,library or no, but unfortunately I'd forgotten I'd entered a giveaway and was stuck with it after all. Not recommended or library only if you must, then buy it if you love it.

I love reading about Eleanor of Aquitaine, but Wier's book makes a mockery of her life. I am so disappointed that I spent money on this book and wasted my time reading it. I do NOT recommend this book to anyone!!

In 1202 the eighty-two-year old Eleanor of Aquitaine is at last ready to meet her Maker, nine of her eleven children dead before her, Henry II long in the grave after a brilliant reign, tumultuous marriage and years of fighting with his four heirs, Henry (The Young King), Richard the Lionhearted, Geoffrey and John. From the days of Eleanor's marriage to Louis VII of France (1137), the dissolution of that bond to wed Henry FitzEmpress and the passion that spawns a great and fruitful union, Weir relates a powerful story of love, power, ambition and betrayal. Proud as she is of the incandescent beauty that inspires troubadours and the fertile lands of Aquitaine, Eleanor recognizes her destiny with Henry from the first moment they meet; equally enthralled by the French queen, Henry dreams of ruling England, Brittany, Anjou, Aquitaine the crown jewel of his ambition.

Weir introduces the momentous incidents of Eleanor's life chronologically, each phase of Eleanor's path filled with historical import, beginning with the early days of Henry's unbridled physical appetites and ambitions, Eleanor matching his passion, albeit with an expectation of a marriage between equals. Except that Henry has no equal in wife or in hubris, driven by insatiable appetites and a vision for the future that includes the throne of England. And for all her beauty, wit and intelligence, by law Eleanor cannot oppose the will of her husband, her passion whittled away by years of betrayal and disappointment, her own arrogance broken on the wheel of Henry's will. The partnership is fruitful, sons and daughters destined for brilliant political matches, Henry his own worst enemy, ruthless and cunning, regardless of the coast to his relationships.

In one of the most comprehensive and thorough fictionalization of this historical figure that I have yet encountered, Eleanor is embraced in all her glory and faults, a fated marriage that becomes a deadly joust, the agonizing years of Henry's obsession with Thomas Becket and the eventual uttering of those fateful words, "Who will rid me of this turbulent priest?" And though the passion dies, or is cruelly battered from her bruised heart, Eleanor occasionally dreams of rapprochement, only to learn of another betrayal... and another. From the wildest heights of joy to the deepest despair and a sixteen year imprisonment after a treasonous act on behalf of her sons, Eleanor endures, the only voice that dares confront Henry's Angevin temper. Bearing infidelity and the final outrage of Henry's long affair with Richard's betrothed, Eleanor of Aquitaine claims her rightful place in history thanks to the inspired work of an author who marries both humanity and fact in a brilliant portrayal of a queen captive in body and in heart. Luan Gaines/2010.

Alison Weir is a marvelous writer, I have loved all of her previous work and was looking forward to this novel. Sadly, this one fails on many levels and reads like a florid bodice ripper, and not even a good one. Give this a pass and read her non-fiction account of Eleanor of Aquitaine's life. Hopefully, the next time she attempts fiction it won't be as mind numbingly bad.

This book is so bad! Ms. Weir managed to reduced an independant medieval woman to a sex-crazed idiot! The writing is terrible. It reads like a really bad romance novel. Don't waste your money!

I have always been a fan of Alison Weir's non fiction books and instantly fell in love with her first two novels (Innocent Traitor and The Lady Elizabeth). So when I found out that she had written a novel about Eleanor of Aquitaine a Queen that I found both intellegent and passionate leader who deffied the stereotype of the time that women are only brood mares. But it seemed that Ms. Weir turned Eleanor into a brood mare.

It started out at the end of Elenor's marrige with King Louis of France and her meeting with her second husband Henry of England. One thing that really annoyed me was the fact that she took these rummors about her sleeping with a troubdor, her uncle, and future husband's father and stated them as fact. While I feel that Eleanor was unsatisfied with the lack of passion in her marrige with Louis, I don't think that it was very likely that she hopped from bed to bed of random men's bed especially in a time when it was perfectly alright for an adultress to be put to death, I think that Eleanor is way too smart for that. I also found it very unbelieveable that Henry was able to sneak into Eleanor's bed room when she was queen since a queen was never alone, her ladies in waiting would live in the same room as the queen and there would be guards always outside her room.

While I enjoy the romance and marrige between Eleanor and Henry II, I don't want to read a bodice ripper with some plot between the sex scenes. While I had always felt that Eleanor and Henry had a healthy sex life (they did have ten children after all), I would like to think that there had been more to their marrige besides sex. I couldn't even get through the first half of the book. Thankfully I had checked this book out from the library instead of buying it. I hope that Alison's next novel will be much better than this.