Book 11

June 8 - 10

Hulk is Angry

I hadn't had the slightest notion that "The Constant Princess" by Philippa Gregory would piss me off so much. I started taking notes from the very first page, my annoyance building with every next passage. After page 35, I just stopped writing down all the flaws I came across because by that time I had already wasted a pile of paper on that.

I'm not going to talk about historical accuracy because, first, I'm not a historian, and second, I don't know to what extent the author wanted to stick to the facts. What I am going to talk about is the narration itself, the characters, the plot and simple logic.

The story revolves around Catalina, Princess of Spain and Wales, the Catalina, who later became Henry VIII's first wife and suffered a fate of a queen in exile. In "The Constant Princess", her journey starts when she is five, and, believe me, I thought I would never say such a thing, but I hated this five-year-old child.

First of all, she doesn't sound five-year-old. Secondly, she sounds like a spoilt, self-loving and egotistic bitch. I get it that royal children were brought up in a different way, they were taught Latin earlier than they were able to hold a spoon, but, no, I don't believe a little child could say to her nurse: "If I, the Princess of Wales herself, can be left in a burning campsite, then you, who are nothing but a Morisco anyway, can certainly endure it." Also, this is a very strange way to make the character relatable. And again, I understand that royal children were brought up with the idea of their superiority, but only a really fucked-up child would say this to her loving nurse.

Apart from Catalina, other characters are rather cardboard. Some of them are just mentioned in passing, like her sisters, which, in some cases, creates a strange feeling that no one except Catalina matters. Like in the scene where the camp is set on fire, but Isabella, Catalina's mother, only cares about her younger daughter Catalina. Other princesses are simply there, they are extra with no features.

In the beginning of the story, Isabella of Castile and Ferdinand of Aragon, Catalina's parents, lay siege to Granada, the last kingdom of the Moors in Spain. This event is described on 27 pages with only one aim - to show how brave and unstoppable Isabella was, and what impact her personality had on little Catalina and her whole life. Except, the author has a very peculiar notion of Isabella's bravery and decisiveness. Several times the reader is told that the woman is a battle axe and a talented ruler, but to me, she seems a short-sighted and extremely stupid goose. She takes her three daughters, including five-year-old Catalina, on a scouting mission. Seriously?! She goes to the village near the city they lay siege to with three princesses. When they are attacked by the Moors, Isabella climbs onto the roof of some hut and... no, she doesn't shoot arrows at them like Legolas... she starts praying! Yes, it is a historical fact that their royal family were extremely religious, but I highly doubt they won their battles by praying! Praying didn't make Isabella and Ferdinand great conquerors! But this fucking woman kneels on the roof, exposed to all enemies, and prays!

As for the logic of the plot, well, judge yourself. One of the generals in Isabella and Ferdinand's army, Hernando, knows a secret passage into the city they lay siege to. And he uses this knowledge to pull off a prank - to leave Ave Maria stabbed to the floor in the Moors' mosque. Why not use this knowledge to invade the city? WHY? God! What an imbecile would do such a thing?

Some dialogues nearly killed me. Instead of describing a horse that must have looked terrifying because "its lips were cut off to make it snarl at the enemy", the author gives us an exchange between Isabella and her daughter Catalina.
'His horse looks so frightening, like it wants to bite,' Catalina.
'He has cut off its lips to make it snarl at us. But we are not made fearful by such things. We are not frightened children,' Isabella.

These are just talking heads like in a very cheap movie where exposition is delivered through dialogue.
Even though Isabella is portrayed as a religious zealot, ready to pray in the middle of the battle field, she sometimes says very controversial things. She keeps calling the Moors heretics and unbelievers, but then claims that Yarfe, one of the Moors' knights, and all other knights of Granada, are honourable men. No, no, no! You can't hate your enemy because of their belonging to another religion and consider them honourable. Catholics and Muslims hated each other so much that they spent decades killing each other. Isabella's democratic take on the enemy's honour contradicts the nature of her character and the nature of war in general.

What is more, after Granada is finally taken, Isabella, Ferdinand and their children appear in the city in the attires of the Moors, in their rich silks and turbans. Why? Why would Christian royal family do such a thing? Why would conservative Catholic women dress in Muslim gowns? Are they a travelling circus?

And, of course, there is a bouquet of the most beaten clichés in this story, such as the main heroine, Catalina, being a desire of all men's hearts. Adult she arrives at the court of Henry VII. The king immediately feels desire impulse in his temples and, of course, in his groin. His son Arthur behaves like a clumsy teenage girl when Catalina is near. His younger brother, Henry, later Henry VIII, falls in love with her too. Obviously, men in this story are turned on by bitchy girls who tell them what to do and overestimate themselves.

All in all, this novel became a disappointment of the year for me. I can't find any redeeming qualities in it, so I don't even bother to give it any score. I feel sorry for my eyes which had to strain so much to read these endless 500 pages.
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Published on June 11, 2019 14:38
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