Nutgraf

Well, that’s several hours I won’t get back.

I’d been really enjoying Phillipa Gregory’s series of books about the women of Henry VIII’s court. Yeah, I’ll admit it. While I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of being associated with the bosom-intensive covers on the train in the morning, downloading the books to my phone were a great solution to this petty and childish concern. They’re almost guilty pleasures, but have a little too much history in them to be totally brain candy. So, the other week when I was browsing the offerings at Daedalus books (a truly superior discount bookstore), I was tickled to find a book that looked kind of similar.

• Henry VIII? Check.
• Bosomy cover? You betcha.
• Promises of intrigue on the back? It’s in there.

Gave it a try, and this one was different. It was preachy and didn’t have the right flow. It was more about a guy (named More, actually) who was sanctimonious and good and smart, but got hisself in a heap of trouble with the petulant, egotistical, hedonistic king that I’ve come to know through Gregory’s work. But trouble just made him more beatific and intent on suffering for his beliefs. This is a guy who wears a hair shirt. And the book kind of him. And the trick is that while it’s not hard to admire someone who is noble, it is more difficult when this person isn’t conflicted at all. But that may be more of a treatise on human nature than anyone cares for.

Also, the book is billed as “The Story of the Daughter of Sir Thomas More,” and it’s kind of not that at all.

So, the upshot: A decent book about a man who was probably quite remarkable. But somehow I wasn’t put out when bad things happened to him. Possibly because he didn’t seem to mind. But I found it wearing.

Did you read it? Are you glad you didn’t? Got something to recommend? Hit me in the comments, or join us over at BookGraf on Facebook.

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