Hunter S. Jones

A collection of scholarly papers with some tenuous connection to sexuality, presumably intended to attract hormonally challenged readers by a using the famous John Collier painting of Lady Godiva as a cover illustration.

Well, I bought it so apparently that strategy worked.

The first essay does, in fact, cover – or uncover – Lady Godiva. The legend is that she petitioned her husband, Earl Leofric, to reduce the tax burden on the citizens of Coventry; he offered to do so if she rode naked from one end of town to the other. She did so, and the citizens all shut their windows except for Peeping Tom, who was struck blind as a result. Author Emma Hadon-Wright traces the history of Godiva – Godgifu in Anglo-Saxon – and her legend. Both Leofric and Godiva were real people; Leofric is attested in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle as dying in 1057 and Godiva is recorded in the Domesday Book as owning extensive lands in 1066. She’s mentioned as a devout woman in John of Worcester’s Chronicron ex Chronicus, probably written in the 12th century, but the first mention of the naked ride comes in Flores Historiarum of Roger of Wendover, written sometime in the early 13th century. “Peeping Tom”, however, doesn’t show up until 1659.

The next essay, by Annie Whitehead, covers an encounter in 956 between the young king Eadwig and the Abbot of Glastonbury, Dunstan (latter St. Dunstan). Eadwig leaves a coronation banquet; Dunstan finds him in a ménage a trios with his wife and his mother-in-law. This is a lot more complicated to track down; Eadwig and Dunstan are certainly real people; Eadwig’s wife is attested as Ælfgifu, and Ælfgifu’s mother is attested as Æthelgifu. The trouble is there are more than 20 women named Æthelgifu from about the right time period and it isn’t clear which one is the lascivious mother-in-law. What’s more, it isn’t clear if the whole story was invented to justify a royal succession crisis or a dispute between pro- and anti-clerical political factions or both; Eadwig died young and was succeeded by his brother Edgar; Edgar also got in trouble with Dunstan over a woman, in this case Ælfthryth, who might have been married to somebody else; Dunstan upbraids Edgar for adultery. Ælfthryth later aquired a bad reputation; one chronicler accused her of murdering her stepson Edward by seducing him and having an attendant stab him in the back; another reported she was a witch who could turn herself into a mare for the purpose of enjoying stallions. The whole setup is pretty complicated.

An essay by Jessica Cale discusses the medieval concept of Courtly Love, including a general overview of love and sex in the Middle Ages. Cale makes the interesting comment that birth control and abortion were actually more tolerated then than more recently; she claims it was generally held that life did not begin until an infant took its first breath. She cites one religious authority (Burchard of Worms) as proscribing penance for abortion, and Burchard recommends lesser penance if the woman was poor and felt she would be unable to feed another child, or if she was a prostitute. Prostitution, in turn, was tolerated as a way to prevent men from harassing other women; it’s noted that the Church owned most of the brothels. Homosexuality also had some toleration; in particular it’s noted that lesbian sex was only considered a serious sin if it resulted in women rejecting their husbands. I wonder, though, if Cale is cherry-picking some of the accounts to find the more tolerant ones; the subject probably deserves a detailed book rather than a short essay.

Maryanne Coleman’s essay on “the Tudor Marriage Game” rehashes Henry VIII’s divorce situation and discusses some of the general principles of Tudor era courtship and marriage – the reading of the banns and the wedding night (a very public affair, with bystanders offering advice to the couple).

Judith Arnoff discusses a possible relationship between Anne Boleyn and the poet Thomas Wyatt, based on an admittedly imaginative reading of Wyatt’s poetry; apparently this has been suggested before but I don’t know enough about the situation to comment.

Gayle Hulme gives a capsule biography of Mary Queen of Scots, which is a relatively dry account without much comment on the sexual aspects.

Beth Lynne writes a short essay on royal succession, noting that the Succession to the Crown Act of 2013 now allows the eldest royal child (rather than the eldest male) to become the royal heir; drops the requirement that heir be a Protestant; and allows heirs six or more degrees away from the throne to marry without royal permission; she speculates on the changes in English history if such a law had been in effect in Tudor times.

The last essay is by the overall editor, Hunter Jones, and discusses Victorian attitudes toward prostitution, in England, France, and the United States; there are capsule biographies of three of the most famous courtesans of the era: Cora Pearl, Catherine Walters (“Skittles”), and Lily Langtry.

Overall, the book is uneven – as to be expected in a collection of essays. I found the earliest chapters about Anglo-Saxon England the most interesting, despite – or perhaps because – the records are so scanty.… (mehr)

As the last minutes of Anne Boleyn's life draw to a close, the decisions that she made and the actions of those around the doomed Queen come together to fulfill a prophecy told in the stars. From Lady Bliant, the woman who drew up the star chart for the best day for Anne's life to be taken, to King Henry who once loved her, to the year-old Daughter that she left behind and Queen Anne herself, all of the players in Anne's life examine how they have come to the the point where Anne's star will fave and Jane will rise like a phoenix in her place.

This novella concentrates on the last hour of Queen Anne Boleyn's life and is a quick must-read for any Tudor fans. Split into twelve sections, like the star chart that foretold her last day, twelve points of view are brought to light. As I have read in many other books, Queen Anne's deportment approaching the day was very composed throughout the last minutes of her life. However, in this version Anne's inner thoughts on the matter are revealed. I enjoyed her recounting her first memories of meeting King Henry and where it all went wrong. I also enjoyed reading from King Henry's perspective about the whole ordeal and his conflicting views at the time. The views of Anne's mother, the Princess Elizabeth, Jane Seymour, Thomas Cromwell and the swordsman rounded out the story and gave Anne's final moments depth and meaning.

This book was received for free in return for an honest review.… (mehr)