Henry VIII

In novels, movies, television, too, you’ve been all the fashion,
Because yours is a story of such tragic passion.
The Boleyn girl book has become a cottage industry,
All because of your rampant celebrity.
A sorry pawn of an ambitious father,
Or a scheming hussy full of bother?
Which is the truth, despite all the tales,
Did you deserve to go down on Justice’s scales?
A pretty face, a slender neck,
All the better for Henry to bedeck,
You with glittering jewels and such trumperies,
While his pious wife went down on her knees,
And prayed for a means to ensure Henry’s love,
Cast off as surely as any old glove.
 
 
You played upon the king’s mania for an heir,
But the birth of a daughter led to despair.
No matter that she would later steal the scene,
By becoming England’s greatest queen.
This triumph was one that you’d not live to see,
For Henry’d grown tired of your company.
No matter your protests and cries,
That charges of adultery were all lies.
The time for untruths to be told,
Sent two men to the scaffold.
Lovely queen to grace a monarch’s bed,
Your fame would come only when you were dead.
But like all romantic fashions, yours will end,
And some other woman will bow and bend.
I wonder what tragic figure she will be—
Someone sad, like Cassandra or Antigone?

Historical Footnote: CATNYP has 96 books on Anne Boleyn, of which 24 are works of fiction (many of them recent publications). You can find these titles under the subject heading: Anne Boleyn, Queen, consort of Henry VIII, Kind of England, 1507-1536

My colleague Serena Jimenez often has a nose for a fashion trend. She alerted me to the runaway success of Showtime’s series The Tudors. I’m a pretty poor television viewer, whose idea of great tv is MSNBC’s Lockup series and HBO’s Deadwood (love those expletives). Therefore, I was initially skeptical of a production that featured a hard-bodied, smoldering Henry VIII, and took various other liberties with historical fact. But, over time, listening to her consistently eager reports, I found myself intrigued.

When my husband recently joined Netflix, I had him order the first disc for Season 1. Halfway through the first episode—I was hooked! I have two points to make about this television series. First, the series creators went right after the fact that Henry was a confirmed dandy and fashion leader; diplomats from other European royal courts were ordered to report back regularly on his changes of clothes. Henry’s costumes in the show are staggering, and as the episodes progress, I find myself eagerly waiting for what outfit he’ll appear in next. Second, I love the fact that this is a series in which the male lead is the unabashed attraction and outright sex symbol—along with a spectacular, historically-accurate wardrobe. Jonathan Rhys Meyers is a sheer delight and makes wonderful eye candy. There! I’ve said it. The real Henry VIII got corpulent fairly young, but this Henry is all a susceptible viewer could desire. Turnaround time!

So hurrah for Showtime, and the Irish production company that brings us such a breath of fresh air! If this series gets young people, and others usually bored by history, interested in Tudor doings, it’s all to the good. After all, Henry’s mania for a son and heir had a profound effect on the future. The rise of Protestantism in England, and later in America, would never have happened without this monarch’s “palpable” need.