New Historical Fiction for 2011

The historical fiction goddess Sarah Johnson (Reading the Past) has just posted on the Historical Novel Society website a list of historical fiction to be published in the USA in the first half of 2011. I compile a list of HF published in the UK for the same period for the same webpage. But I'm behindhand as usual, still waiting for some of the big UK publishers to make their catalogues available. If you're reading this, Sarah, that's my excuse and I hope to get my list to you soon!

Meanwhile, here's a sneak preview of novels from the UK list so far, set in my favourite periods:

January

M K Hume, Prophecy: Clash of Kings, Headline (novel about Merlin)

John Stack, Masters of the Sea, HarperCollins (latest in Roman naval series)

Mark Keating, The Hunt for White Gold, Hodder & Stoughton (second in 18^th-c pirate series)

February

Christian Cameron, King of the Bosphorus, Orion (latest in Tyrant series set post-Alexander the Great)

James McGee, Rebellion, HarperCollins (Bow Street Runner goes on dangerous mission to Napoleonic Paris, 1812)

March

Robin Blake, A Dark Anatomy, Macmillan (murder mystery set in 1740 Lancashire)

R S Downie, Ruso and the River of Darkness, Penguin (latest in Roman sleuth series set in Roman Britain)

Russell Whitfield, Roma Victrix, Myrmidon (sequel to Gladiatrix, further adventures of a female gladiator in ancient Rome)

April

Patrick Easter, The Watermen, Quercus (crime novel set in 18^th-c London Docklands)

Anthony Riches, Fortress of Spears, Hodder & Stoughton (latest in Roman army series set on Hadrian’s Wall, 3^rd-c AD)

Imogen Robertson, Island of Bones, Headline Review (Cumbria 1783: one body too many found in a tomb leads to discovery of a past that won’t stay buried)

May

Justin Hill, Shield Wall, Little, Brown (tumultuous events from the death of Ethelred the Unready to the Battle of Hastings, first of a series)

M C Scott, Rome: The Coming of the King, Bantam (second in series takes spy to Judea in pursuit of man bent on destroying the Roman province, 1^st-c AD)

Stella Tillyard, Tides of War, Chatto & Windus (two young women in London and Spain during the Peninsular War)

Christopher Wakling, The Devil’s Mask, Faber (young Bristol lawyer uncovers deadly secrets in the aftermath of the abolition of the slave trade)

June

Elizabeth Chadwick, Lady of the English, Sphere (struggle for the English crown between Henry I’s daughter Matilda and his widow Adeliza who is Matilda’s stepmother)

Diana Gabaldon, Lord John and the Scottish Prisoner, Orion (latest in 18^th-c crime series)

Ben Kane, Soldier of Carthage, Preface (first in Punic War series)

Kate Quinn, Daughters of Rome, Headline (2 sisters in Rome in AD69, Year of the Four Emperors)

Julian Stockwin, Conquest, Hodder & Stoughton (latest in naval series set during Napoleonic Wars)

And not one, but two novels about Hereward the Wake:

Stewart Binns, Conquest, Penguin, February

James Wilde, Hereward, Bantam (first in series), June

Seasonal Suicide Notes: Roger Lewis

Gosh, this blog has performed more comebacks than any number of wrinkly pop stars or botoxed celebs. But here it is again, after a long hiatus resulting from my father's death last November which, as well as being sad, caused no end of medico-legal problems and my assumption of full-time care for my mother, a victim of Alzheimer's disease. After this long silence, I'll probably just be talking to myself but what the hell. I've had stupider conversations recently.

However, I've been considerably cheered up by the reviews of Seasonal Suicide Notes: My Life as it is Lived by Roger Lewis, an academic, journalist and sometime-notorious biographer. Here's one review that particularly creased me up and convinced me to buy at the earliest opportunity. Seasonal Suicide Notes looks like a book-length spoof of those smug, boastful round robin letters that plop dismayingly on your doormat every Christmas. Except that it isn't - the book is composed of genuine missives that the recipients persuaded Roger Lewis to publish: funny, vitriolic and oh-so-true to life as it's really lived. I was especially tickled by Mrs Lewis's experience in a TK Maxx changing room during a Two-Minutes' Silence.

A few Christmases ago, I got so irritated by these self-regarding incitements to envy that I composed a spoof round robin from Cuthbertson Acres. It was a catalogue of Dickensian misfortune which had us bankrupted in a scam moneymaking scheme and our offspring variously involved in drug-running/people-smuggling/unspeakable terrorist outrages, instead of becoming top lawyers/doctors/scientists/Booker-winning novelists. Sadly, I chickened out of sending it on the grounds that the recipients would either take offence at being sent up or, having no sense of the absurd, would have been only too willing to believe it.

And I wouldn't want that, would I?

Alan Coren: The Gollies Karamazov

If you're of a certain age, you may remember the satirical magazine Punch (1841-2002), even if you only read it in the dentist's waiting room. For me, the highlight was always Alan Coren's column, which invariably had me in stitches.

To commemorate Alan Coren's death a year ago, his son and daughter have just published an anthology of his work, Chocolate and Cuckoo Clocks. It was chosen as BBC Radio 4's Book of the Week last week and if you're quick you can listen to the five broadcast extracts here, read by the brilliant John Sessions who does all the voices wonderfully well. So far, I've only managed to hear "Let Us Now Phone Famous Men", and yes, it had me in stitches all over again.

In The Times, there's an example of what Coren did best, in my opinion - the literary parody. This one's called "The Pooh Also Rises". There's also an article about Alan Coren by his son Giles here.

Both Giles and Victoria Coren have, happily, inherited their father's gift of humour. Victoria Coren, a journalist since the age of 14, is probably best known for the TV series Balderdash & Piffle which tested new words or definitions sent in by the public for inclusion in the Oxford English Dictionary. OK, that doesn't sound funny but it often was. She also writes columns in The Guardian and The Observer. Besides being The Times's restaurant critic, Giles Coren was recently co-presenter (or victim) with comedian Sue Perkins of The Supersizers Go..., a series of programmes in which the pair lived for a week on the dishes of various periods and tested the effects of historical diets with hilarious and sometimes revolting results. He also wrote this (expletives undeleted) in which he vents his anger with some Times sub-editor who went too far with one of his articles.

An Award and Some Nominations

Oh dear. I'm afraid I've become rather an unreliable blogger of late. Real life is so in the way in the blogosphere, as Mrs Gaskell might have said had she been living in the 21st century.

Sarah's Bookarama is, however, delighted to have been nominated for a blog award by Carla Nayland and Elizabeth Chadwick but, in view of its recent waywardness, it does feel rather a fraud. On the other hand, the undeserved accolade gives me a chance to nominate some of my favourite bloggers who are a good deal more dedicated than I am at the mo. I should like to single out Carla and Elizabeth of course, and others on my blogroll whom I nominated for a previous award.

But this time I thought I'd also mention a selection of excellent blogs I've discovered since then. So here, in no particular order, I present for your delectation:

George Orwell's Blog which was set up by The Orwell Prize to commemorate the 70th anniversary of the start of George Orwell's diary, much of which is published here for the first time. Each entry appears exactly seventy years after it was written. This from the introduction:

What impression of Orwell will emerge? From his domestic diaries (which start on 9th August), it may be a largely unknown Orwell, whose great curiosity is focused on plants, animals, woodwork, and – above all – how many eggs his chickens have laid. From his political diaries (from 7th September), it may be the Orwell whose political observations and critical thinking have enthralled and inspired generations since his death in 1950. Whether writing about the Spanish Civil War or sloe gin, geraniums or Germany, Orwell’s perceptive eye and rebellion against the ‘gramophone mind’ he so despised are obvious.

Cornflower. This is a beautiful blog, a source of daily aesthetic pleasure with its superb photographs, perceptive bookish thoughts and delicious recipes. To Cornflower I owe the delights of Sarah Raven's Garden Cookbook, from which I made 4 recipes in a week, which is a record for me from a single book. And every one was a winner. I'll probably be gushing some more about this book later.

Bad Science, the blog of Ben Goldacre, Guardian columnist, doctor and scourge of quackery, pseudoboffins and the misrepresentation of science in the media for the sake of an eye-catching headline. You know the sort of thing: tests on 5 blind mice show that red wine cures cancer/prevents strokes/lets you live to be 100. But what the hell: we're all going to disappear into a black hole next Wednesday - or are we? If not, there'll be time to read Ben Goldacre's book, just out in paperback.

Circle of the Year. This is a delightful blog that rejoices in the customs, traditions and natural rhythms of the English countryside, especially the Derbyshire Peak District. The photographs are superb.

NewsBiscuit, an up-to-the-minute satirical news blog to which anyone can submit material for consideration, a sort of www.notthetimesgrauniadindydailymailonline.co.uk with a special section on the Isle of Wight, for some reason.

Wife in the North, the tragicomic blog of a London journalist who, at her husband's behest, reluctantly moved with him, their two small children and another one on the way, to the wilds of Northumberland where the debatable joys of the weather, the natives and a major house renovation awaited her. The blog is certainly sad and funny - and wry and poignant and perceptive too, though the author got quite a tongue-lashing from some early commenters for her rude remarks about folk Oop North. Nonetheless she sold the idea to Penguin for a lot of money - yes, folks, it can be done - and the book of the blog came out recently.

Classical Bookworm Even if you're not interested in the Greek and Roman classics, there's plenty here for everyone who loves books and reading - from the serious to the quirky. The latest post is about how recent screen adaptations of Jane Austen misunderstand her values. Lots of fascinating sidebar links too.

Sceptical Cook. Nicholas Clee is a book journalist and food writer who uses this blog to experiment with recipes and ingredients. He's good on the how and why (and why not) of cooking and is usefully frank about his failures. The successes of course sound delicious. Lots for us foodies to learn and enjoy. He's also the author of that invaluable little tome Don't Sweat the Aubergine: What Works in the Kitchen and Why.

Historical Novel Society Conference, York, 12 April 2008

Here's a brief report and some photos from the Historical Novel Society Conference which took place 0n 12 April 2008 at the National Railway Museum in York, surrounded by vintage locomotives, some of which were being put through their paces on the tracks outside, complete with authentic sound effects.

Appropriately enough, one of the speakers was Andrew Martin, a native of York who writes historical mysteries set on the Edwardian railways starring Jim Stringer, the Steam Detective: The Necropolis Railway, The Blackpool Highflyer, Murder at Deviation Junction, The Lost Luggage Porter and the latest, Death on a Branch Line. Andrew's father was a railwayman and Andrew grew up at the end of the age of steam, recalling with pleasure the free rides to London he took as a boy, for the pure pleasure of going on a long railway journey. He is also fascinated by the details of life in Edwardian times, from the tweed suits that even workmen wore, and the elegant language so rarely found in speech today ("and so he kept silence.")

Suzannah Dunn spoke of her novels about various Tudor women including Anne Boleyn (The Queen of Subtleties) and Catherine Parr (The Sixth Wife). Her forthcoming novel is The Queen's Sorrow, about Mary Tudor. She was billed as "not a historical novelist" but it turned out that what she meant was that she didn't do the stilted dialogue and heaving bosoms style of historical fiction. Her characters talk in modern language and this serves to reflect how modern people like Anne Boleyn were. You can read more here and see if you agree.

Crème de la Crime is a newish publisher of crime fiction. Its founder, Lyne Patrick, told us all about setting up a small independent publishers with only a few permanent staff, including herself, the rest of the work being undertaken by freelancers. Crème de la Crime recently introduced a historical crime strand and two of its historical authors were at the conference: Gordon Ferris, whose latest novel

set in ration-book London and defeated Berlin, was launched during the conference lunch and Roz Southey, author of Broken Harmony, set in 18th-century Newcastle with a musician protagonist. Roz was on an after-lunch panel discussing what the future holds for historical fiction, along with Sarah Bower, author of The Needle in the Blood (beloved of book bloggers, including Woman in Black author Susan Hill - and me) and Russell Whitfield,whose first novel Gladiatrix was published in March. The conclusion: more Ebooks, more from small independent publishers like Snowbooks (Sarah Bower), Myrmidon (Russell Whitfield) and Crème de la Crime (Roz Southey) who are giving the big boys a run for their money.

At the same time as this, another panel featuring Melinda Hammond (author of romantic historical novels such as A Rational Romance and The Belles Dames Club), Jude Morgan (see below) and Mary Sharratt, author of The Vanishing Point and A Light Far Shining, a forthcoming novel about the Witches of Pendle, talked about writing women back into history and concluded that this was happening already, and not before time either.

Jude Morgan spoke next. He used to write historical mysteries set in the 18th century under the name of Hannah March. His detective was a man and Jude told an amusing story about a reviewer who said he couldn't get on with the novels because Hannah March couldn't write men convincingly. Jude Morgan now writes fictional biographies. His first was The King's Touch, about Charles II, which was followed by Indiscretion (a stylish Regency tale of love and the impoverished Miss Fortune), Passion (Byron, Shelley, Keats and the women who loved them), Symphony (Berlioz and his muse) and his latest,

An Accomplished Woman (a witty homage to Regency romances and Jane Austen). His next novel is about the Brontë sisters and is due out early next year.

The last speakers were Elizabeth Chadwick, author of early medieval historicals, and Alison King, who's an akashic consultant. After explaining what an akashic consultant is (someone who can, apparently, tune into an ethereal level where she can communicate with the dead), she and Elizabeth did a session, demonstrating how tuning into the akashic records has helped Elizabeth research the real-life characters in her recent novels about William Marshal (The Greatest Knight, The Scarlet Lion) and his father (A Place Beyond Courage). Personally, I wasn't convinced by either the idea or the demo, but who knows?

And finally, some photos of the day here.

Virginia Woolf on Reading

Dovegrey Reader's contribution to the Oxford Lit Fest's panel on Blogging the Classics ended with a sublime quotation from an essay by Virginia Woolf, "How Should One Read A Book?". The whole essay is a perfect manifesto for reading but this final paragraph is worth a post of its own:

Are there not some pursuits that we practise because they are good in themselves, and some pleasures that are final? And is not this among them? I have sometimes dreamt, at least, that when the Day of Judgment dawns and the great conquerors and lawyers and statesmen come to receive their rewards—their crowns, their laurels, their names carved indelibly upon imperishable marble—the Almighty will turn to Peter and will say, not without a certain envy when he sees us coming with our books under our arms, “Look, these need no reward. We have nothing to give them here. They have loved reading.”

I've read just about every biography of Virginia Woolf. One day I shall pluck up courage to try her novels (reputed to be "difficult"). Meanwhile, essays like this from her Common Reader series, so clearly written and so brimming with new ways of looking at literature, are a breath of stimulating fresh air.

Funny Stuff and Bookish Snippets

An Archbishop of Canterbury Tale from Iowahawk.

That "wickedly subversive" Cambridge don, Mary Beard, reveals her next writing project: What Made The Romans Laugh.

What makes historians think they're qualified to write historical fiction? Joel Rickett in The Guardian reports that increasing numbers of academics are doing just that.

James Holland, The Burning Blue and A Pair of Silver Wings
Alison Weir, Innocent Traitor, The Lady Elizabeth
Simon Sebag Montefiore, Sashenka (Perhaps he got some handy tips from wife Santa Montefiore, who writes historical romances)
Katie Hickman, The Aviary Gate
Stella Tillyard, famous for the bestselling Aristocrats, has sold two historical novels, the first of which will be published in 2010.

Perhaps it's because the most popular historical non-fiction these days is being written by historians who know how to tell a good story with vividly drawn characters and convincing settings. As long as they resist the temptation to weigh down their fiction with a burden of historical detail, they should add greatly to the gaiety of (reading) nations. Which is more than can be said for this recent crop of hapless historicals (unless the reviewer is one of those snooty types who thinks historical fiction is all rather rubbish).

And then of course there's the mega-selling Philippa Gregory who has a history degree and published her first historical novel around the same time as she got her PhD in 18th-century literature. Here she is in The Times on how her novel The Other Boleyn Girl got the Hollywood treatment.

Spamalot and Other Palaces of Delight

Our Christmas present from our daughter and son-in-law was (were?) tickets for Monty Python's Spamalot. This naturally elicited whoops of joy from the lucky recipients, who planned a princely day out in London which happened yesterday.

The Great Wen treated us to bright sunshine and blue sky when we emerged from Warren Street tube station. It made Tottenham Court Road look picturesquely scruffy rather than depressingly drab, but we didn't care - we were off to our first Palace of Delights: Waterstone's in Gower Street.

Having parked my non-bookish husband in the basement coffee shop with a latte and the Saturday paper, I wended (wound?) my way upstairs to the secondhand department, an Aladdin's Cave to a bookaholic whose purse is never big enough to buy all she would like. I was only constrained in my purchases by what we could carry, but I was delighted with my Catch of the Day (see end of post).

Then we walked down Gower Street, passing RADA, The School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine, and various houses with blue plaques, including this one for Millicent Garrett Fawcett,

until we reached our next Palace, the British Museum.

The BM's current blockbuster exhibition is The First Emperor: China's Terracotta Army but here lack of forward planning (viz. not checking to see if we needed to book) meant the only disappointment of the day (or an excuse to come back again soon). We won't make the same mistake with Hadrian: Empire and Conflict which opens on 24 July.

And so, we retreated, chins quivering, to console ourselves with coffee in the lightsome and elegant Great Court


before heading to our favourite parts of the BM: the King's Library


and the Rooms containing Lindow Man, the Vindolanda Tablets and the Sutton Hoo Ship Burial.

After a brisk stroll down Charing Cross Road (so many bookshops, so little time), lunch was had in the National Portrait Gallery's rather poky basement caff, whose filthy cutlery we hesitated to complain about for fear of being responsible for a Pythonesque mass staff suicide.

Having recovered from this trauma, we ambled through the galleries in a roughly chronological fashion, but barely reached the 19th century before it was time to set off for the theatre. It was thrilling to see our history through the people who made it, and the NPG never fails to delight and enthrall. I should add that I'm a bit of a philistine where Great Art is concerned, rather like Tony Hill who memorably said in a recent episode of Wire in the Blood: "I don't know anything about art. I don't even know what I like." Hmm. I think I like Rembrandt and Turner and Vermeer, but I've no idea why. So the National Gallery round the corner from the NPG in Trafalgar Square is somewhere I know I ought to visit, but rarely do.

Our final Palace of Delights actually had "palace" in its name: The Palace Theatre in Shaftesbury Avenue, facing on to Cambridge Circus. Here it is in all its glory. rather like many-tower'd Camelot (although it was built in the 1890s by Richard D'Oyly Carte).

Spamalot was a hoot from start to finish, a panto for grown-ups, a comical send-up of musicals in general and a genuine olde rippe-offe of Monty Python and The Holy Grail, complete with the clip-clop coconuts, the Knights Who Say "Ni", the French Taunters and the added bonus of Always Look on the Bright Side of Life tacked on from Life of Brian, lo, even unto the audience singalong at the end. Oh, and the voice of John Cleese as God. We wondered how they would do King Arthur's dismembering fight with The Black "it's only a scratch" Knight. Ingenious. Side-splitting. Do see it if you get the chance.

Only make sure you don't get seats with the tallest man in the world sitting in front of you, and behind you the woman who does the world's loudest braying donkey impressions (was she part of the act?).

And finally, here's my Catch of the Day, all from Waterstones's Secondhand Department except for Paths of Exile which arrived in the post whilst we were out. And presiding over all is Henry, the Intellectual Indian Runner Duck. You can't see in the photo but he's wearing specs and is carrying a book and an apple. And a tag with his name on it on a piece of string round his neck. In case he get so absorbed in his book he forgets who he is. A bit like me, really.