Lionheart [Paperback]

The works of Sharon Kay Penman are close to my heart - Here be Dragons is one of my favourite historical novels and I hold it responsible for my fascination with the 12th century (and I'm no medievalist). Penman's books are rich, long and full of flavour for the past. Their reading is not to be rushed, it should be dallied over, and so it's not surprising that their writing is equally painstaking and the publication of a new novel is an event. Lionheart is the latest, the first of two novels on Richard I (reigned 1189-1199), arguably the most fantastical of England's kings and certainly its most charismatic.

Sharon Kay Penman states that she had preconceived ideas about Richard - his unsuitability for kingship, his irresponsibility and arrogance, and his disregard for England - but that through her research for the other Plantagenet novels, she came to see another Richard: the Lionheart who inspired his men, thousands of miles from home, who shared their suffering and dreams, who fought bravely, with a realistic strategy, and who, after all, was never an Englishman. While Penman accedes that Richard was, or became, a bad husband and that his heart wasn't in England but in Aquitaine and on the battlefields of the Holy Land, she presents here the Lionheart that his men and family knew, not the one that history condemns. It's refreshing to find him both flawed and very likeable.

Lionheart covers the Third Crusade, which was far from glorious. The vast dramatis personae of the novel highlights the problem facing Richard - the Saracens were more honourable than the French and Austrians on his own side, so honourable that he even knighted some of them while they sent Richard fruit chilled by snow when he was ill. With the future of Jerusalem's royal family focused on a young woman, Isabella, who is married off from one rival faction to another, it would seem that all Saladin had to do was watch and wait. While the French abandoned the Crusade altogether, leaving their allies to support Richard in nothing but name, Richard was not able to direct the fighting where it counted. The Crusade was doomed; it was hot; there was disease; poisonous and irritating creatures; men were homesick; they saw dreadful things. Richard led from the front, often placing himself in danger, and inspiring great acts of courage from his followers - all resulting in the admiration of his enemy and chroniclers.

All this, Sharon Kay Penman evokes beautifully in a book where every page is a joy. From the outset, when we find ourselves experiencing the terror of a young girl, orphaned and shipwrecked and frightened, we are placed beside the witnesses and protagonists of history, whether they are Richard himself, his sister Joanna, the widowed Queen of Sicily, his young, brave and innocent bride Berengaria of Navarre, or the exciting and noble Henri of Champagne, the nephew of both kings of England and France. The perspective shifts wonderfully.

The style is not fast - instead, it is measured and deeply thought through. But Penman's extremely careful prose places the reader directly in the heart of Sicily, Cyprus and in the tents, towns and castles of the dangerous and inhospitable Outremer. The fabrics, foods, drinks, sounds and smells of life on Crusade are brought before us in a way I haven't experienced before in a novel of the Middle Ages. It's a dangerous world but women share it with men, including Richard's sister and bride from whom, almost unbelievably, he could not be parted. At times, I felt some frustration that we were kept back with the women but, elsewhere in the novel, women were banished from the frontline while we were spared nothing. This tension in narratives, though, is invaluable in creating the mood of the novel. Throughout the narrative is the reminder, constant in many of Penman's novels, of how extraordinary the Plantagenets were and what a gift they are to a novelist as fine as this.

Lionheart is a throwback to the novels that Sharon Kay Penman has rewarded us with through thirty plus years of superb, eloquent fiction - these aren't so much novels as chronicles. I'm fortunate to have read every one (can there be a better novel of medieval warfare than The Sunne in Splendour?) and I'll make sure I read every one to come.

I couldn't wait for the UK publication and so this review is from the US edition.

If you're already a Sharon Penman fan then there's no need to bring this latest book to your attention - like me, you were probably waiting for its UK publication date. And if you like weighty historical novels but for some reason you've missed out on this author, then I thoroughly recommend her to you - just don't start with this one.
Firstly, for the obvious reason that it's the latest in a towering series that began with When Christ and His Saints Slept (Eleanor of Aquitaine Trilogy 1), and it's always best to start at the beginning. But secondly because, although this is an impressive and absorbing read, it only gives you a flavour of what this author is capable of at her best, and for that you should start with one of her earlier books, like The Sunne in Splendour or Here be Dragons.
It's that combination of meticulous research and intelligent analysis of events and relationships, combined with the creation of some of the most real and unforgettable characters in historical fiction, that puts her in a league of her own. Once you've read her books, then the Penman version of people from history like Richard III or King John is stuck in your head forever, she's brought them to life so convincingly.
This latest one sets a new record for this most painstaking and thorough of authors, taking nearly 600 pages to cover just three years, 1189 to 1192. These were the years of the Third Crusade, during which Richard I had to fight against not only the armies of Saladin, but also his French allies and the fierce climate and terrain of the Holy Land.
It's an improvement on the relentless downhill slog though the final years of Henry II portrayed in Devil's Brood (Eleanor of Aquitaine Trilogy 3), but once again she's lost herself in all that research and love for her subject and written a chronicle, rather than a novel.
At least she's given us some interesting new characters this time, notably Richard's sister Joanna, but they're just pale shadows of her earlier creations, as is Richard himself. He's interesting, and he's credible, but she just doesn't get under his skin like she did his brother John in her earlier books. And I suspect he's not going to break my heart at the end like some of her earlier flawed heroes did, either (Simon de Montfort and his sons, for example).
If only she'd edited out some of those repetitive raids and ambushes (just because you've found a contemporary account of an event, must it always be squeezed into the narrative?) and invented some scenes showing us more of the man, which she managed to do with her other soldier kings like Edward I. And what a shame that she didn't make more use of the fictional Morgan, like she did his father Ranulf.
But this is a different sort of historical novel, the fictional chronicle, which she's made her own and which probably sets the pattern for all her future work. It's good, it's impressive, and it's what she's chosen to do. For me, anything by this author is worth reading. But - call me an old romantic - I miss the style of her earlier books, which swept me up into the personal relationships and the emotions as well as giving me an exhaustive account of the events. I'll look forward to this book's sequel, but the enthusiasm I felt when I discovered the Welsh trilogy and raced through it for the first time is definitely lacking.
If this was your first Penman novel I think it might leave you wondering what all the fuss is about: whereas if you started with 'Here Be Dragons' you wouldn't have any doubts - and you'd be hooked.
(Just one final gripe: this is an author who takes infinite pains with speech patterns and vocabulary to make her characters sound convincingly of the past without being corny. She usually succeeds - the odd americanism I can live with - but that word 'gotten' appears on nearly every page, and once I began to look out for it, it drove me mad ...)

One of the best things about the publication of a new Sharon Penman novel is that feeling of security which creates even higher anticipation - the consistency of her level of writing over the years has built up a real store of trust amongst her readership. Unlike some authors where a new release is met with anticipation mixed with nervousness by readers to discover if it will be a sensation or a flop, we know ahead of time that we're safe with one of Sharon's novels, we know that we're always going to get the high standard of research and writing that Sharon delivers. What a relief in the frequently hit and miss world of historical fiction!

I was intrigued ahead of time about how Penman would portray the very different worlds of Sicily, Cyprus and Outremer, compared to the familiar settings in her novels of western Europe, but in treating these locations and their unique environments and cultures with as much care and detail as she does our old stomping grounds of Wales, England and France, Sharon Penman creates these new places just as thoroughly and believably. As per usual, Sharon is tackling a political situation of intense complexity, with a veritable cast of hundreds of characters, but again by rendering this deftly and carefully she keeps everything clear and understandable. This is a point of particular importance for me, since so many historical fiction authors shy away from conveying the full story when the history gets complicated, and it seems to be out of fear that readers just won't understand and will then slam the book for being too confusing. Not once during the course of reading Lionheart did I feel confused or have to go back and re-read due to bewilderment. I cannot stress enough just how much this contributes to the overall quality of the writing. Precision with clarity - it's a winning combination.

Since I'm touching on the subject of historical accuracy already, a few more words on the matter: it's as high as one would come to expect from a Sharon Penman novel, and as ever the author's note - always a welcome courtesy in historical fiction - thoroughly addresses discrepancies and furthermore provides a wonderful glimpse into the research process of an historical novelist. Moreover, it reinforces that sense of trust, by creating a certain degree of openness and transparency, and the extensive bibliography was a joy for me as an historian, as I can now do the same research for myself on the points I loved in the novel and want to find out more about.

I think one of the key points of anticipation was wondering how Penman would portray Richard. We'd seen him as a prince before, got insights into his early years and glimmers of the man he would become, but you just know that everyone was waiting for the Lionheart king of semi-legendary status in the modern British consciousness to appear on the stage. What's wonderful about the character of Richard in this novel is that we get a rich blend of the larger than life figure and the real man - there's no mistaking Richard's military prowess and leadership presence, with an occasional dash of pomp and circumstance, but the down to earth, grounded man is also readily apparent, and the story is woven full of marvellous moments of private humour and personal intimacy. This is something I've said before in another review of a Penman novel, but you really believe that this could be the real Richard. I think this is another one of the big secrets of a great historical fiction novel - part of the fun and appeal is the idea of a glimpse into what really happened, and what our most fascinating historical people were really like, and getting this right is treading the line between immersion and disengagement. It's about believability.

It's not just Richard either - though his significance in this novel was such that I felt I had to address the point of his portrayal separately - but all the characters are a delight. Henri, André, Eleanor, Joanna, Berenguela... it's the subtlety in the way these characters have been built up. One of my favourites scenes has to be the dinner between Eleanor, Berenguela and their party and Constance and Heinrich and their party, after a chance meeting. It's simply magical. The political groundwork is set in place, the joy of knowing that this chance meeting actually happened and is not an implausible author invention, and Eleanor's moment to absolutely shine, drawing on all her past experiences and vast political acumen. I can't credit Sharon Penman enough for being able to write the subtle scenes of political discourse equally as well as the action scenes of chaotic battle.

Lionheart ticks all my boxes of what I look for in historical fiction: sophisticated writing, subtle characterisations, historical accuracy, and a coherent and compelling plot.