The seventeenth century isn’t my usual literary stomping ground but two things attracted me to Lucy Jago’s first novel: the theme of female friendship and a glowing puff from Andrew Miller whose own historical fiction I love. Beginning in 1609, A Net for Small Fishes explores the intimate bond between Frances Howard, the daughter of one of the kingdom’s most powerful families, and Anne Turner, an ambitious doctor’s wife, against a background of court intrigue.
As another of my faults is not to know my place as well as I should, I stepped forward.
Anne is called to dress the Countess of Suffolk’s distraught daughter who is married to the Earl of Essex. Anne has a reputation for style and Frances’ mother is determined that her daughter will seduce the Earl whose impotence and brutality have driven Frances to distraction. Theirs is a marriage designed to consolidate the power of the Howard family, known for its extravagance in stark contrast to the Earl’s austerity. Moved by Frances’ plight, Anne spots an opportunity to gain entrance to the court despite the counsel of her husband, wary of its reputation for intrigue. As their friendship deepens, Anne becomes increasingly concerned for this young woman, fourteen years her junior, who is clearly falling in love with the king’s favourite and he with her. When her husband dies, Anne is cast out of her comfortable home, impoverished yet still devoted to Frances who is intent on marrying the man with whom she’s besotted, incriminating both herself and Anne in her efforts to overcome those who oppose her. Meanwhile, courtiers are watching, the balance of power shifts and advantages are sought. Almost seven years after Anne entered the bedchamber of her dearest friend, she’s on trial for her part in death of the man who stood between Frances and happiness.
A perfumed creature of the King adored by a woman whose strength and purpose exceeded his own
Narrated through Anne’s voice, Jago’s atmospheric novel vividly evokes the Jacobean seventeenth century in all its stinking sumptuousness. Plots, intrigue and conspiracies abound in a court ruled by a man who seems more interested in his silkworms and his current favourite’s beauty than this country which is not his home. Central to the novel is the friendship between two strong, intelligent women, each from very different strata of society but both hampered by their lack of independence. Without a man to support her, Anne is bereft of status, dangerously close to pauperism despite her connections, her sharp intelligence and her savvy political grasp. Frances’s beauty is a useful tool in the armoury of a family whose determination to strengthen its power base comes at a great cost to her. As Jago makes clear in her author’s note, both women were subjected to vile, misogynistic portrayals and it was this that made her want to rescue them from notoriety while not exonerating them from their part in what became known as the Overbury Plot. I couldn’t help thinking of a certain American president when reading about Jacobean powerplays and intrigue, presided over by a capricious head of state. What a relief that’s over.
Bloomsbury: London 9781526616623 352 pages Hardback
There seems to be a demand for escaping into historical romps in courts of kings or houses of nobility, where people get laced in tight to show off their physical assets, and play strategic courtship games.
I don’t mind it when someone like Anne Marie Grosholtz (of ‘Little’ fame) enters this realm, seeing in from the outside temporarily, but just I wouldn’t give that self-promoted King of Himself any airtime, I’m reluctant to spend time reading about how women are used in these powerplays.
I know what you mean about escapist romanticisation of the past, Claire, but Jago resists that. The focus is firmly on the friendship between these two women and the roles forced upon them by the society into which they were born.
That sounds better.
Heard the author talking about her book online last night and it sounds just my cup of tea albeit quite similar to The Poison Bed by Elizabeth Fremantle which I loved.
I think it would be right up your street, Cathy. Is The Poison Bed also about the Overbury plot?
“stinking sumptuousness” – I love that!
Thank you!
I like the sound of the friendship angle, but the historical backdrop and court intruige make it sound compelling too.
The period detail is very evocative and there’s a pleasingly strong feminist theme running the portrayal of Anne and Frances’ friendship.
This is a very different kind of book for you – so glad it was an enjoyable experience. I didn’t realise until I got to the end of your review that these are not fictional characters.
That made it all the more interesting for me. I hadn’t come across the Overbury Plot before. I’ll probably retreat back into to my comfort zone again for a while!
I especially like historical fiction that tells women’s stories – we’ve heard plenty about the men!
Amen to that!
If this had been published in the 1980s, there would have been a cutout on that peeking woman (and maybe a little gold embossing)!
Oh, it’s much better than those gold-embossed historical doorstoppers I remember so well from bookselling days!