I think I’m going to have to conclude that this was a good book, just not the right book for me. The premise is fabulous: most scholars have assumed that William Shakespeare had a terrible relationship with his wife and they completely discount her as an influence on his work. Germaine Greer promises to re-examine primary sources to explore the possibility that this misogynistic approach may be entirely wrong, and that Ann Hathaway may have played a larger role in Shakespeare’s life than has traditionally been thought.
Good so far. Greer than goes into a minute examination of every primary document that might shed some light upon Shakespeare’s or Hathaway’s private lives, with further exploration into the lives of other families in Stratford in the same era to provide some background into what life, and marriage, was like in that place and time. She is scathing in her condemnation of other writers who make completely unsupported (and unsupportable) assumptions about Shakespeare’s marriage, but all her research reveals is that so little is known about the private life of England’s greatest playwright that no assumptions about his marriage — including Greer’s own — can possibly be supported from the evidence.
This historical novel, like the Pauline Gedge series on Egypt I read lately, had both the advantage and the drawback of being set in a world I know almost nothing about. Unlike, say, Vanora Bennett’s Wars-of-the-Roses England in Figures of Silk, where I already know the setting and the major players and I just have to fit these new characters into the story, a novel set in ancient Egypt or 1860s Japan has to work a lot harder to bring me up to speed. But once I’m drawn in to the setting, there’s so much more to learn, since I firmly believe (as I may have mentioned ad nauseum), that a good historical novel can teach you more about a time and place than all the history books every written.
This was an absolutely captivating historical novel, set in the Wars of the Roses era but featuring behind-the-scenes middle class characters rather than the royalty and nobility whose stories are so familiar from that era (although they do make a appearances as well).
I love serendipitous books, as I’ve mentioned before — those unexpected discoveries you’d never pick up unless you saw them on a library display or heard someone recommend them. Or were in an online book club where people suggest books they’ve liked, as was the case with Incident at Badamya. I wouldn’t have come across this book otherwise, but I’m glad I did.