Five minutes ago I put down this novel – one I have been consumed with over the last three days.
It’s the tragic story of five sisters and King Louis of France – and it is so very sad and awful (and Boleyn-ish).
If you check my book list – you will see a pattern in my reading tastes showing books of this or similar time periods. I can’t get enough of them – I find them fascinating and refreshing and immensely humbling.
It amazes me, as I read the words, how literally every family has a touch of tragedy – real tragedy – in it. I’m not talking about your sibling being loved more, or not being treated equally, or peers being bullies (while I agree these are all still issues) – I am talking about untimely deaths of parents and children, true poverty and illness, children sold into slavery and prostitution, cruelty beyond comprehension…
It’s humbling. While I am aware this novel is fiction, loosely based on historical accounts, if you take the time to research a bit you will see how prevalent true, raw suffering was.
It reminds me how very lucky I am to be who I am, where I am, in the time I was born in. It also makes me acutely aware that not all in this world are as lucky as I am – and that it’s time to make some changes.