Book review: "Wars of the Roses: Stormbird", by Conn Iggulden (part 1 of a 4 part series)

Synopsis: Detailing an often over-looked part of English History, "Stormbird" essentially lays out the foundations and build-up to the War of the Roses (1455-1487). Henry VI, a physically weak king who many see as unfit to rule, still clings on to power. With such a lack of faith in the king's abilities to lead, a well meaning (but ill-conceived) attempt to secure peace with France for the next 20 years is arranged- a marriage between Henry VI and France's Margaret of Anjou. Happy to be out of her oppressive father's house and become something in life, Margaret is ready to take on her new responsibility as joint-sovereign of England. But, it comes with a catch- the English owned regions of Maine and Anjou are handed back over to France as soon as the matrimony is complete. Feeling they've been betrayed by their king, grieved landowners gather around the violent and tumultuous Jack Cade, who marches on London with the intent of bloody revenge against the royals for their injustices. Meanwhile, there's conspiracy within the ranks of the ruling class, as Richard of York plots and schemes in an effort to become King of England. With no heir to speak of, London at a knife's edge, and powerful men out for her husband's crown, Margaret realises that far from the hard life being over for her- it has only just begun.

Review: As previously mentioned, the period that this book describes is not one of the most memorable from your history lessons. Shortly put, you say the word "Henry", you think "the 8th" (or "Hoover"). The exploits of Henry (NOT the 8th) VI and Richard of York (NOT Richard III), for many, have gone largely unnoticed, apart from at least 2 Shakespeare plays dedicated to them.

Still, perhaps this is part of this book's appeal- the fact that it gives you a chance to plug-up gaps in your knowledge. It'll be a delve into the unknown for many- an opportunity to read the story of an ACTUAL event as if it were the first time... which it undoubtedly will be for many! Famous historical events sometimes become SO famous, that they actually become LESS true. Newton was never hit on the head by an apple, Vikings didn't wear horned helmets, and Einstein wasn't bad at maths as a child. See?

Richard III

Richard Duke of York

So, imagine hearing the details of Napoleon- before you were blind sighted by the false rumour that he was short. Or the story of D-day before Hollywood had us all believing that the troops flew in on bald eagles, with Schwarzenegger muscles and cigars between their teeth. This is what this book is- a fresh pasture. And right off the bat, Conn Iggulden says to the reader "I know you're nervous about how little you know about these dark times, but I'm going to walk you through it!", which he does spectacularly.

The pace is best described as "romping"- leaving little time for your mind to wonder or be dragged down with over-descriptions. Very aware that the real history was a lot more drawn-out (for example, as mentioned at the end of the book- the re-taking of Maine and Anjou by the French took 5 years, as opposed to mere weeks in the story...), Igguldon doesn't let it drag or become cumbersome to read. It's a superb compromise between "Couldn't have happened like that!" and "Wwwaaayyy too much detail!".

One criticism might be that some of the characters become almost caricatures. Take Tricky Dicky Richard of York, for example. He's described as being so full of malice and wicked intent that it's hard to picture him as anyone other than Lord Farquaad from Shrek (which is ironic, because actually his son Richard III is the spitting image).
                                                                                       
Still, it is compellingly entertaining, with something of a Game of Thrones theme running throughout (admittedly with a few less dragons and sex scenes). And Iggulden certainly knows how to describe a knife-fight, with such precision and detail that you'd swear you were seeing them in slow-motion. Conn should be careful, though: He doesn't over-use slow-mo blood-spurting and battle cries as much as, say, the movie "300" does... But it's a close one...

Lord Farquaad of Shrek

Interestingly, his main character, Derihew "Derry" Brewer, the king's spymaster, is one of the few fictional pieces in this work. Iggulden explains at the end that, from his research, a person (or, let's face it, a few people) like Derry MUST have existed in order to broker the truce with France. In fact, in the book, the ceremonial screwing-over of English tenants in northern France is Derry's brainchild, an act that he defends to the last. Outside of negotiating difficult international treaties, Derry is a sleek, cool medieval Bond character. From going undercover as a peasant in France in order to infiltrate the king's wedding without Tricky Dicky noticing him, to reporting directly (but often tensely) to Queen Margaret ("M"), there's an instant familiarity with his personage, which is amusing even if it's not strictly accurate. Furthermore, making him an expert in espionage was an ingenious move, as you can't help but wonder if he is fictional, or if he merely slipped himself out of the history books, erasing himself from memory...

Despite having the disadvantage of never actually existing, though, Derry manages to interact with the real-life characters seamlessly- from getting up Richard's nose, who takes time out of his busy schedule of high-treason and moustache-twisting to belittle Derry (never taking the initiative to mention that, according to history, he is mere fantasy), to Lord Suffolk, Derry's close friend and confident, who stands in for the king at his own wedding in France, who takes the flack for losing Maine and Anjou, and who ultimately faces exile for not being a "team-player".

And, what Henry VI-based story would be complete without the appearance of Jack Cade? (Who?).  Exactly. Very little is known about the rebellious Kentish leader, but what we do know is that if ever there was a man to bring a sh*t-storm to London, it's our boy Cady. Terrifyingly aggressive and manic after his son's unjust execution, we're led to believe that "enough was enough", and that Cade was the physical embodiment of the anger over the loss of English territories in France, who led a chanting and murderous mob of a few thousand towards London, for a night out in the city that nobody would forget. But Igguldon won't let that lie- he's planted a subtle seed to make us wonder if (somehow) Lord Farquaad Richard had a hand in the uprising in some sneaky, could-only-be-part-of-a-Disney-plot kind of way... Founded fears? Or more vicious historically inaccurate rumours? Perhaps "Trinity" will solve the case...

Score: 8/10