Books, Fiction

Anna of Kleve by Alison Weir

Reading Anna of Kleve by Alison Weir in Ames, Iowa. | Dress | Necklace | Watch
Anna of Kleve; The Princess in the Portrait by Alison Weir

Worth A Read Eh
Length 496
Quick Review Anna of Kleve was the fourth wife of Henry VIII, faring better than any who came before or after, but was she hiding a secret love child?

I have a hard time reading historical fiction because I have a LOVE of history. To the point of obsession. I don’t love historical fiction because authors change and add and revise history like it’s their job, – it is – but the problem for me lies in the fact history is ridiculous enough, it doesn’t need changing. I understand making up conversations and filling in the gaps of history, but come on. I like Aliso Weir because she’s an actual historian with numerous historical nonfiction books and biographies published, focusing on the Tudors and other royal figures. She writes popular history, which is more accessible than academic writing for those who enjoy history and don’t want to be bogged down in academese. Her historical fiction is far more factual than most out there. She just knows her shit better. 

Within the first few pages of Anna of Kleve, there is a sex scene. For me, it’s not a selling point, but the other 490 pages pretty much steered clear of the graphic sex scenes. Although, I think a lot of people read historical fiction just for the naughty bits. 

Anna of Kleve was the fourth wife of King Henry VIII. She was never crowned, but she became a trusted friend of the king and loved by his children. Where his other wives found tragedy, Anna found a friend. Henry fell in love with her portrait, but he was disappointed by the reality he met. Henry famously told Oliver Cromwell, “I liked her before not well, but now I like her much less, for I have felt her belly and her breasts and as I can judge, she should be no maid.” the night after their wedding when he couldn’t or didn’t consummate their marriage. What does this mean? Alison Weir explores the possibility: Anna of Kleve was no virgin, but had a love child before their marriage. 

Weir paints a convincing picture in her latest historical fiction novel Anne of Kleve, but is it convincing enough to change the way history views the fourth wife of Henry VIII? I found it interesting and compelling, but not revolutionary. As a student of history, it’s founded on a rumor that is not new. It circulated during Anna’s own time. 

It’s a decent book. It took me a while to get through it. I highly suggest Anne of Kleve for lovers of historical fiction. For me, not my favorite. 

Memorable Quotes
“Men did commonly blame the wife if anything went wrong…”
“…he had such a deep-rooted  elied in his own righteousness that it would never occur to him that he might have wrecked her life.”

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna

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Title: Anna of Kleve; The Princess in the Portrait
Author: Alison Weir
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Copyright: 2019
ISBN: 9781101966570

Books, Fiction

The Dollhouse by Fiona Davis

Worth A Read Meh
Length 289
Quick Review The Barbizon is now condos but used to house hundreds of girls looking to make it in NYC. What happens when the lives of a long-time resident and new resident collide?

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Reading The Dollhouse by Fiona Davis at Glassell. | Dress | Watch | Earrings 

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The Dollhouse by Fiona Davis

The Barbizon really did exist as a women’s only residence in New York City. In 2005, the building was converted into condominiums. Fiona Davis creates a world where the two identities of the Barbizon meet in her novel The Dollhouse. A mystery with a touch of love and a lot of independent women searching for belonging. 

Rose, a journalist, lives in the Barbizon with her boyfriend in 2016. Her boyfriend decides to go back to his ex-wife, Rose is left with a lot of time on her hands and a curiosity about the women who have been in her building for decades. Darby, an elderly tenant, never leaves her apartment without a veil, and the mystery piques Roses interest. Models, night clubs, drug raids, friendship, and more. Rose is on a journalist’s hunt with a personal investment. 

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Reading The Dollhouse by Fiona Davis. | Dress | Watch | Earrings

Davis crafts the plot of The Dollhouse well. The chapters alternate between following Rose in 2016 and Darby in 1952. There is restraint in the story telling and tries to add some good twists, but I found the plot fairly predictable. 

 Overall The Dollhouse maintains a nice pace throughout the story and avoids clichés until the last five pages when she throws a good book in the toilet. I actually did not mind this one at all, but the last bit just ruined it for me. Davis does a good job maintaining a consistent and interesting pace, but the ending comes quickly and suddenly. It’s as if her editor asked her to wrap everything up with a nice bow and throw the love story completely out of proportion with the rest of the story. It was saccharine and a little vomit inducing how spoonfed it was. What was an interesting story about finding oneself and relationships between women ended up being a deflated mess of an ooey-gooey love story. 

If I could erase the last five pages, I would like The Dollhouse much better. I’m trying not to let the ending overpower the other nice 200 or so pages, but I can’t. 

Memorable Quotes
“His eyes, which were the color of seawater, had a laserlike intensity that made politics the obvious career choice. That or terrorist interrogator.”
“Not scared of change, like Darby was, but scared of staying put, staying unchanged.”

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Title: The Dollhouse
Author: Fiona Davis
Publisher: Dutton
Copyright: 2016
ISBN: 9781101984994

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The Dollhouse | Dress | Earrings | Watch

In My Own Words, Lifestyle

Homecoming

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Welcoming Alex home with my sign. | Dress | Shoes | Watch | Sunglasses | Earrings |

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Happy hugs in front of his helicopter du jour. | Dress |

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Marines lining up ready to see their families.

No, I’m not in high school or college. I did celebrate Homecoming a week ago. By this point in your life, you’ve probably seen a movie or a YouTube video showing a military person (probably man because patriarchy) come home from deployment or war – technically deployment just less cushy and more PTSD inducing. There are lots of flags, running, hugs, kisses, and happy tears. It’s all very realistic. 

This deployment was never actually supposed to happen because he was supposed to get out of the military last October. Oh the military. You never know what’s going to happen until it’s already happened. Alex extended another year to go on this one. His two previous were to Japan and a bit of time on a boat floating around Asian countries. This one took him on a boat around the Mediterranean and an unplanned adventure in the Iranian neighborhood. With Flaming Hot Cheeto in office, it’s not exactly a time you want your loved one deployed in a less than friendly neighborhood. Six years. Three deployments. This was my first homecoming. Due to poverty, scheduling, and a lack of communication on not my part, I’d never been able to welcome Alex home with a cliché sign and a hug. 

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Yes that is a dinosaur behind us. | Dress | Shoes | Earrings | Watch |

Alex came home from his last deployment a week ago. I was waiting with a very me sign and a very big hug. It was not his longest deployment [upon Alex reading this: it was the longest. I guess I missed him less this time or I’m used to him being gone or it didn’t seem as long because we were able to talk more than any of the other deployments], but it was the most stressful, for me. Although, they are all stressful if I’m being honest. 

As in everything military related, there is a lot of hurry up and wait, which is the military’s unofficial motto, by the way; I should figure out what that is in Latin. Hurry up and wait all the way up until you hold them. 

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Alex’s helicopter as we wait and wait and wait to actually see them.

Homecoming is an emotional thing for families. I can’t explain to you what having someone deployed is like except it feels like your heart is torn in two, and one piece is somewhere in the world. You wait on phone calls and emails. You wait and wait and wait. Then the day comes when they come home. Make a sign (please make it original, I will judge you). Dress up. Pop a mint in your mouth because it has been seven months. Huddle with hundreds of other people in a hanger in 97 degree weather waiting to watch the helicopters come over the horizon. The room vibrates with anticipation and love and anxiety. The Marines corralling the families dictate where the boundaries are and say, “If you step over this line, you could die.” Terrifying to children and some adults, while also being completely overdramatic. You wait and laugh and chat and don’t step over the line. The glint on the horizon… just a bug. A glint on the horizon… a helicopter. Just kidding, not the helicopter. Is there time for a bathroom break? If you run fast. Don’t run! Wait. Jostle. A roar goes up. Helicopters are on the horizon. People scream and cry and wait. The helicopters fly over in a V formation. Look for the one your Marine is on. They land. You can see your Marine. Wait. They gather on the flightline and “march” towards us with as little panache as very tired Marines can muster. The loud speaker says an unknowable something. People rush forward over the line separating alive and possible death. No one dies. Some find each other immediately; others take awhile. After hugs and kisses and I missed yous and I love yous, Marines play a rousing game of where the fuck is my stuff? Because it is all piled into neat lines, but it’s government issued, so it all looks the same. Stuff is located. Buy a tshirt. Everyone carries something making your way to the car. Wait some more in the parking garage. Freedom. They’re home. 

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Three minutes in and I’m already goofing off. | Dress | Shoes | Earrings | Watch | Sunglasses |

I want this to be more emotionally charged than it is. But it’s not going to be. I can’t get sad or weepy or nitty-gritty honest about homecoming or this deployment because I’m not in that headspace. I don’t foresee myself being in that headspace in the near future. If you want something real and emotionally charged click here and read my post about military movies and my lack of composure watching them. 

I’m happy Alex is home. I’m happy he’s not dead. The likelihood he would die on the deployment was low, but you never really breathe easily when they’re away. I can breathe easily again. I’m sleeping better, which is to say as shitty as usual when Alex isn’t deployed. Deployments are hard. They suck. It’s emotional to have them deploy and emotional to have them come home. The interim is equally emotional. I think I’m tapped out on emotion right now, so this post is lackluster. I told Alex I had nothing interesting to write because he was lackluster, which is obviously not the case. No one spends six years loving a person in the military at a distance through deployments, deaths and illnesses, graduations and birthdays, anniversaries and holidays, normal days and hard days, when the one person you want by your side can’t be there. 

This is not a life I would have chosen, but I did choose to love him. I loved him before the military. I loved him through the military. I will love him after the military.

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Happy to have him home!!!