Sharon Kay Penman

Two hundred nineteen ships.   Seventeen thousand sailors and soldiers, a huge army by medieval standards.  This was the royal fleet of Richard Coeur de Lion, which sailed from Messina, Sicily on Wednesday, April 10^th 1191.   Almost immediately the fleet was becalmed, forced to anchor off the coast of Calabria.  Two days later, the storm struck.  We even know the hour of the storm, the “ninth hour of the day,” or 3 PM.   One reason I am deriving so much pleasure from writing Lionheart is that I have this surprisingly intimate glimpse of Richard and his world.  Two chroniclers traveled to the Holy Land with Richard and sometimes their accounts read like battlefield dispatches.   Here is a comment upon that savage Good Friday storm: “Then they entrusted their steering to God alone, for they believed they were beyond human aid.”   We are told that Richard kept a lantern lit on the mast of his galley, a beacon for the other ships, that he was always on the lookout for stragglers, that he “looked after the fleet like a hen caring for her chicks.”   And when I read their descriptions of the storms at sea, I was awed at the courage of medieval men and women, for had I been living in the twelfth century, I think it would have taken a drawn sword to get me on board a vessel that lacked adequate shelter, any navigational instruments, or comfort or privacy or safety.

     This was a round-about way of announcing that Richard is finally on his way to the Holy Land.  So far I am pleased with the book’s progress, mainly because the characters have come into clear focus for me.  Obviously, I feel as if I know Eleanor to the marrow of her bones by now; this is my fifth book in which she appears, not counting the four mysteries.   And by the end of Devil’s Brood, I thought I had a good grasp of Richard the man, not Richard the legend.   But I had to acquaint myself with new characters for Lionheart, primarily Berengaria and Richard’s grown-up sister, Joanna, and they seem to be finding their own voices.  

     I’ve always wondered how much free will fictional characters have. I remember reading an amusing, snarky comment by Vladimir Nabokov on this subject.   E.M. Forster had written that his characters sometimes took over and dictated the course of his novels.   In response to this, Mr. Nabokov said that, while he didn’t blame Forster’s characters for trying to “wriggle out of that trip to India or wherever he takes them,” his own characters were “galley slaves.”  Well, my characters cannot take over and deny history, as much as they’d like to.  But they are not galley slaves, either.   And they are capable of surprising me, which is half the fun of writing.

       Speaking of galley slaves—how is that for a segue way—I found another mistake in The Reckoning.  It is not as horrific or inexplicable as the bizarre crossbow-longbow episode, but as Ellen de Montfort is sailing to Wales to wed Llewelyn, there is a scene in which Hugh talks about the use of galley slaves by the Italian city-states of Genoa and Venice, claiming they manned their fleets with “infidel slaves and convicted felons.”    Not so.   Galley slaves were certainly used during the Roman Empire and during the Renaissance, but not in the Middle Ages, when the oarsmen were paid wages for their labor.    Clearly I consulted an erroneous source back then; since it was more than twenty years ago, I can’t be more specific than that.  Or else Hugh was just repeating what he’d heard in the wharf-side taverns of Harfleur.  Yes, the more I think about it, I’m going to blame Hugh for this one.

       I wanted to let you all know that Elizabeth Chadwick kindly interviewed me on her current blog; we’ll put up a link here, but it is always worth a trip to Elizabeth’s website.   One of the questions she posed gave me a chance to elaborate upon the changes in my opinion of Richard between Here Be Dragons and Devil’s Brood.   She is in the midst of doing numerous on-line interviews for the American publication of The Greatest Knight.  It comes out on September 1^st; mark your calendars.   But I think she will probably post links to these interviews on her website, another reason to drop by.

       Okay, now to the book giveaway.   Janna, you’re the winner.  If you e-mail me with your address, I’ll put a copy in the mail to you.   And I’ll pass  your questions on to St Martin’s.  It will be up to them to decide which ones they want to use, but I thought they all were insightful and worthy of being included. 

         Several of you asked for the contact information for that wonderful hotel at Fontevrault Abbey.   Here it is.   Hotellerie de l’Abbaye Royale de Fontevraud, Prieure Saint Lazare, tel: 02.41.51.73.16    And here is their website URL    http://www.hotelfp-fontevraud.com/   Reservations can also be made on-line via Expedia, etc.    BTW, I used the older spelling for the abbey; Fontevraud is the more modern version.  

       I would still like to put Ken’s research directly onto a separate blog entry for that purpose.  I know there is a lot of interest in his findings.  He’s been away, but when he gets home, I’ll try to get his consent for that.  I was corresponding recently with a member of the Princess Gwenllian Society; next month they are holding an official ceremony to name a Welsh mountain in her honor.   My Welsh readers who’d like to attend can find more information on the Princess Gwenllian website, which is listed in My Favorites.   My friend was very interested in our blog discussions about Joanna and Llewelyn’s children.  The Society is researching the daughters of Llewelyn ap Gruffydd’s  brother Davydd, who were banished to lifelong exile in English nunneries like their cousin Gwenllian. 

       I think I answered most of your questions already.   But I do have a few comments about your comments.  It is a shame there is not an award for blogs; I think we’d win in a walk, for I am sure I have the best informed readers when it comes to the MA.   It is fascinating to read your responses and observations.  I loved your “What if” speculations, Malcolm; those are questions I’ve often asked myself, too.   I agree with you, Nicolette; as little as I like the man personally, Philippe Auguste was a highly effective king, maybe even a great one.   Thank you all for giving Brenna so many helpful suggestions for her trip to Wales.   As I said in an earlier comment to Malcolm, I love the way my readers look out for one another.   (And the Oscar goes to….)   I really liked your astute observations about Arthur, Koby.   Mention was made of the story that John killed Arthur himself in a drunken rage.   I never believed that myself.   It didn’t sound like John’s MO to me.  I think he made sure to be hundreds of miles away from Rouen when Arthur died.  Granted, we do not know for a certainty that he had Arthur put to death.  But I’d feel comfortable making a large wager on that.     Dave, thank you for telling us about Cosmestn Medieval village in Glamorgan; I hadn’t heard about that, would love to see it one day.  And as many times as I’ve been to Cricieth, I never tasted Cadwalader’s ice cream, clearly my loss.    Now back to you, Koby.   Since I am accusing John of murder, I might as well charge Marguerite d’Anjou with adultery; I always thought the most likely candidate for paternity was the young Duke of Somerset.    Though I can’t say that I’d blame Marguerite if she did stray from Henry VI’s bed.   

         I just realized that I didn’t ask any questions myself in this blog.   What can I end with?    Well, that novel Pride and Prejudice and Zombies has been on the USA Today bestseller list for twenty weeks now.    So maybe I am missing an opportunity with Richard I.   Forget about his sexuality.   Suppose I have him come out of the closet as…drum roll here…a vampire.    You think that would get Lionheart on the bestseller list for twenty weeks?     Just kidding, honest.    But I really do think Jane Austin is not only rolling over in her grave; she is probably spinning like a top.    So here’s a real question to end this blog.   I’m not sure if the Zombies book can be classified as fantasy, more like a spoof?    But what do you think of including elements of the supernatural in a novel?    Does it put you off?   Or does it depend upon whether the book is well written or not?     Lastly, as soon as I get Ken’s okay, I’ll put his research findings up on a special blog.

August 27, 2009     

        Hi, everybody.   The second part of the book tour went well, too.  We had a smaller turnout at Books and Company in Dayton, but the bad weather earlier may have been a factor; we were hit by the same storm that flooded Louisville.  The weather was much better the next day in Ann Arbor, and we had eighty-seven people there, which is very good for me since I’m neither famous nor infamous!    The best part of the tour, though, was getting to meet some of my new friends from the blog and Facebook, and to see some old friends in Dayton and Ann Arbor.   And of course there was Dave’s Welsh cakes! 

        I’d hoped to post a new blog earlier in the week, but I’ve been doing on-line chats at Goodreads.com and Librarythings.com, while having to make some emergency visits to my chiropractor; if not for that dear man, I’d be making regular pilgrimages to Lourdes. 

       Ken, we are all so grateful for the research you’ve been doing about Joanna and Llewelyn’s children.  I haven’t had a chance to go over it yet, but I’d like to share it with our blog members.   I am not computer-savvy—classic understatement—so I will need help in doing that.   Should I copy and paste it into a blog entry of its own?   Or is there an easier way?

        I have a few items of interest for my fellow book-lovers.   The BBC has compiled a list of one hundred books; they estimate that the average person has only read six of them.  One of my Facebook friends has kindly posted this on my Facebook wall if any of you want to check it out and see how many of the books you’ve read.    And Amazon has posted a list of the ten best books of 2009—so far. 

      Okay, on to your questions.  After this blog, I’ll go back to responding to some of your questions and comments as they come in.  Gayle, if you’d like to write about Ranulf’s Welsh mother, go ahead and give it a shot.  She was only a memory in Saints, so I don’t feel territorial about her.   Cindy, thanks for mentioning bookdepository.com, which doesn’t charge an international postal fee.   James, I’d love to go to Portland on a book tour; they’ve sent me there in the past, but not for a while.  And I loved the thought of you happily snipping away at the red roses.   Cece, I laughed out loud at the image of you tossing a book into the path of your husband’s lawn mower; Elizabeth Chadwick calls books like that “wall-bangers.”  

        Suzanne, I deliberately chose not to take the reader into Thomas Becket’s head in Time and Chance.  He was an enigma during his own lifetime and his abrupt “conversion” was as baffling to many of his contemporaries as it is to us.  (Loved your WTF comment, Kristen!)  Not everyone agreed with my decision to let the readers make up their own minds about Becket’s motivations, but it was one I felt comfortable with, and I still do.   I personally was in agreement with my poet-prince Hywel, who saw Becket as a chameleon, changing his colors to match his environment.  I don’t mean that he was a hypocrite, just that he was a complex man—like his former friend the English king.   I think the best biography of Becket is the one written by Frank Barlow.  And I would definitely recommend Dr Warren’s biography of Henry, Kristen; it remains the most comprehensive study of Henry’s reign.  

          Joyce, I’m so pleased that you found Geoffrey so interesting.  I’ve always found him to be the most intriguing of the brothers, the one most maligned by historians.   It is fascinating to speculate how history might have been changed if he’d not died in that tournament.   Assuming that Richard still died without a legitimate heir, Geoffrey would likely have become King of England, for in a war of wills between Geoffrey and John, my money would have been on Geoffrey and Constance.  

     Hilary, I’ve not read any of Susan Cooper’s books; truthfully, I am not drawn to fantasy.  Ah, Koby, how I wish I could do a book tour in Israel!    Same for Australia.  But publishers almost never send writers out of the country.  Only once did my British publisher pay my airfare—for the Sunne tour—although they would always set up a tour if I came over on my own.   I’d seriously consider a trip to Israel on my own if I didn’t have such a tight deadline for Lionheart.

          Now…how about another book giveaway?  This one is for Falls the Shadow.  We recently learned that the St Martin’s edition of Shadow does not have a book club questionnaire, unlike Sunne, Dragons, and The Reckoning.   St Martins is interested in remedying that, so we’re looking for reader questions.   Anyone have any to suggest for Shadow?   All questions will be entered in the drawing, as we’ve done in the past.

         I am going to have to wrap this up now as I am having some serious problems with Word.  Actually, I think the culprit is my new wireless keyboard, which has been giving me nothing but grief.   I’ll close with a brief comment on Davydd ap Llewelyn’s illegitimate son.  No, I was not aware of his existence when I wrote Shadow.   Let me correct that—I’d heard of him, but wasn’t convinced that he was truly Davydd’s son.  So I found your comments, Ken and Koby, to be absolutely fascinating.    If only I’d had access to the Internet when I was writing Dragons!

August 14, 2009