Book Review: When a poet writes queer historical romance…

Solomon's Crown, by Natasha Siegel (Dell)

When a poet writes queer historical romance…

The relationship between Richard I (“Lionheart”) of England and Philip II (“Dieudonné”) of France has been the subject of much debate, particularly whether it was of a romantic and sexual nature, as a number of medieval and modern scholars attest, or an intense friendship at a time when sharing a bed was a common expression of trust. Historically, the relationship turned bitter and ended only with Richard’s death in 1199.

Historical fiction, especially romantic historical fantasy, takes such questions as these as a starting place. It goes beyond the dry facts and dates to the juicy question of, “What If?’ What if Richard (then Duke of Aquitaine), larger-than-life action hero, and introverted, cautious Philip fell in love the first time they met? Richard was not then heir to the throne and had a contentious relationship with his father, Henry II. Philip, newly ascended, had to contend with repairing the damage to France caused by the weakness of his late father. But what if they each found solace, completion, and joy in one another?

In the hands (or rather, the pen) of a brilliant poet, the answer is a heartbreakingly beautiful story whose words sing on every page. The author relates how she used history as a starting point and then followed where the story lead her. This is the “romantic fantasy” aspect of Solomon’s Crown. This love story shaped Western Europe perhaps never happened but should have. It is not altogether accurate regarding the social attitudes of 12^th Century C.E. England and France. I agree with most of Siegel’s choices and with her commitment to make the story emotionally true.

My favorite character was neither Richard nor Philip, but Philip’s wife, Isabella of Hainaut. In Siegel’s version, by the time Philip was forced into marriage, he had had enough lustful encounters with Richard to have figured out his sexuality, to the point of severe doubts he can perform on his wedding night. She’s very young (only eleven years old) and terrified of pregnancy (the desired result of said wedding night) and its high mortality rate. When she summons the courage to beg Philip to postpone intercourse, he’s relieved. But he’s a kind person, so when she lies beside him, unable to sleep, he soothes her by reciting her favorite poem (in Latin). The next day, she memorizes the following part to recite to him. With such a beginning, they become friends. She turns out to be a perceptive, resourceful person who has no issues with Philip’s relationship with Richard, not just the sex but the love. Like Richard’s mother, the redoubtable Eleanor of Aquitaine, Isabella matures into a force in her own right. While Philip and Richard wrestle with inner demons and family power struggles, Isabella’s character growth and essential decency stand out.

 I loved every page of this book, even though I knew the romance would eventually fizzle and Richard would die. Those sad events remain in the future, and perhaps in Siegel’s world, the lovers will remain joyously devoted and grow old together.