Eleanor the Queen: A Novel of Eleanor of Aquitaine

By Norah Lofts
Touchstone

I have to say... I feel a little duped. There is nothing in the book's presentation to suggest that Eleanor the Queen is a reprint of a 1950s novel by Norah Lofts. Apparently Lofts was a prolific and best-selling author known for her "authentic use of period detail." I hadn’t heard of her, but I don’t follow the historical novel market, I just read them. I did not, however, finish reading this. I forced myself to finish Part One of four, but I just could not go on.

Eleanor of Aquitaine was a remarkable woman. She was born in approximately 1122, and became the sole heir to her father’s vast property when he died in 1137. To protect her and her land, she was married to Prince Louis VII of France, who soon became king. When he rode to the Crusades, Eleanor went with him, bringing a coterie of other women with her. She was admired and compared to the Amazons. But the marriage became strained and ultimately ended. (And that’s just Part One—Eleanor went on to do a lot.)

Research tells me that Eleanor was intelligent, strategic, and ambitious. Norah Lofts tells me that Eleanor sat around waiting for things to change, twiddling her thumbs. She tells me Eleanor is intelligent, but somehow this "politically savvy" young woman didn’t know how big her land was until her uncle showed her on a map. Like in so much mediocre fiction, the writer makes statements about the character, setting her up to be admired, only to have the character's actions completely undermine those statements.

People always argue about historical fiction’s (lack of) accuracy. A scenario set in the tenth century is patchy enough that it’s possible to build an excellent story while sticking to the few known facts. Either Lofts did not have good information, or she ignored the facts completely.

Worst of all, the book is incredibly poorly written. The dialogue is hackneyed, the characters are just names and voices, downright boring passages drag on forever, and interesting events aren’t developed. The style is reminiscent of books written between 1700 and 1900, but it rings false, and is just an irritant. The narrative is aware of its own grandeur, wallowing in description without letting people or their actions speak for themselves.

I was so astounded by how poorly written Eleanor the Queen is that I began doing more research into the book and its writer. It was confirmed that Norah Lofts still has a devoted fan base. It was also confirmed that her facts are just wrong, totally contradicting that line on the back cover about her use of period detail. When I discovered that Lofts was born in 1904, I forced myself to rein in a bit. Older books do have a different style. That style doesn’t always appeal to modern readers, including me. But then I saw that Eleanor the Queen was written in the 1950s. It ain’t that old.

Margaret Mitchell wrote Gone with the Wind in 1936 and it blew my socks off; there’s no excuse for Norah Lofts.

This book would never make it out of a writing workshop.

Review by Richenda Gould

Graylight

By Naomi Nowak
NBM/Comicslit

The field of comics, also sometimes known as graphic novels, is dominated by male creators and readers. However, there's been increasing push in the last few decades by women to enter the field and make their mark. Though comics drawn by women are gaining popularity, most are classified as "indie," distributed by small publishers that may not be able to advertise or place volumes in prominent bookstores. Naomi Nowak's most recent graphic novel, Graylight, is designated indie, though it deserves to be appreciated by a wider audience.

Sasha is a German photographer on assignment somewhere in northern Europe, where the sun stays up all night in summer. She is a mysterious person, a foreigner. She attracts the attention of a journalist, and he invites her to join him on his quest to interview a famous recluse. The woman takes a disliking to both of them and refuses to grant him an interview. But Sasha leaves with her own prize—a book stolen from the house.

The woman's son follows her home to demand its return, and attraction sparks. But the reclusive old woman is no ordinary woman. She is a witch, with a grudge against women like Sasha, who play with men. When the witch's son takes an interest in Sasha, his mother takes action to destroy her. The witch's son is not Prince Charming, but he does save Sasha, changing his relationship with his mother. He asserts his independence, but in the end Sasha, true to form, leaves town to find some other hearts to break.

The plot summary is intriguing, yet its execution is not entirely clear. I found myself re-reading several times, trying to spot clues I may have missed. Plot is not Nowak's primary concern here—impressions of character and mood supersede coherency of plot.

Nowak is an artist who studied painting and illustration. She brings those skills to her comics, creating page after page of exquisite visuals. The colors are watercolor shades, ranging from pastel to flamingo and lime. The inking is both intricate and vague; symbolic or decorative flowers and crystals are detailed while faces and unimportant objects are only partially defined. Every knot in a sweater is drawn to give its precise texture but the shoes disappear into the background. Nowak focuses attention on what she wants the reader to notice. Pages where there's almost too much detail are deliberately overwhelming.

The style reminds me of the Japanese manga Paradise Kiss. Graylight is exquisitely rendered, and worth looking through for the art alone. Nowak's website contains examples from the book, a more compelling argument to pick it up than I could ever make.

Comics and graphic novels are not as easy to create and produce as some may think. Nowak has made something beautiful, if imperfect in its storytelling. I look forward to seeing her skills progress.

Review by Richenda Gould

Baba Yaga Laid an Egg

By Dubravka Ugresic
Canongate

When she sleeps, her nose scrapes the ceiling of her small cottage. Her breasts hang from a pole over the fireplace, and she has a leg made of iron. She lives alone in a hut on chicken legs, and her gates are topped with human skulls. Passing heroes can flatter her and order her to do their bidding, but heroines must serve her in order to win her favor. Baba Yaga, a complicated crone from Central and Eastern European mythology, is a theme explored and exploded in Dubravka Ugresic's Baba Yaga Laid an Egg.

The novel has three parts, all set in Central and Eastern Europe. In the first, a woman deals with her aging mother's increasing senility and travels to their hometown in search of memory and meaning. In the second, three old women visit a health resort to relax and rejuvenate; romance and death follow. The final part is a meta-level, scholarly treatise of Baba Yaga written written from the perspective of a minor character in the first story and as though a folklorist had teased out all the feminine symbols woven throughout the previous two stories.

Baba Yaga Laid an Egg is an exploration of women growing older in a post-Soviet state where distance between people is becoming the norm. Like Baba Yaga, the older women in these stories are dealing with their aging bodies, are often alone or isolated, and are frequently misunderstood, though they help or hinder other characters as they please. While these women are marginalized, they are definitely not powerless. They have the power to transform lives, and this is usually done through wealth they've accumulated during their younger years.

At its core, this is a book about women, bodies, and journeys. While Baba Yaga Laid an Egg is a thicket of fairytale symbols and references to life in the former Soviet bloc, it can be enjoyed by those who don't have a prior interest in either fairytales or the locale. Ugresic is a clever writer who shows in this book that imaginary lands are dangerous places and little old ladies aren't as toothless as they may appear.

Review by Catherine Nicotera