Today marks the 410th anniversary of the 'Gowrie House affair', when John Ruthven, Earl of Gowrie, and his brother Sandy were killed in mysterious circumstances in the presence of James VI, King of Scots, soon to be James I of England. Depending on which sources you read, the events of the day were either a botched plot by the Ruthvens to assassinate or kidnap the king, or else a successful plot by the king to eliminate the Ruthvens. The mystery was heightened by rumours of witchcraft, royal adultery and homosexual lust; not surprisingly, it attracted the interest of Shakespeare, who used it as one of the inspirations for the plot of Macbeth. In its day, the 'Gowrie Conspiracy' was as famous as the nearly contemporary 'Gunpowder Plot'. 5 August was a national holiday in Scotland from 1601 and in England from 1603. Although the commemoration died out before the end of the 17th century, the 'Gowrie day' service remained part of the liturgy of the Church of England until 1859.
The events of 5 August 1600 form the basis of my next book, Blood of Kings, which will be published by Ian Allan on 1 December and which argues that the 'Gowrie House affair' was actually far more important to the course of British history than the 'Gunpowder plot'. It'll be interesting to see what sort of reaction greets my interpretation of the events; there are still many people who take sides over this issue, especially those who believe passionately that King James was nothing but the callous murderer of two innocent young men.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Slaves to the Untruth
It's been too long since my last post, mainly due to a combination of the ongoing work on the third Quinton novel and a fantastic holiday on the Nile. I thought I'd return to the blogosphere by talking about the temples at Abu Simbel or sailing aboard a felucca on the Nile at Aswan, or else by analysing my recent reading. Hopefully I'll get round to doing all of that in the near future, when I hope to update this blog more regularly. First, though, a bit of a rant...
I listen to BBC Radio Five Live quite a lot. I like its regular news and sport updates, plus some of its programming; but I detest its morning diet of mind-numbing phone-ins and above all its army of smug, patronising, metrocentric presenters. I thought the final nail in the station's coffin was the departure of the erudite Simon Mayo (on four days a week, at any rate), but not so. Just before midday on Sunday, a group of studio guests were discussing Cameron's visit to the USA and one remarked casually that Gordon Brown had given Obama a present of a pen-holder made from the timber of a slave ship. Cue much laughter from her fellow right-ons, one of whom then repeated the comment. Presumably the fact that this 'statement' was broadcast on national radio now means that there are several thousand more people who believe it than there were before this show went out. I've also seen this statement made in a few blogs, the authors of whom are presumably morons and/or have political agendas, so presumably the lazy Five Live contributors picked it up from such sources and couldn't be bothered to check in more detail in such obscure, inaccessible sources as Wikipedia. Countless other blogs - including ironically many that are anti-Obama - get the story right, so just for the record - the pen-holder was made from the timber of HMS Gannet, which was a late-Victorian gunboat involved in a number of anti-slavery patrols. So far from proving that Gordon Brown was a tactless idiot, the presentation of the pen-holder actually puts the former PM in a good light, and a far better light than the president, who reciprocated with a cheap box set of DVDs.
So to correct my earlier statement, I used to listen to Five Live quite a lot; I think I might have reached that seminal turning point in life called the 'Radio Four moment'. Because let's face it, there's only one word for the statement about the 'slave ship', as broadcast on what used to be a cherished and dependable national institution: and that word is 'lie'.
I listen to BBC Radio Five Live quite a lot. I like its regular news and sport updates, plus some of its programming; but I detest its morning diet of mind-numbing phone-ins and above all its army of smug, patronising, metrocentric presenters. I thought the final nail in the station's coffin was the departure of the erudite Simon Mayo (on four days a week, at any rate), but not so. Just before midday on Sunday, a group of studio guests were discussing Cameron's visit to the USA and one remarked casually that Gordon Brown had given Obama a present of a pen-holder made from the timber of a slave ship. Cue much laughter from her fellow right-ons, one of whom then repeated the comment. Presumably the fact that this 'statement' was broadcast on national radio now means that there are several thousand more people who believe it than there were before this show went out. I've also seen this statement made in a few blogs, the authors of whom are presumably morons and/or have political agendas, so presumably the lazy Five Live contributors picked it up from such sources and couldn't be bothered to check in more detail in such obscure, inaccessible sources as Wikipedia. Countless other blogs - including ironically many that are anti-Obama - get the story right, so just for the record - the pen-holder was made from the timber of HMS Gannet, which was a late-Victorian gunboat involved in a number of anti-slavery patrols. So far from proving that Gordon Brown was a tactless idiot, the presentation of the pen-holder actually puts the former PM in a good light, and a far better light than the president, who reciprocated with a cheap box set of DVDs.
So to correct my earlier statement, I used to listen to Five Live quite a lot; I think I might have reached that seminal turning point in life called the 'Radio Four moment'. Because let's face it, there's only one word for the statement about the 'slave ship', as broadcast on what used to be a cherished and dependable national institution: and that word is 'lie'.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Still Viewing!
After much reflection and comments from readers of this blog, I've decided to keep 'View From The Lair' going in tandem with my new blog on the Ian Allan website. This will actually allow a much more sensible division of focus, with purely naval and maritime history posts going on the Ian Allan blog while this one concentrates on my writing and reading of fiction, plus miscellaneous historical and other issues.
I'm still hard at work on the third Quinton novel, The Blast That Tears The Skies, and have been writing the chapters dealing with the battle of Lowestoft on 3 June 1665, one of the largest and most vicious battles in naval history. What with having the Great Plague as the backdrop for the land-based scenes, I think it's true to say that this will be the most 'X-rated' of the Quinton novels, and certainly won't be for the faint-hearted! For light relief, I've been reading The Coronation, Boris Akunin's latest Fandorin novel. Akunin has sold millions of copies in Russia, and it's easy to see why - he combines delightful pastiches of some of the great Russian authors with a profound respect and nostalgia for the Tsarist period. However, Akunin also appeals successfully to western audiences by fully adopting the methodology of the thriller genre, while his hero, the enigmatic Erast Fandorin, is something of a cross between Sherlock Holmes and James Bond. Like both of those fictional icons, Fandorin can be rather too self-righteous and indestructible at times, but the beautifully observed descriptions of late nineteenth century Moscow redeem the books and raise them well above huge swathes of current historical fiction.
I'm still hard at work on the third Quinton novel, The Blast That Tears The Skies, and have been writing the chapters dealing with the battle of Lowestoft on 3 June 1665, one of the largest and most vicious battles in naval history. What with having the Great Plague as the backdrop for the land-based scenes, I think it's true to say that this will be the most 'X-rated' of the Quinton novels, and certainly won't be for the faint-hearted! For light relief, I've been reading The Coronation, Boris Akunin's latest Fandorin novel. Akunin has sold millions of copies in Russia, and it's easy to see why - he combines delightful pastiches of some of the great Russian authors with a profound respect and nostalgia for the Tsarist period. However, Akunin also appeals successfully to western audiences by fully adopting the methodology of the thriller genre, while his hero, the enigmatic Erast Fandorin, is something of a cross between Sherlock Holmes and James Bond. Like both of those fictional icons, Fandorin can be rather too self-righteous and indestructible at times, but the beautifully observed descriptions of late nineteenth century Moscow redeem the books and raise them well above huge swathes of current historical fiction.
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