“Just be happy when you can. And when you can’t, make your anger count.”
At first glance, Jillian Laine’s “Henry Tudor Must Die” does not seem like historical fiction. With contemporary dialogue, a healthy dose of diversity and women at the forefront, Laine’s novel appears to be set anywhere but Tudor-era England. Despite this, HTMD is a reimagining of the six wives of Henry VIII told from the women’s perspectives with a sprinkle of magic on top. Aided by the Hellebore Sisterhood, a fictional secret society, the queens hatch a plan to exact revenge on Henry in a fashion that wasn’t possible in true history.
Though the book might not be perfectly historically accurate — something Laine jokes should be apparent from the hot pink text on the cover — it is a delight to read. I caught myself laughing out loud at various points throughout the novel and thoroughly enjoyed the witty banter between the characters despite — or maybe thanks to — the fact that it wasn’t written in Old English.
The rich character building and relationship development add to the quality of the story. Each queen — save for Jane Seymour, who dies early on — is given their time to shine as a fully developed character. We watch five unique women develop over the course of the book and bond over their common enemy, finding friendship and sisterhood amid all the terrible tragedies in their lives. Oftentimes, women are pitted against each other, both in fiction and in historical narratives like that of Henry’s six wives. It was refreshing to see them come together instead, which felt inspiring to me as a woman reading the novel.
My only complaint with regard to the main characters is that we didn’t get to see more of them interacting. The novel has a lot of time jumps to account for the historical timeline and the characters traveling across the country. This led to long periods of time where characters were bonding off the page, which left me, as a reader, wanting just a few more meaningful moments between the queens.
The book is in limited third person, switching perspectives between queens every other chapter. Marguerite, the leader of the Hellebore Sisterhood, serves as the narrator of the novel, and every few pages, she interrupts the story with a footnote either explaining a historical tidbit or making a snarky joke. As amusing as these footnotes were, the idea of having a side character serve as a narrator was distracting at certain points. I didn’t understand how Marguerite could have such an intimate knowledge of the inner thoughts of each character and everything that transpired, especially when she hadn’t witnessed the events firsthand.
Ignoring these variables, HTMD ultimately succeeds as a historical fiction novel because of its political criticism. Beneath the magic and comedy lie sobering questions about our current governmental systems, the people in power and what they’re able to get away with. In the book, like in the 1500s, Henry consistently gets away with the very same crimes for which he sentences his wives to beheadings. These double standards are painfully apparent in the book, and they force us to look outward at the embarrassing ways they show up in the present.
Near the end of the novel, Marguerite and former Queen Anne Boleyn discuss their hopes for a future where women don’t have to beg for basic human rights. While we’ve come a long way from Tudor-era England, it’s funny (in a depressing sort of way) that we could have anything in common with their women at all. Thanks to these small moments, HTMD succeeds as a satire along with fantasy and historical fiction and does well in all three genres.
Marguerite’s last words in the novel are: “One day, women will rule the world.” I hope I continue to see other authors embrace this unapologetic feminist energy the way Jillian Laine has with her debut.
Daily Arts Writer Amany Sayed can be reached at amanysay@umich.edu.
