Michael Schmicker's Blog - Posts Tagged "helena-schrader"
HOLY WAR (Book Review)
What do you get when you mix Ivanhoe, Horatio Alger and a dash of Simone de Beauvoir?
You get Helena Schrader’s “Knight of Jerusalem: A Biographical Novel of Balian d’Ibelin” – a cultured, captivating, 12th century love story packing a feminist punch.
Balian, a young, landless knight dispossessed by primogeniture, heads for Jerusalem to try his luck. By the grace of God, Christian Crusaders now occupy the Holy City, having wrested it from the heathen Muslims in 1099 – who themselves snatched it, inshallah, from the infidel Byzantine Empire in 638; whose pagan Roman forefathers, with Jupiter’s divine blessing, seized it from the Jews in 36 BCE; who, following their tribal God’s command, expropriated the city from its Canaanite owners a thousand years earlier. But it's 1171 now, and the Kingdom of Jerusalem is tense, anxious. Salah-ad-Din’s Saracen hordes are closing in on the tiny, Christian enclave. The wily Sultan of Damascus and Cairo is preaching jihad, determined to drive the godless Western invaders out of the Levant.
Balian finds the royal court crowded with young men from every noble house in France and England pestering the sovereign for favors and appointments. King Amalric quickly sizes up the penniless, idealistic d’Ibelin and makes him an offer – the promise of an orphan heiress if he agrees to teach horsemanship to young, crown prince Baldwin, son of his discarded first wife. The catch? Baldwin is a leper; it could be a death sentence. The pious Balian wrestles with his conscience. To refuse the boy help would be cowardice, perhaps even a sin (leprosy is a “holy disease,” a possible sign of Divine grace). Balian reluctantly accepts, and the relieved King turns his attention back to his pretty doll-child bride, determined to sire another male to replace his defective first.
Eighteen-year-old Queen Maria Zoe Comnena knows she’s simply a baby machine, gifted to Almaric at age 13 by her great-uncle, the Emperor of Constantinople, to cement political ties between the two kingdoms. In five years, she’s only produced a worthless girl for her balding, muscle-going-to-fat husband. The court gossip is cruel and scary. The King is contemplating dumping her for a more fecund bedmate – perhaps a mature widow with the proven ability to pop out sons. The 18-year-old Queen and her 10-year-old diseased stepson share a bond of affection, and understanding of the realpolitik they face – both of them are expendable.
By chance, the Queen one day bumps into the crown prince and his gallant tutor saddling up their steeds at the stable. Balian’s kindness to Baldwin impresses Maria; his handsome looks stir forbidden longings. When the prince suggests she join them for a ride, she accepts, and the rest is (largely factual) historical fiction at its finest – Almaric unexpectedly dying of dysentery; squabbling and intrigues over succession; forbidden love blossoming between Dowager Queen Maria and a courageous Balian beginning his rags-to-riches ascent; Salah-ad-Dinh’s horde of 10,000 soldiers marching on a weakened Jesusalem defended by a desperate, outnumbered band of Christian knights.
Schraders description of the decisive battle of Montgisard (November 25, 1177) is a delight. From strategy (attack at dusk or dawn?); to cavalry tactics (compact formation, stirrup to stirrup, initial shock, use of infantry to to protect knights and their destriers during hand-to-hand combat); to battlecries (“Jerusalem!” “Vive Dieu St. Amour!” “Allahu Akbar!”), to yellow-turbaned Salah-ad-Dinh bursting from his tent, scimitar flashing – the scene is sustained, vivid, tightly-written.
Schrader masterfully works into her narrative a sobering subtext highlighting the sexism pervasive in Medieval times. Source material on gender and history continues to grow. Simone de Beauvoir’s 1949 classic "The Second Sex" (placed on the Index Librorum Prohibitorum by the Vatican) included a groundbreaking look at sexist thought and practices in Western history. Her pioneering study – since augmented by volumnous research produced by women’s history programs – have made possible a wave of fresh, compelling historical fiction reflecting a female perspective. Schrader’s cast of women suffer a slew of historically accurate indignities, including forced, early marriages (by Canon Law, girls can “consent” to marriage at age seven); divorce if they can’t produce a boy (“Do they think we decide the sex of our children?” wonders Queen Maria’s maidservant); and sexual assault perversely turning the victim into a pariah. In one horrific scene, the fort at Ibelin is overrun by Muslims who gang-rape one of their own, a 13-year old girl who vainly recites the Koran to prove she is a Believer. The girl survives, and Balian’s forces retake the town, but the girl’s betrothed indignantly refuses to take her back because she’s now “unclean.” The girl meekly accepts his judgment. She’s now “worthless,” and “filthy,” and begs Balian’s sister-in-law to kill her. Hard times for women.
Schrader is eminently qualified to spin out a Balian biographical novel. She’s spent much of her life researching the Middle Ages and so far has penned six books set in this era, including her Knights Templar Trilogy. She also knows the Middle East. She’s presently on assignment as a diplomat with the U.S. Foreign Service in sub-Sahara Africa, 20 short miles across the Bab-el-Mandeb strait from the religious wars wracking the region today (including Jerusalem – which ISIL is vowing to retake as part of its 21st century caliphate.) Icing on the cake? Schrader’s a fanatical horsewoman who currently owns a hot, little Arabian stallion. Fighting on horseback, she emailed me, is something she can "visualize" with every muscle of her body. In short, she’s the perfect bard for Balian d’Ibelin.
Don’t miss this book. She’s nailed it.
You get Helena Schrader’s “Knight of Jerusalem: A Biographical Novel of Balian d’Ibelin” – a cultured, captivating, 12th century love story packing a feminist punch.
Balian, a young, landless knight dispossessed by primogeniture, heads for Jerusalem to try his luck. By the grace of God, Christian Crusaders now occupy the Holy City, having wrested it from the heathen Muslims in 1099 – who themselves snatched it, inshallah, from the infidel Byzantine Empire in 638; whose pagan Roman forefathers, with Jupiter’s divine blessing, seized it from the Jews in 36 BCE; who, following their tribal God’s command, expropriated the city from its Canaanite owners a thousand years earlier. But it's 1171 now, and the Kingdom of Jerusalem is tense, anxious. Salah-ad-Din’s Saracen hordes are closing in on the tiny, Christian enclave. The wily Sultan of Damascus and Cairo is preaching jihad, determined to drive the godless Western invaders out of the Levant.
Balian finds the royal court crowded with young men from every noble house in France and England pestering the sovereign for favors and appointments. King Amalric quickly sizes up the penniless, idealistic d’Ibelin and makes him an offer – the promise of an orphan heiress if he agrees to teach horsemanship to young, crown prince Baldwin, son of his discarded first wife. The catch? Baldwin is a leper; it could be a death sentence. The pious Balian wrestles with his conscience. To refuse the boy help would be cowardice, perhaps even a sin (leprosy is a “holy disease,” a possible sign of Divine grace). Balian reluctantly accepts, and the relieved King turns his attention back to his pretty doll-child bride, determined to sire another male to replace his defective first.
Eighteen-year-old Queen Maria Zoe Comnena knows she’s simply a baby machine, gifted to Almaric at age 13 by her great-uncle, the Emperor of Constantinople, to cement political ties between the two kingdoms. In five years, she’s only produced a worthless girl for her balding, muscle-going-to-fat husband. The court gossip is cruel and scary. The King is contemplating dumping her for a more fecund bedmate – perhaps a mature widow with the proven ability to pop out sons. The 18-year-old Queen and her 10-year-old diseased stepson share a bond of affection, and understanding of the realpolitik they face – both of them are expendable.
By chance, the Queen one day bumps into the crown prince and his gallant tutor saddling up their steeds at the stable. Balian’s kindness to Baldwin impresses Maria; his handsome looks stir forbidden longings. When the prince suggests she join them for a ride, she accepts, and the rest is (largely factual) historical fiction at its finest – Almaric unexpectedly dying of dysentery; squabbling and intrigues over succession; forbidden love blossoming between Dowager Queen Maria and a courageous Balian beginning his rags-to-riches ascent; Salah-ad-Dinh’s horde of 10,000 soldiers marching on a weakened Jesusalem defended by a desperate, outnumbered band of Christian knights.
Schraders description of the decisive battle of Montgisard (November 25, 1177) is a delight. From strategy (attack at dusk or dawn?); to cavalry tactics (compact formation, stirrup to stirrup, initial shock, use of infantry to to protect knights and their destriers during hand-to-hand combat); to battlecries (“Jerusalem!” “Vive Dieu St. Amour!” “Allahu Akbar!”), to yellow-turbaned Salah-ad-Dinh bursting from his tent, scimitar flashing – the scene is sustained, vivid, tightly-written.
Schrader masterfully works into her narrative a sobering subtext highlighting the sexism pervasive in Medieval times. Source material on gender and history continues to grow. Simone de Beauvoir’s 1949 classic "The Second Sex" (placed on the Index Librorum Prohibitorum by the Vatican) included a groundbreaking look at sexist thought and practices in Western history. Her pioneering study – since augmented by volumnous research produced by women’s history programs – have made possible a wave of fresh, compelling historical fiction reflecting a female perspective. Schrader’s cast of women suffer a slew of historically accurate indignities, including forced, early marriages (by Canon Law, girls can “consent” to marriage at age seven); divorce if they can’t produce a boy (“Do they think we decide the sex of our children?” wonders Queen Maria’s maidservant); and sexual assault perversely turning the victim into a pariah. In one horrific scene, the fort at Ibelin is overrun by Muslims who gang-rape one of their own, a 13-year old girl who vainly recites the Koran to prove she is a Believer. The girl survives, and Balian’s forces retake the town, but the girl’s betrothed indignantly refuses to take her back because she’s now “unclean.” The girl meekly accepts his judgment. She’s now “worthless,” and “filthy,” and begs Balian’s sister-in-law to kill her. Hard times for women.
Schrader is eminently qualified to spin out a Balian biographical novel. She’s spent much of her life researching the Middle Ages and so far has penned six books set in this era, including her Knights Templar Trilogy. She also knows the Middle East. She’s presently on assignment as a diplomat with the U.S. Foreign Service in sub-Sahara Africa, 20 short miles across the Bab-el-Mandeb strait from the religious wars wracking the region today (including Jerusalem – which ISIL is vowing to retake as part of its 21st century caliphate.) Icing on the cake? Schrader’s a fanatical horsewoman who currently owns a hot, little Arabian stallion. Fighting on horseback, she emailed me, is something she can "visualize" with every muscle of her body. In short, she’s the perfect bard for Balian d’Ibelin.
Don’t miss this book. She’s nailed it.
Crime King (BOOK REVIEW)
Philip IV was one greedy royal.
Le Roi de fer (the “Iron King”) ruled France with an iron fist, financing his costly, incessant wars by shaking down the Church, Jews, bankers, and the Knights Templar. When Pope Boniface VIII protested His Royal Highness’s heavy tax on the clergy, Philip accused him of heresy and set up a French anti-pope, Clement V, under his thumb. When Lombard bankers who financed his fight with England demanded repayment of their loans, he expelled them from France and seized their properties. In 1306, he drove the Jews from France, then forced their debtors to pay the Crown instead. In 1307, he turned his avaricious eye on the assets of the Poor Fellow Soldiers of Christ and the Temple of Solomon (aka the Knights Templar) – a militant, monastic order created in 1120 to do good by protecting Christian pilgrims visiting the Holy Land. The poor soldiers did very well indeed over the following two centuries; by the time Philip moved against them, the Order owned valuable properties and assets throughout Christendom, including France.
On Friday the 13th October, 1307, Philip fell on them like a falcon on a rabbit.
"The English Templar" is a captivating fictional account of this shameful event, and its disastrous effects on a noble French family brave enough to hide Sir Percival de Lacy, an English Templar caught in Poitiers when Philip pounces.
Author and historian Helena Schrader knows her century and her subject; two of her novels – "Knight of Jerusalem" and "St. Louis' Knight" – were recently named Finalists for the 2014 Chaucer Award for Historical Fiction. They’re among a suite of well-received novels Schrader sets in the so-called “Age of Chivalry.” Barbara Tuchman’s National Book Award-winning work, "A Distant Mirror," exposed the sour truth of a medieval age wracked by senseless, unending warfare that spared no one. Schrader’s "English Templar" echoes the coarse brutality of this calamitous era, while shining a harsh light on a corrupt, morally-compromised, pre-Reformation Church complicit with Philip in applying the dreaded tortures of the Inquisition to destroy the Templars. She wisely balances the horrors of the day with a sweet love story. Young Felice de Preuthune falls slowly but inexorably for the outlaw Sir Percy, and vice-versa. Standing in the way is Umberto di Sante, an ambitious, unscrupulous, young cleric, determined to enjoy Felice as his concubine. The Pope has one; why shouldn’t he?
The Knights Templar have fascinated novelists as far back as Sir Water Scott. "Ivanhoe" (1820) showcased a Templar Knight as villain. More recently, Italian author Umberto Eco ("Foucault’s Pendulum") and writer Dan Brown ("The Da Vinci Code") profitably wove the legenday fraternity into best-sellers. Schrader successfully mines the same literary gold, crafting a compelling, expertly researched, and provocative tale of her own.
If the Middle Ages are your dish, don’t miss this delicious literary feast.
Le Roi de fer (the “Iron King”) ruled France with an iron fist, financing his costly, incessant wars by shaking down the Church, Jews, bankers, and the Knights Templar. When Pope Boniface VIII protested His Royal Highness’s heavy tax on the clergy, Philip accused him of heresy and set up a French anti-pope, Clement V, under his thumb. When Lombard bankers who financed his fight with England demanded repayment of their loans, he expelled them from France and seized their properties. In 1306, he drove the Jews from France, then forced their debtors to pay the Crown instead. In 1307, he turned his avaricious eye on the assets of the Poor Fellow Soldiers of Christ and the Temple of Solomon (aka the Knights Templar) – a militant, monastic order created in 1120 to do good by protecting Christian pilgrims visiting the Holy Land. The poor soldiers did very well indeed over the following two centuries; by the time Philip moved against them, the Order owned valuable properties and assets throughout Christendom, including France.
On Friday the 13th October, 1307, Philip fell on them like a falcon on a rabbit.
"The English Templar" is a captivating fictional account of this shameful event, and its disastrous effects on a noble French family brave enough to hide Sir Percival de Lacy, an English Templar caught in Poitiers when Philip pounces.
Author and historian Helena Schrader knows her century and her subject; two of her novels – "Knight of Jerusalem" and "St. Louis' Knight" – were recently named Finalists for the 2014 Chaucer Award for Historical Fiction. They’re among a suite of well-received novels Schrader sets in the so-called “Age of Chivalry.” Barbara Tuchman’s National Book Award-winning work, "A Distant Mirror," exposed the sour truth of a medieval age wracked by senseless, unending warfare that spared no one. Schrader’s "English Templar" echoes the coarse brutality of this calamitous era, while shining a harsh light on a corrupt, morally-compromised, pre-Reformation Church complicit with Philip in applying the dreaded tortures of the Inquisition to destroy the Templars. She wisely balances the horrors of the day with a sweet love story. Young Felice de Preuthune falls slowly but inexorably for the outlaw Sir Percy, and vice-versa. Standing in the way is Umberto di Sante, an ambitious, unscrupulous, young cleric, determined to enjoy Felice as his concubine. The Pope has one; why shouldn’t he?
The Knights Templar have fascinated novelists as far back as Sir Water Scott. "Ivanhoe" (1820) showcased a Templar Knight as villain. More recently, Italian author Umberto Eco ("Foucault’s Pendulum") and writer Dan Brown ("The Da Vinci Code") profitably wove the legenday fraternity into best-sellers. Schrader successfully mines the same literary gold, crafting a compelling, expertly researched, and provocative tale of her own.
If the Middle Ages are your dish, don’t miss this delicious literary feast.
BRAG Medallion Award
Just found out that The Witch of Napoli has earned a 2015 BRAG Medallion award. A real honor.
You'll find some quality historical fiction on their website (www.bragmedallion.com). In an ocean of uneven indie prose, the medallion serves as a welcome beacon, guiding readers safely through the shoals of some embarassing literary wreckage out there.
I've already reviewed BRAG winner Helena Schrader's "Knight of Jerusalem" on Goodreads; and have teed up on my "To-Read" list books penned by a half-dozen other BRAG awardees, including Historical Novel Society's Helen Hollick (The Sea Witch Voyages Series) Aargh!; Sophie Perinot and colleagues ("A Day of Fire"); Paula Lofting's recent BookBub selection ("Sons of the Wolf"); Glenn Craney (two-time BRAG awardee); Janet Oakley ("Timber Rose") and J.D. Smith ("Tristan and Iseult"). Smith is a member of the vibrant Triskele Books collective whose authors include Liza Perrat, author of the excellent WWII novel "Wolfsangel" I reviewed on Goodreads.
Strong writers, all. I'm honored to share their online shelfspace.
You'll find some quality historical fiction on their website (www.bragmedallion.com). In an ocean of uneven indie prose, the medallion serves as a welcome beacon, guiding readers safely through the shoals of some embarassing literary wreckage out there.
I've already reviewed BRAG winner Helena Schrader's "Knight of Jerusalem" on Goodreads; and have teed up on my "To-Read" list books penned by a half-dozen other BRAG awardees, including Historical Novel Society's Helen Hollick (The Sea Witch Voyages Series) Aargh!; Sophie Perinot and colleagues ("A Day of Fire"); Paula Lofting's recent BookBub selection ("Sons of the Wolf"); Glenn Craney (two-time BRAG awardee); Janet Oakley ("Timber Rose") and J.D. Smith ("Tristan and Iseult"). Smith is a member of the vibrant Triskele Books collective whose authors include Liza Perrat, author of the excellent WWII novel "Wolfsangel" I reviewed on Goodreads.
Strong writers, all. I'm honored to share their online shelfspace.
Your Kingdom Come (BOOK REVIEW)
The “wheel of history” is an ancient concept, embedded in Hindu, Buddhist and other philosophies worldwide. Civilizations rise and fall and rise again, history endlessly repeating itself. Instead of humanity evolving inexorably higher (the Western view), we repeat the same errors, suffer the same consequences, are forced to start over. Progress is an illusion.
After finishing Helena Schrader’s finely-crafted Crusades novel, "Envoy of Jerusalem," the third in her Ibelin trilogy, I found myself sympathetically pondering the Orient’s morose view of history. The ‘Holy Land” suffered through nine Crusades (1095-1291). During those 200 years, cites are captured, lost, recaptured; fortunes are wasted; thousands perish on both sides, their lips praising their respective gods. And in the end, the wheel of history revolves one full turn, bringing us right back to where we started. Popes and kings tire of the conflict, turn their attention elsewhere, and status quo returns to the Middle East.
But we experience history as individuals. If the Crusades turned out to be a monumental waste of money and life, they still provide a dramatic stage for an unforgettable life.
Biographer Helena Schrader rescued the fascinating but largely forgotten Balian d’Ibelin -- knight, warrior and diplomat -- from the amnesia of time with her debut novel “Knight of Jerusalem” (2014), knocking the dust off his bones and bringing him back to life for thousands of delighted readers, including myself. http://bit.ly/2kJqEvX
Book two, BRAG medallion winner "Defender of Jerusalem" (2015), swiftly followed, the tale ending with Balian’s humiliation and the dramatic fall of Jerusalem to Saladin in 1187.
As book three starts, the shocking news has reached Tyre: Islam once again triumphantly occupies the Holy City. The site of Christ’s Passion, the home of the Holy Sepulcher is lost. But the wheel of history is turning, King Richard the Lionheart and an English fleet carrying 650 knights, 1,300 horses, and 1,300 squires are hastening to reinforce the beaten Christian forces and retake the lost city. The surviving Christian fighters are defiant.
“Salah-ad-Din, you have the Tomb.
But it is dark, deserted gloom;
For Christ is risen! And by our side!
We are alive and cannot die;
We will retake Jerusalem!”
Many trilogies today (both book and film) are tired, lazy, artless, commercial-driven disappointments. Three books and 1300 pages in, Schrader’s Balian biography remains fresh, powerful, gripping, the story-telling artful, the pacing superb.
Highly recommended.
After finishing Helena Schrader’s finely-crafted Crusades novel, "Envoy of Jerusalem," the third in her Ibelin trilogy, I found myself sympathetically pondering the Orient’s morose view of history. The ‘Holy Land” suffered through nine Crusades (1095-1291). During those 200 years, cites are captured, lost, recaptured; fortunes are wasted; thousands perish on both sides, their lips praising their respective gods. And in the end, the wheel of history revolves one full turn, bringing us right back to where we started. Popes and kings tire of the conflict, turn their attention elsewhere, and status quo returns to the Middle East.
But we experience history as individuals. If the Crusades turned out to be a monumental waste of money and life, they still provide a dramatic stage for an unforgettable life.
Biographer Helena Schrader rescued the fascinating but largely forgotten Balian d’Ibelin -- knight, warrior and diplomat -- from the amnesia of time with her debut novel “Knight of Jerusalem” (2014), knocking the dust off his bones and bringing him back to life for thousands of delighted readers, including myself. http://bit.ly/2kJqEvX
Book two, BRAG medallion winner "Defender of Jerusalem" (2015), swiftly followed, the tale ending with Balian’s humiliation and the dramatic fall of Jerusalem to Saladin in 1187.
As book three starts, the shocking news has reached Tyre: Islam once again triumphantly occupies the Holy City. The site of Christ’s Passion, the home of the Holy Sepulcher is lost. But the wheel of history is turning, King Richard the Lionheart and an English fleet carrying 650 knights, 1,300 horses, and 1,300 squires are hastening to reinforce the beaten Christian forces and retake the lost city. The surviving Christian fighters are defiant.
“Salah-ad-Din, you have the Tomb.
But it is dark, deserted gloom;
For Christ is risen! And by our side!
We are alive and cannot die;
We will retake Jerusalem!”
Many trilogies today (both book and film) are tired, lazy, artless, commercial-driven disappointments. Three books and 1300 pages in, Schrader’s Balian biography remains fresh, powerful, gripping, the story-telling artful, the pacing superb.
Highly recommended.
