The Irish Princess

  Q. It’s interesting that both Gera Fitzgerald, in The Irish Princess, and Katherine Ashley, the focus of your novel The Queen’s Governess, married late in life and ultimately had no children. How common was that among women who spent time at the Tudor royal court? How do you think their childlessness shaped their lives?

  A. It was rather rare that married women, let alone those at the Tudor court, were childless in this era, although there are plenty of examples of women, like Gera, whose children did not live to adulthood. Actually, I think that having and losing one’s babies (Catherine of Aragon is a prime example) was even more tragic than being childless. In Kat Ashley’s case, I think her childlessness was sad because she was such an excellent caretaker of children. However, if she’d had her own, perhaps she would not have poured as much love into the young Bess Tudor. In Gera’s case, her lifelong care for her disabled sister Margaret, as well as for her younger stepchildren, probably helped fill that void in her life.

  Q. How much about Gera is documented in the historical record and how much did you embellish? And can you tell us more about The Red Book of Kildare?

  A. The first part of this question is huge. I am writing faction; that is, I take the facts I can find and fictionalize only the parts of the plot I cannot research. Naturally, this means conversations and some sections of the story are made up, but I try to stay with what logically could have happened from the research. In this novel, the part I could find the least about, and therefore fictionalized, is Gera’s escape from Maynooth Castle. It is unclear where she was between when her mother left for England and when Gera joined her at Beaumanoir. Maybe Gera went with her mother when she initially left for England, but I could not have Gera miss the great initial adventure of her life during the castle siege. However, once her life began to intertwine with the Tudor princesses’, and when she married the quite well-documented Edward Clinton, she became much easier to track.

  The Red Book of Kildare is still extant and is housed in the British Museum. Therefore, I must admit that the English finally got their hands on it, though I am not sure when or how. Its most recent translation from Latin, as far as I know, was edited and explained by Mac Niocaill in the 1964 publication The Red Book of the Earls of Kildare. Originally, it was compiled by the scholar Philip Flatsbury for Gera’s father. Records in it begin from around 1503 and include maps, lists of important people, title deeds, and the wealth of the Kildares: pewter plates, silver saltcellars, etc. It was also a rental book with names of those loyal to the family, which is why the Tudors wanted it. I do not know that Gera kept and hid it during her life, but I do know it strangely disappeared around the time of the siege of Maynooth, then reappeared approximately when Gera’s brother Gerald returned to Ireland as earl. The Red Book of Kildare is not to be confused with the legendary lost Book of Kildare from the 1100s in Ireland, which was supposedly dictated by an angel.

  Q. You present Gera Fitzgerald as a passionate, strong-willed woman who was able to express herself even within the strictures of the Tudor court. How unusual was she?

  A. Much of Gera’s character I took from the very telling detail that she was once sent to the Tower for “plain-speaking to the queen.” It reveals so much about her and about the queen that Gera was soon released and back in Elizabeth’s good graces. In my years of studying and writing about Elizabeth Tudor, I find that she was wise and clever enough to listen to and be advised by others. Despite some of the things that could have made Elizabeth angry at or jealous of Gera, the queen must have seen their similarities—including, perhaps, their childlessness. I believe Elizabeth leaned for advice on both Lord High Admiral Clinton and the Irish Fitzgerald.

  Q. Was Edward Clinton really as dashing as you portray him? It’s wonderful to hear that he and Gera had a long, happy marriage, but if he was frequently off on the queen’s business, how much time did they really get to spend together?

  A. Evidently, with Edward and Gera Clinton, absence did make the heart grow fonder. To draw from my own family history, my great-grandfather was a pilot on Great Lakes vessels, was gone much of the year, yet he and my great-grandmother had a good marriage. It is true that Edward Clinton was absent a great deal and Gera was at court with the queen for long periods of time, but they seem to have been a very happy couple. Perhaps the fact that they had both been wed before—in arranged marriages—made their marriage of choice really work. As far as I can tell, their marriage to each other was set up by no one but themselves. And, maybe it’s just me, but as I mentioned before, sea captains—and the Lord High Admiral of the navy, no less—seem very dashing. My own love of the sea and ships is probably reflected in Gera.

  Q. I’ve read other novels about Elizabeth I in which Robert Dudley is presented in a more positive light than you present him here and in your other novels. Do you really believe he was a blackguard who cared more for his own advancement than for Elizabeth? Did she love him more than he loved her?

  A. I used to have a much rosier, more romantic view of Robert Dudley, the queen’s “dear Robin,” than I do now. (The same can be said about my changing view over time of Henry VIII.) I do believe Robert was more in love with the princess and queen than with the woman. But that’s a question she could never answer; nor can I. That is the price one must pay for fame and fortune—just exactly what is the lover in love with? I am, however, continually amazed by the crazed ambition of the Dudleys, as with other Tudor-era families—including the Tudors. I keep coming back to the quote, “Absolute power corrupts absolutely,” which, sadly, seems as true today as in the Tudor era.

  Q. Was Henry VIII’s treatment of the Fitzgeralds typical of his treatment of other powerful families? Was he harsher toward families of his outlying kingdoms, such as Ireland, Scotland, and Wales?

  A. I’ve recently been reading a great deal about Henry VIII’s father, King Henry VII. Under him, the Tudors took the English throne in battle, although they had some royal blood in their veins. The horrors of the War of the Roses were only one generation back from Henry VIII, so the Tudors were paranoid about others threatening their claim to the throne. Henry VIII’s consistent but unspoken policy was to get rid of anyone who challenged his power, usually by charging him or her with treason. This could include his English relatives (such as the Earl of Surrey and his father, Norfolk), leaders of rebellions foreign or domestic, or even just severe critics. He also turned on once-intimate friends such as Sir Thomas More. In short, Henry VIII was an equal-opportunity destroyer.

  Q. You have obviously done a tremendous amount of indepth research on the Tudor period. Can you describe the process you use? How do you keep track of all your sources and make choices when your sources provide contradictory information? And when do you know it’s time to stop researching and start writing the book?

  A. All good questions. I have studied the Tudors and their times for about thirty years and have a good-size library about them. However, each new novel demands additional research, which I keep filed in folders with headings such as—for this book—Ireland, Characters, Culture, Ships, etc. Sources do often disagree: Sometimes I’m forced to take my best guess by relying on surrounding evidence. When I hear the characters start “talking to one another,” I know it’s time to actually begin to write. I always look for a grabber beginning to propel the plot, but I like to deal briefly with my heroine’s early life, because I feel we can usually understand a personality best if we see the family from which that person came. When I was teaching school and had a problem student, I always tried to schedule a parent conference. How often, the moment I met one or both of the parents, I said to myself, Oh, now I get why their child acts that way!

  Q. Was there any fascinating new information you uncovered during your research for this book that never made it into the story?

  A. Fascinating, yes, but no real bombshells. As I mention in the Author’s Note, Gera and Edward had a long marriage and she served the queen far into her reign, so their story does not end where I end it. B
ut this book needed to conclude when Gerald and Gera finally returned to Maynooth and their beloved Irish people. Of course, her hopes for Ireland’s independence from England under her family’s guidance were not realized. I will add one thing about this question that interested me and seemed so modern. When Edward Clinton’s will was read, so much of his property and decision making was passed on to Gera that her stepson, Ursula Dudley’s son, was pretty upset about it.

  Q. Have any comments about your work from reviewers and readers particularly surprised you?

  A. Of course, all authors love good reviews. Just last week I spoke to two readers’ groups at the Toledo Public Library in Toledo, Ohio, who had read Mistress Shakespeare. I was really touched to hear several of the women say that the novel had inspired them to take a look at Shakespeare again—as a person as well as a writer. And, as a former university instructor and high school English teacher of British literature, I’m always thrilled when a reviewer or reader says something like, “I hated history in high school, but your book made it really come alive.” That is always a double payoff for me besides someone just liking the love story or the adventure.

  Q. You also write contemporary suspense for another publisher. What are the challenges and rewards of combining historical and contemporary writing? And how do you remain so incredibly prolific?

  A. The challenges include keeping the two very different narrative voices for modern and historical stories separate. The sentence structure, as well as word choice, of course, is quite unique to each era. That said, all good writing is suspense writing and needs in-depth character development, so there are many similarities. As for being prolific—I love being a storyteller and having my readers learn something while they are entertained and challenged. I try to take my readers into a different world, even in my contemporary books. Drawing a reader into the Elizabethan world is not so very different from drawing him or her into the unique world of the Amish, Appalachia, or the Everglades.

  Q. You also divide the year into time in Ohio and time in Florida. Does that change in setting have an effect on your work?

  A. I can manage to lose myself in writing a book whether there are maple trees or palm trees outside my office window. However, I always write my historical novels in Ohio, because that’s where my Elizabethan-era library is. Still, my husband is continually appalled by the books and stacks of research I take to Florida each year so I can work on a contemporary book. Fortunately, I’m an early riser and can get some writing done before the business or beauty of the day takes time or tempts me to go outside.

  QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

  1. Even in the early scenes of this novel, it is obvious that female children are valued less than male children. How is Gerald treated differently from Gera during the threat to their family? Are there hints that Gera might have made a better leader for the family than her brother? And is this pro-male bent still evident in modern families?

  2. Gera is forced to leave her homeland and live in a country whose king she despises. What do you think keeps her desire for revenge alive for so long?

  3. In some ways, Gera is a typical Irish rebel. Is she just lucky not to get caught in her rebellion, or does she choose her rebellions wisely?

  4. Gera feels a connection to Elizabeth Tudor that goes beyond the similarity in their appearance. What do you think they have in common, and how are they different?

  5. Can you think of a modern-day equivalent to the autocratic power Henry VIII wielded over his subjects, who were vulnerable to made-up charges of treason and summarily executed?

  6. Gera falls in love with and weds Edward Clinton, a man she detests earlier. Does she really hate him for a while, or is she lying to herself? Is it a good idea to marry a man who has family ties, loyalties, or interests that are at odds with yours?

  7. Some of the best novels have a central character who has a strong story arc; that is, the person learns and changes a great deal during the novel. Is Gera’s swing from hater of the Tudors to friend of Mary and Elizabeth believable? Should the sins of the fathers be visited upon their children, or will those children be completely free from the errors and prejudices of their parents and other family members?

  8. If you’ve read other novels set during this period, how does Karen Harper’s portrait of well-known figures differ from the way they’re depicted in other novels, and even plays and movies? For example, compare Robert Dudley, Jane Grey, Mary Tudor, Elizabeth Tudor, Thomas Seymour, and Henry VIII’s many wives.

  9. Discuss Gera’s response to her inability to have children as compared to the attitudes of other childless women in the novel. At a time when a woman’s worth was often based on her ability to produce healthy children, especially males, and when child mortality remained high, discuss what impact childlessness might have had on these women’s lives. How have attitudes changed since then?

  10. In wartime even today, many married couples face long periods of separation. What effect does this have on a relationship, especially if the woman is the one left behind? What do Gera and Edward do—and what can modern couples do—to keep their relationships vital and strong?

  11. Gera was recorded as being sent by Elizabeth Tudor to the Tower for “plain-speaking to the queen,” but she was quickly recalled. As much as both of these women must have hated and dreaded the Tower of London, this says a lot about them. Gera, when she does lie, for example about the location of The Red Book of Kildare, words her answer so “it wasn’t quite a lie.” Are we sometimes Geras in that respect today? Where is the line between always telling the truth and softening it or bending it a bit in relationships with family and friends? Is telling the blatant truth always the best way to go?

  12. It is interesting in historical novels to see a woman who desperately wants to do something she cannot, because of the strictures of that day. For example, Gera would obviously love to command a ship of her own, or to step in to represent and run her family. Women became shopkeepers or printers at this time, for instance, only because they were widowed or orphaned and had to keep the business going after being left it by a male family member. Are there any such barriers left today, now that we have women soldiers, pilots—even sailors on submarines? Are there still no-females-allowed-or-approved careers in our modern world?

  13. Gera has a deep love of Ireland and, later, Lincolnshire and Sempringham. What makes people feel passionately attached to certain locations? Is it just because we were born or reared there? What memories and ties to places (not just where you were raised) emotionally bind you to particular locations? Happy memories? Beautiful scenery? Some deep, inner longing?

  Please read on for an excerpt from Karen Harper’s novel

  THE QUEEN’S GOVERNESS

  Available from G. P. Putnam’s Sons in hardcover and coming from New American Library in paperback in August 2011.

  THE TOWER OF LONDON

  May 19, 1536

  I could not fathom they were going to kill the queen. Nor could I bear to witness Anne Boleyn’s beheading, but I stepped off the barge on the choppy Thames and, with the other observers, entered the Tower through the water gate. I felt sick to my stomach and my very soul.

  The spring sun and soft river breeze deserted us as we entered the Tower. All seemed dark and airless within the tall stone walls. We were shown our place at the back of the small elite crowd. Thank the Lord, I did not have to stand close to the wooden scaffold that had been built for this dread deed. I had vowed to myself I would keep my eyes shut, and, standing back here, no one would know. Yet I stared straight ahead, taking it all in.

  For, despite my distance of some twenty feet from it, the straw-strewn scaffold with its wooden stairs going up seemed to loom above me. How would Anne, brazen and foolish but innocent Anne, stripped now of her title, her power, her daughter and husband, manage to get herself through this horror? She had always professed to be a woman of strong faith, so perhaps that would sustain her.

  I yearned to bolt from the premises.
I nearly lost my hard-won control. Tears blurred my vision, but I blinked them back.

  The crowd hushed as the former queen came out into the sun, led by the Tower constable Sir William Kingston, with four ladies following. At least she had company at the end. Anne’s almoner was with her; they both held prayer books. Her eyes looked up and straight ahead; her lips moved in silent prayer. I thought I read the words on them: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death . . .”