VIII by H. M. Castor (review)

Adhering closely to historical fact, Castor explores the life of Henry VIII, imaginatively supplying the personal demons and political exigencies that transformed the historical figure from neglected second son to arrogant, relentless despot. She begins her tale with Henry as a young child, accidentally privy to his indulgent mother's anxieties concerning the death of her two brothers and prophecies that suggest that another claimant threatens her husband's throne. Interpreting the prophecies to apply to himself, Henry suffers his father's disdain and bides his time until he can step into the regal role he believes God has ordained. He views each milestone of his life as a step closer to one of two monomaniacal goals—an empire and heir—and each setback can only be interpreted as a personal trial or, more insidiously, the work of Satan; "I am God's chosen. That is the basic fact—irreducible—from which all thinking must begin. So, it follows that the thing that displeases God cannot be me." Castor excels at pacing, and the seeming chronological imbalance of the novel (the first half takes us only to his early monarchy) is actually a master stroke of plotting, allowing the maelstrom of marriages and perceived treacheries to accelerate as Henry, plagued by visions, infection fevers, and counterproductive medications, loses his grip on reality. Readers accompany Henry to—and through—his death and the last-second revelation of the prophecies' true meaning. That Castor can bring this fictionalized life to a soul-shaking moment of tragic justice without succumbing to cheesy melodrama is remarkable indeed. This is a must-read for fans of all things Tudor.