Read it a few years ago and loathed it, absolutely loathed it.I'll begin with a few things that I did like. The list of characters at the beginning is very helpful, and I like the system of 'Historical Notes' at the end of the novel, even if they're not always totally accurate (I don't know why the younger Despenser's claim to the earldom of Gloucester was 'fantastic'). As for the characters, I liked seeing the earl of Kent in Gascony in 1324 - normally Kent never appears in Edward II novels until his attempt to rescue his brother the king in 1330, so it's refreshing to see another side of him here. Also, Roger Mortimer is pretty sympathetic here, which he rarely is in novels. His relationship with Isabella in Paris in 1325 is very nicely portrayed as a genuine love affair. His escape from the Tower proves that he's resourceful and courageous, and unlike the rest of the English characters, he's 'so handsome and so great a lord' with a 'strong, confident body'. Mortimer at least has genuine grievances against Edward and Despenser.The rest of the characterisation, at least of the English characters, is just horrible. Edward II himself is so utterly feeble you can only feel contempt. Mortimer is the only remotely sympathetic English character. And the biggest problem I have with the novel is that, despite the title, it's really not about Isabella at all. It's a novel about France which happens to include some scenes set in England. OK, it's a series about French history - but then why call this one 'The She-Wolf of France' when Isabella and Edward only appear in a handful of scenes? Most of the novel is set in France. The death scene of Charles of Valois, Isabella's uncle, goes on interminably.The only time Edward and Isabella appear together (and one of only four scenes where Edward appears at all) is in the second scene of the novel, after the Prologue and Mortimer's escape from the Tower. Isabella is sitting on her throne whinging to the French ambassador about her awful life when Edward, the Despensers and some of the English nobles enter the room. Isabella then proceeds to insult Edward, over and over, in front of the whole court. Neither Edward nor Hugh Despenser respond to her insults - they blush, pretend not to hear, change the subject. This is a really bad way of writing fiction: the scene should have crackled with tension, as Edward and Isabella exchange (spoken) blows and witty repartee. As it is, Edward and Despenser seem totally pathetic, no match at all for Isabella. Another bad way of writing fiction - it would make for a much better novel to equalise their opposition, to make us see why Isabella hates them and wants to destroy them. Also, giving Edward the ability to hit back would have given the reader a glimpse into their awful marriage, and possibly lots of other interesting information like the impending war with France. But there's no insight at all. As it is, the scene just makes Edward even more pathetic, if that's possible. The French ambassador Bouville thinks that Isabella is 'brave' to stand up to the king, but it doesn't seem so to me - in fact, it seems cruel, like kicking a man who can't kick back. The narrative claims that Isabella is 'surrounded by so much hatred', but we never see this. We only see that all the hatred is coming from her.Druon tells far more than he shows, and what he shows is different from what he tells us. It's pointless to state in the narrative that Isabella 'suffers' when the reader never sees it. All that she seems to 'suffer' in this scene is having to put her feet on a threadbare footstool. Well, boo-hoo. It's also stated that she believes her life to be in danger from the Despensers. When we see the Despensers, however, it's hard to imagine that they could even find their way to the privy by themselves, never mind plot to have the queen of England murdered.Druon tells us that Edward II is 'handsome', a 'fine-looking man, muscular, lithe and alert' with an 'athlete's constitution'. Yet the details used to describe him make him grotesque. He has pouches beneath his eyes, an 'uncertain line of the curve of the nostril', an overly large (but weak, naturally) chin and a spine that 'curved unpleasantly from the neck to the waist, as if the spine lacked substance'. A deformed back in an athlete? Really? Oh, and his hands are 'flaccid' and 'flutter aimlessly', he pirouettes, he stamps his foot. Lovely.His friends fare no better. His niece Eleanor (Hugh Despenser's wife) has 'that quality of ugliness imprinted by a wicked nature'. Hugh Despenser (the younger) is 'too curled, scented and over-dressed for a man of thirty-three'. He is narrow-chested and has a 'bad, spotty skin'; later in the novel he is 'wide-hipped and pigeon-breasted' though Druon does allow him a 'well-shaped mouth'. Despenser's father, called 'the weasel', apparently, is described thus: 'cupidity, envy, meanness, self-seeking, deceit, and all the gratifications these vices can procure for their possessor were manifest in the lines of his face and beaneath his red eyelids'.It is predominantly, though not exclusively, the English characters who are described in such terms; Jeanne the Lame, wife of Philip of Valois, has a face 'made hideous by the avarice of her thoughts'. Even Isabella is constantly said to have 'little carnivore's teeth' though she does have 'beautiful blue eyes' and her 'beauty was unrivalled by that of any young girl.'The younger Despenser's 'expression seemed to imply: "This time things have really gone too far; we shall have to take stern measures!"' I have tried, and failed, to imagine what this expression would look like. Like most of this scene with Edward, Isabella and the Despensers, it makes no sense. And if he's really the kind of man who would plot to have the queen murdered, shouldn't his expression be more sinister?I found it utterly impossible to summon up a shred of sympathy or liking for these despicable people. They are ugly and repulsive to the point of being grotesque, yet are not villainous enough to be interesting. My reaction was to recoil from them. At least the elder Despenser dies well. That's the best thing you can say about any of them.A lot of the dialogue is pitiful - almost entirely the dialogue spoken by the English characters. When the French characters speak, they make sense. Edward's last line before he is murdered (with the usual, mythical red-hot poker) is "Oh you brutes, you brutes, you shan't kill me!" Dignified and moving, no? No? Unfortunately, it makes me giggle every time I think about it. At the time of the arrest, 'Hugh the Younger, emaciated, trembling, threw himself on the king's breast. His teeth chattered, he seemed about to swoon and he groaned: "You see, it's your wife who has ordered all this. It is she, that French she-wolf, who is the cause of it all. Oh, Edward, Edward, why did you marry her?"'Umm, because he was the king of England and she was the daughter of the king of France, and their marriage was part of an arrangement between the two countries - as Despenser well knew? Despenser was a pirate. Not to mention a clever, ruthless extortionist who had been ruling England for a few years. Would he really talk and behave like that??The only line the future Edward III gets in the whole novel is "Oh no, you wicked woman, you shan't have everything!" (spoken to his cousin Eleanor Despenser about a book she wants). But we do get some stunning insight into his thoughts while watching the younger Despenser's execution: "Is that really the man my father loved so much?" Superb, really.A lot of the novel is psychologically unconvincing. For example, Mortimer's wife Joan de Geneville ('Lady Jeanne Mortimer') is dealt with in a single paragraph: 'Lady Jeanne suffered terribly from this betrayal by the two people in the world she had loved and served best. Did fifteen years of attendance on Queen Isabella, of devotion, intimacy and shared risks, deserve such a reward?.....Lady Jeanne, who had always been so loyal, found herself among the vanquished. And yet she could forgive, she could retire with dignity, precisely because the two people she most admired were concerned and because she understood that these two people were bound inevitably to fall in love as soon as Fate had brought them together."How convenient. That gets rid of her, doesn't it? Saves Isabella and Mortimer from having to feel guilty, and Druon from having to deal with the thorny problem of Mortimer's adultery. This often happens in novels - Joan de Geneville is either ignored, or made so dull and sexless that nobody could ever blame Mortimer for preferring the beautiful, exciting Isabella. Strangely, nobody ever uses this excuse for Edward II. Maybe he found Despenser a lot more exciting than his wife.I don't mean to tread on anyone's toes here, and I know Druon has many fans. However, this is a really poor effort, and I haven't even mentioned the numerous historical inaccuracies (Henry of Lancaster was not called Crouchback - that was his father; Despenser became Edward's favourite in the years 1318-20, not 1312). I finished the novel, because I can't imagine ever not finishing a novel which includes Edward II and Isabella, but everyone here is so despicable I felt like taking a bath after I'd read it. No - make that several baths.
Going into The She-Wolf, the fifth book in Maurice Druon's The Accursed Kings series, I had my expectations under control. The Royal Succession is my favourite book in the series thus far, and it is a TOUGH act to follow. All the scheming and backstabbing are amped up in book four, and Druon held nothing back with the hard punches. So, as the follow-up act, The She-Wolf was already at a slight disadvantage. However, I really wanted to read about Isabella of France (the She-Wolf), and I was hoping for her to be the yang to Mahaut d'Artois' yin. I am slightly disappointed in that department, now that I have finished the book, but more on that later. The She-Wolf actually jumps ahead and skips over the reign of Philip V, the one good king in a sea of incompetent, corrupted dicks in medieval France. Druon writes at the beginning that nothing eventful happened during Philip V's reign, which was why he decided to skip over the details—which just goes to show how good a king Philip V was. No wars were fought, no barons were poisoned, and no queens were left to rot in a high tower. Perhaps that is why Druon preferred to skip over the mundane, but that's a good thing! After an introductory chapter, or a summary of Philip V's reign, we are right back to the meat of the story. Here, Philip V is dead (natural causes), and Charles IV, his brother, is king. Meanwhile, France is having some disputes with England over Aquitaine (thanks to—who else—Robert d'Artois), and, long story short, Isabella of France, Edward II's wife, is sent to France to negotiate peace terms. Here's what the history books has to say about Isabella of France. She was married off to England by her father, Philip IV, like a political chess piece. And, the fact that the King of England turned out to be gay did not help with the situation at all. Despite giving birth to a handful of heirs for Edward II, Isabella longed to return to France, her birthplace. The conflict between France and England, and her role as an emissary of sorts, became the perfect excuse for Isabella to make her escape. So, she escapes England, raises an army (with the help of her lover), invades England, kicks Edward II out of the throne, puts her son (Edward III) there, executes everyone who has done her wrong, then WINS HISTORY. That's some Mahaut d'Artois level shit, right? If history has taught us anything, it is that you do not mess with medieval women, because they will go medieval on you. But The She-Wolf does not actually depict Isabella as such. The broad strokes are there, of course. You see Isabella's flight from England, and you see how she raises and army in her name. But the She-Wolf in Druon's depiction has lost some of her fangs. Instead of the ruthless, empowered queen we've come to know in the history books, Druon's version of Isabella is a tad too vulnerable, especially when most of her decisions were swayed by her hatred towards the Dispensers and her love for Roger Mortimer. I don't mind if we get to see a more vulnerable side of a powerful female character. In fact, I LOVE reading about that. However, in this book, Isabella seldom makes any decision. Instead, the people around her are the decision makers; the ones calling the shots. She wasn't the one who devised a plan to leave England, and she wasn't the one to raise the army. Instead, everybody else made plans for her, and she went along with it. The only time when I felt her bite was during her conversations with Edward II and the Dispensers. Those scenes were masterful, and the She-Wolf really came out to play. But after Mortimer was introduced to the picture, she became a tamed little house dog with her teeth blunted. A little disappointed, to that end. Also, I am a little disappointed with the lack of the Marie Cressay and Guccio Baglioni story line. After the incredible twist at the end of The Royal Succession, I was hoping for a look at how the two have dealt with the situation. Instead, we got one chapter in the book, and the two don't even meet! Throughout the first four books, the two were the shining lights of humanity, and even though the light was dimmed considerably in the last book (due to circumstances), I was still rooting for them. I wanted them to work out! Yet, we got one chapter out of this book, which is a little disappointing to me. So, why the four-star rating? That's because Druon's writing continues to be a powerful, plot-driving machine. He has the ability to create characters (although they are based on real people) that you hate at the beginning, then turn them around for your sympathy towards the end. Edward II comes across as an unless, incompetent who is driving England into the mud with his bad decisions. Yet, towards to end, I couldn't help but sympathise with him a little, when he was kicked off his throne, arrested in the countryside, thrown in prison and later assassinated—in the most horrible way, may I add. I'm not the kind of reader with a weak stomach, but that last chapter ("The Red Hot Poker) really got to me somehow. It was tough to read, and I genuinely wanted a different fate for Edward II. Of course, history will tell you that his death is shrouded in mystery, and some people continue to believe that he died of natural causes. Others believe that he was assassinated, but the METHOD continues to be debated. I just HOPE, for the love of GOD, that the actual method did not involve Druon's red hot poker. Edward II was a piece of shit, but no one deserved his death. Anyway, that's why historical fiction is so great. We get to speculate, and that's super fun. The Lily and the Lion will be published in February (in paperback anyway), and I cannot wait to get my hands on it.
What do You think about La Loba De Francia (2006)?
En este tomo, Druon nos lleva de Francia a Inglaterra, en donde las cosas no estaban mejor que en el continente. La reina francesa Isabel, despreciada por su marido, se refugia en la corte de su hermano y se une a los rebeldes ingleses, entre ellos Mortimer, quien acaba por convertirse en su amante. Juntos derrocan al rey Eduardo II, e incluso lo asesinan bárbaramente. Druon es un maestro en novelar la historia. Personajes tan ricos y fascinantes como Isabel, Eduardo, Mortimer, Roberto de Artois, Carlos IV, se hacen plenamente humanos. Una cosa me molestó: noto cierta homofobia en Druon siempre que habla del rey Eduardo II. Es cierto, era homosexual; es cierto, se dejó manejar por sus favoritos; cierto también que humilló a la reina y que fue un mal rey, pero Druon parece incluso asqueado de las "relaciones perversas" de ese rey con sus amantes, de que se expresaran cariño públicamente, incluso de que se amaran. Y no lo hace en desde el punto de vista de Isabel, a quien eso no le importaba desde lo moral sino desde su orgullo herido de princesa francesa, sino desde una postura aparentemente conservadora y moralista. Claro, el libro se editó en 1957... De cualquier modo, un libro que se disfruta mucho. Y que deja con ganas de atacar de inmediato el siguiente.
—Rodrigo
For a translated book, I really loved this novel, and the following five books in the seven book series (the seventh apparently has not been translated from French yet, and there's no way I'm corrupting my budding Spanish language skills by attempting to read a novel in French). I am normally super wary about reading translated works, because, understandably, something always gets lost in the translation. This translator, Humphrey Hare, back in 1958 when he was doing his thing, did a fantastic j
—Jessica
La Loba de Francia es el trágico sobrenombre que los cronistas de la época le dieron a Isabel, hija de Felipe el Hermoso y reina de Inglaterra, quien pareció trasplantar la maldición de los templarios al otro lado del Canal del Mancha. En este volumen, Maurice DRUON continúa narrando los hechos que llevarían a la caída del rey Eduardo II.Si bien esta parte de la historia sigue siendo sumamente interesante, la lectura podría hacerse un poco cansada, sobre todo si se vienen leyendo los cuatro tomos anteriores al hilo. Isabel de Francia fue sin duda una mujer desgraciada, hasta el punto que terminó sus días amargada y odiada por todos, la pena que inicialmente sintieron por ella sus súbditos, terminó transformándose en odio y rencor. Su propio hijo renegó de ella y ordenó su reclusión perpetua. Su pecado fue posiblemente el desear aquello que le fue negado por nacimiento: amor.
—Martin Hernandez
