It is late August 1485. King Richard III has summoned a faithful campaigner to the White Boar Inn at Leicester, prior to a likely battle. The latter’s task is two-fold: to return an old gift, a great ruby - the ‘Tear’ of Byzantium - to the Doge of Venice; and to give protection to a young, recently knighted lad if Richard should fall in battle. The same henchman, Sir John Hawker, had originally borne the gem from Venice to King Edward IV – it was never to be sold, only returned to the giver.
From then on, this character driven plot keeps the reader’s interest to the end. Hawker is a 49 year-old warrior – “he was a henchman, a king’s knave and he knew it”. He had not only fought at Towton, at Barnet and Tewkesbury, but had spent time as a condotierro abroad – for the Venetian Republic (through a mercenary’s contratto) in Bosnia and then in Austria and France. Shades of a real life near namesake, Sir John Hawkwood (c.1323-1394)? A return to Venice means also a return to a married lover. Hawker is an ageing, flawed character and it is in his description of the man’s inner turmoil, his mistakes, his bursts of energy and, above all, loyalty that the author has created a living soul.
Hawker is supported by an equally realistic and compelling cast of characters. They include his long-time chief man-at-arms, Flanders born Jacob de Grood; 14 year-old Jack, a Lincolnshire lad who slowly realises his role “in this grim pageant was now becoming clearer. And it was like a bit of gristle between the teeth, not easily shifted”; Sir Roger Beconsall “a brash knight, built like a siege tower and with a head as empty as a beggar’s pantry”, a braggart but good in a fight; and the young Breton, Gaston Dieudonné – “tall, curling brown hair to his shoulders, a dark complexion with hard cheekbones and a thin nose - who had never trusted anyone in his entire life, only his instincts” and a calculating bisexual. Each of the above are realistically delineated, genuine in their individuality; there are no caricatures. We know King Richard had two illegitimate children – John of Pontefract and Katherine Plantaganet - well, here’s a third: the lad entrusted to the care of Hawker, known as Sir Giles Ellingham. Son of a miller’s daughter at Middleham, the 18 year-old learns from Hawker who he really is. Again, Bale skilfully develops the lad’s awakening to his ancestry.
Bale is able to bring to life other figures in his story: Richard III, always spinning webs to his advantage, but whose sister, Duchess Margaret of Burgundy, dismisses as a fool, “a fool who has destroyed his entire house”. Now, ceaseless worry had led to “a gauntness in those cheeks, a weariness in the eyes, crow’s feet spreading towards the temples and a brow as furrowed as a villein’s furlong”. Margaret herself, “with large grey eyes, birdlike and almost unnaturally round. Her chin was as sharp as a rose thorn”; and the mysterious Maria Hunyadi, kin to Matthias Corvinus, who plays a major role in the denouement.
The author is equally adept at describing the maelstrom of Bosworth; the claustrophobic fight in the Bishop’s Lynn tavern; the swift destruction of brigands on the road to Italy; the sinister meeting with the three Capi of the Council of Ten in the windowless, stuffy upper room of the doge’s palace; and the battagliola, or mock battle, with the San Polo and Santa Croce contingent against the men of the Dorsoduro. He has a pleasing turn of phrase, whether it is describing the Venetian light changing “from azure blue to ultramarine, to amethyst”, or the ‘Tear’ as “a large blood-red oval with a surface as uneven as a crumpled bedsheet”.
Compelling and authentic characters; a tight narrative which drives the story forward with verve; an artistic description of scenes; one or two ‘earthy’ moments; dialogue which is neither mock Gothic nor anachronistic; all allow the reader to feel part of the sounds and sights of the late 15th century, almost as a participant in the tale. The novel deserves high praise.
No comments:
Post a Comment