Myths are best served exploded, otherwise they can become overinflated and thus hide the substance of any dish. And if that dish is the national consciousness or identity of a nation, then that excess of eggs should be avoided, lest it become the overly elaborate norm.
In recent times the Tudors have become entertainment currency, and not only in the British media. From TV series to historical novels to feature films, we’ve seen a plethora of offerings, mainly Henry VIII and Elizabeth stories, it must be said. These often degenerate into period dramas or political intrigue whodunits, where precision is removed from the story to create the sort of simplistic plot cliché that the mass markets are seen as demanding. “Based on a true story”, that overworked and internally contradictory phrase, is now so overloaded that it would be better left out. “Built around historical names” would be better. And while there is nothing wrong with fiction, since it often allows for interpretations that defy received wisdom, there are real difficulties when that fiction becomes a myth whose acceptance becomes so pervasive that it cannot be questioned. It could be argued that the connotations associated with terms like Good Queen Bess, Golden Age, or simply Elizabethan are in danger of relying more on fiction than fact. Or perhaps these are nostalgic labels for contemporary ideal states thought to be lacking in our own times.
And so what an absolute delight it is to find a book like Elizabeth – The Forgotten Years by John Guy. This is a book that is truly based on true stories as this academic historian from Clare College, Cambridge references and describes any sources the reader may need to support any point. The deadlines are not stretched, the statement is supported by facts and the mystery can only obscure the facts when there is no evidence.
The forgotten years of John Guy’s title refer to the latter part of Elizabeth’s reign. The early years leading up to the Armada in 1588, with their many plots, propositions, matchmakers, and conspiracies, are the backdrop for most fiction. These last years were characterized by war, economic difficulties and political intrigue. Perhaps they were dominated by considerations of succession, since Elizabeth, of course, had no heir. It is worth noting here, however, that John Guy, by virtue of a discursive style that treats themes rather than a jumble of chronologically ordered events, offers much background material relating to the years before 1588 as context. Supposedly it is a selective encounter with the last years of Elizabeth’s reign and contains a very complete and detailed description of her entire reign.
John Guy makes several assumptions that should guide our understanding of the period. In the 16th century, he says, status did not take precedence over gender. Elizabeth was a woman, and that meant that many of the men at court had little or no respect for her, apart from acknowledging her birthright. And, because her mother was Anne Boleyn, whom her father married after denying her a divorce, even that was questioned by many, especially those of the old faith, who too would have wanted to do more than simply undermine this Protestant queen. . The author, by the way, is not implying that gender issues are or have been different in other centuries. As a professional historian, he is simply defining the scope of relevance to be attributed to his comment. Second, because Elizabeth was a single woman, the issue of succession had to dominate her reign. In her early years, this meant several struggles to find her a husband in the hope that she might materialize a male heir. But later, in the period John Guy’s book covers, Elizabeth was too old to have children anyway. The succession discussion, therefore, moved from matchmaking into more strategic and political territory.
In Elizabeth – The Forgotten Years, the queen is portrayed as a fundamentally medieval monarch. She saw herself as a descendant of God, a sure relative of all others who shared this enthroned proximity to the Almighty. She therefore dared not sign the death warrant of Mary Queen of Scots, believing that anyone’s decision to kill a royal would legitimize the practice, and who could be next? receive it in the neck? And since this by definition was a direct attack on God, it also resulted in damnation. Hence Elizabeth’s duplicity in letting it be known that she wanted to get rid of Maria and, at the same time, denying any responsibility for the act, which requires that the person who enacted her wishes be arrested for treason. These medieval royals were above reason, it seemed, as well as the law. And messengers, it seems, have always been fair game.
This unwillingness to sign a death warrant was not a weakness that plagued Elizabeth very often. It seems that the mere whiff of a plot or conspiracy quickly resulted in all scents being masked by the scent of fresh ink that formed her signature on an invitation to the Tower. John Guy’s book regularly takes us to the gallows with these doomed people, usually men, of course, and offers details of their fate. One particularly memorable phrase, specifically suggested by the queen, had a condemned man hanged by a single swing of the rope, so that he could then be cut down and, still alive and still conscious, witness his own guts and beating heart being placed on the ground. land next to him. In an age that still believed in the resurrection of the mortal body, these treacherous criminals had to be dismembered and their parts separated to ensure that their souls were never saved. It may have been the will of God, but it was certainly that of his reigning representative on earth.
This Good Queen Bess, by the way, had a habit of broadcasting similar fates quite regularly. She also refused to pay the salaries of the soldiers and sailors who fought for her, she dressed up while her war-wounded received no assistance or pension and were forced to sleep outdoors. She turned a blind eye to the disease and epidemic that ravaged her forces and her population. Elizabeth, the patriotic heroine, also, and perhaps deceptively, asked for peace with Spain, offering Felipe II conditions close to surrender if she and he could agree to share the economic interests between them.
He handed out monopolies to his brokers and lobbyists in exchange for a share of the profits. A real strength of John Guy’s book is the insistence on translating Elizabethan-era values into current terms. The resulting multiplication by a thousand reveals the extent to which the national finances were partitioned by the elites. While she was parsimonious when others should receive, Elizabeth for herself only demanded the finest and most expensive treatment. It was, after all, her right.
Elizabeth also had an English economy that raised high-seas robbery to a strategic goal. And her courtiers treated the expeditions as capitalist ventures, with ministers and the like participating in the ventures in exchange for a share of the loot. And much of this would be stolen before it was declared or when it was landed by handlers or simple thieves who clearly learned their morals and behavior from the so-called best. The market was apparently free, but those who operated it risked imprisonment.
Therefore, Elizabeth – The Forgotten Years will be a complete revelation to anyone who has absorbed the popular culture depiction of this era. John Guy’s book identifies the very human traits displayed by this pious queen and absurdly posits them along with her contemporaries’ attitude that she was a mere worthless woman.
There aren’t many figures in John Guy’s wonderful book who come out unscathed, either in reputation or in body. Nor is it out to destroy anyone’s reputation. As a historian, he presents evidence, evaluates it, and then offers an informed and balanced opinion. This, however, is healthy, as in the current climate populism is too often allowed to fuse its own version of history into its message. He does it to gain some control of a contemporary agenda through mythmaking, and Tudor melodramas are no exception to this rule. Elizabeth – The Forgotten Years demands that we accurately remember our real past in all its madness and in doing so destroy many dangerous myths.