The Daughter Of Time: A gripping historical mystery

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But the quest to discover Richard’s skeleton, and perhaps redeem his reputation, has earlier and equally unlikely roots. Though writers and historians have been arguing since the seventeenth century that Richard III wasn’t the villain whom Shakespeare described, it was a 1951 mystery novel that sparked mass interest in Richard’s redemption. The writer went by the name Josephine Tey, and the novel was called “The Daughter of Time.” While caring for her father she began her career as a writer. [5] Her first published work was in The Westminster Gazette in 1925, under the name Gordon Daviot. She continued publishing verse and short stories in The Westminster Review, The Glasgow Herald and the Literary Review.

And although I certainly now no longer have the massive literary and historical crush on (to and for me sadly misunderstood and unjustly maligned) Richard III that I had in 1984 (when I was a lonely teenager and read The Daughter of Time for a high school English literature project) I still and nevertheless firmly believe and continue to agree with Josephine Tey and her literary creation Alan Grant that Henry VII actually had considerably more and obvious reasons for wanting the two princes in the tower removed, for needing them to be gone forever than Richard III did (as they in my opinion were much more of a potential obstacle and threat to the former’s path to the English throne than to the latter). For Edward, Richard and their sister Elizabeth had indeed been declared illegitimate by an act of parliament (and whether wrongfully or rightfully does not really all that much matter here). However, after their uncle Richard III's death in battle and the repeal of said very parliamentary act which had declared Edward IV's and Elizabeth Woodville's children illegitimate (and this indeed needed to happen for Henry Tudor to be able to legally wed Elizabeth of York), the two princes in the tower would of course then have been first and second in line to the English throne, and their claim to the British throne was always much stronger and considerably more solid than Henry Tudor's own claim ever was. And with the children of Edward IV and Elizabeth Woodville suddenly no longer illegitimate, young Edward would have of course been king, with his brother Richard his heir apparent (and no, NOT Henry Tudor). No dudo de la calidad histórica de la novela, pero me ha resultado tremendamente aburrida, hasta el punto del tedio. Though there are elements of her arguments with which I agree, even the main hook of her novel--that the most famous surviving portrait of Richard III shows the face of a man who could not possibly commit such a murder--is flawed. Every portrait ever made has been the portrait of not one person, but at least two--of the sitter and of the artist--and the practice of reading a person's character through their portrait is an interesting one, though it must always be seen as very dubious. I loved this book - it had absolutely everything that I wanted/needed on the rainy winter weekend when I read this. The Publisher Says: Scotland Yard Inspector Alan Grant is intrigued by a portrait of Richard III. Could such a sensitive face actually belong to a heinous villain — a king who killed his brother's children to secure his crown? Grant seeks what kind of man Richard was and who in fact killed the princes in the tower.If you take the "players" in The War of the Roses, and place them in more modern times- one could almost compare them to The Mob fighting for control of their territory... In a way, this is why I love historical fiction, not because it sugar-coats all of the historical information and presents it in an easily digestible narrative, but because it dares to ask questions and share how the actual research of non-fictional topics can be fun. It has the power to inspire people to learn more. This book remains an all time favourite, although I would now consider Brat Farrar as the best Tey I have read.

The two princes were more of a threat to Henry VII as the foundation of his Tudor claim to the crown was significantly less good than theirs. I first read this novel donkeys’ years ago in paper form. This time, when reading it again as a buddy read with two lovely and talented GoodReads pals, Delee and Lisa, I utterly melted as I listened to the amazing Derek Jacobi’s mellifluous voice as the narrator. If you can get The Daughter of Time as an audiobook, be sure to do so! I'm not sure how historically accurate the details of Tey's argument are, nor whether her evidence would stand up in a modern court of justice, but the case for Richard is presented in a convincing manner and makes a gripping read, mainly because the protagonist, Inspector Alan Grant, is absolutely convinced of Richard's innocence and hell-bent on finding evidence to support his subjective impression of the man, taking a violent dislike to Richard's most famous biographer, Sir Thomas More, in the process. I love books in which the characters get passionate and even a little obsessive about things, and Tey's Inspector Grant is nothing if not obsessive. His ferocious zeal for his quest (often expressed in violent outbursts to startled nurses) is quite infectious, to the point where you find yourself wishing for a big pile of history books and access to the British Museum to verify Grabt's discoveries for yourself. At least that's what the book did for me. After finishing The Daughter of Time, I spent several hours on line Googling the authors and historians Tey mentions in her book, some historical, others seemingly fictitious. In the course of my research, I came across several Ricardian societies, all working towards a rehabilitation of the last Plantagenet king. Many of their members seem to have joined after reading The Daughter of Time. In short, Tey's book has been influential, and for good reason -- it's a fascinating journey through English history, and a grand tale of high-minded obsession to boot. It had me add several history books to my to-read list. I love books which make me enthusiastic for previously unexplored subjects, so as far as that's concerned, Tey did a great job.Butler, Pamela J. "The Mystery of Josephine Tey". R3.org. Richard III Society (Internet Archive). Archived from the original on 15 April 2011 . Retrieved 13 November 2013. Brat Farrar (or Come and Kill Me) (1949) (the basis, without on-screen credit, for the 1963 Hammer production Paranoiac) Susan Moody, ed. (1990). 100 Top Crime Novels Selected by the Crime Writers' Association. London. ISBN 0-904030-02-4. {{ cite book}}: |work= ignored ( help) CS1 maint: location missing publisher ( link)

I can't even put my finger of why I thought the book was so enjoyable - part of me liked the characters and the banter, part of me liked the "mystery" element, even tho there is little mystery to it, and part liked the historical aspect of it. I loved how Tey chose to format the story, how she disguised her research into the story of RIII as a hobby to pass time with. For me, another one of those is Josephine Tey in The Daughter of Time. This is an extremely well put together advocacy of something that you then have to go away and read up on to realise it's probably not true. I like the Wars of the Roses, and I have to agree with majority historian opinion on this one: Tey's conclusion (or Tey's protagonist's conclusion) is probably not what happened. But for that glorious week, her conclusion slotted so beautifully in place, that it seemed to me to be the only possible way for events to have occurred. I showed it to my partner, and told him to go in sceptical, and he came out exactly the same way. That is a spectacular piece of sophistry, and I can't think of any circumstance in which I'd rather find it. I have long had a bit of fascination with this little bit of history, so it was fun to review the facts with Grant and see where the path led him. It wasn’t, however, even close to being the novel I had expected. When Richard III’s remains were unearthed in 2013 and reinterred in Leicester Cathedral, there was a sense of something being put right for me. At last we were able to learn the extent of his bodily deformities, and if those were so exaggerated, I couldn’t help but wonder how much the deformities of his soul might have been exaggerated as well. Murdered for owning Christ supreme Head of his Church, and no more crime But her not owning Prelacy And not abjuring Presbytry Within the sea tied to a stake She suffered for Christ Jesus sake. Richard III is one of history’s most notorious villains. Thanks in large part to Shakespeare’s play, he is known as a remorseless usurper who murdered his young nephews, the “princes in the tower,” so that he could become King. He was King for less than two years, but he remains one of the more memorable characters from British history.

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While I gave up on understanding each and every royal relationship—you may have to be English to do that—Grant’s process is fascinating. He starts with the histories, but then realizes they are nothing but hearsay, and upon scrutiny, dubious hearsay at that. For our theory-addled brains, what Tey accomplishes here is New Historicism in motion. Nothing new to us, perhaps, but a particularly fresh approach in 1951, when history was often venerated as fact, rather than the saga of the winners. And I don’t mean to imply we’re any brighter now; it’s likely we’re dumber, but few look at history books today with the calm acceptance I experienced when I read, for example, that Christopher Columbus “discovered America,” since America apparently had no history until white people arrived. Scotland Yard Inspector Alan Grant (a character who also appears in five other novels by the same author) is feeling bored while confined to bed in hospital with a broken leg. Marta Hallard, an actress friend of his, suggests he should amuse himself by researching a historical mystery. She brings him some pictures of historical characters, aware of Grant's interest in human faces. He becomes intrigued by a portrait of King Richard III. He prides himself on being able to read a person's character from his appearance, and King Richard seems to him a gentle, kind and wise man. Why is everyone so sure that he was a cruel murderer? a b R. Gordon Kelly, "Josephine Tey and Others: The Case of Richard III", in Ray B. Browne, Lawrence A. Kreiser, Jr, et al. (eds.) The Detective as Historian: History and Art in Historical Crime Fiction, Volume 1, Popular Press, 2000, p.134.

Un inspector de policía de Scotland Yard, postrado en su cama por una caída, tras ver un retrato de Ricardo III, decide investigar porqué se le considera un rey despótico cuando su rostro no denota tales tendencias. The Expensive Halo: A Fable without Moral (1931) - about two pairs of brothers and sisters, one aristocratic, the other working class. Her only non-fiction book, Claverhouse, was written as a vindication of John Graham, 1st Viscount Dundee, whom she regarded as a libeled hero: "It is strange that a man whose life was so simple in pattern and so forthright in spirit should have become a peg for every legend, bloody or brave, that belonged to his time."Mann, Jessica (1981). "Josephine Tey". Deadlier than the male: why are respectable English women so good at murder?. New York: Macmillan. ISBN 9780025794603. It’s hard to read A Daughter of Time and not think of James Stewart, similarly laid up in Rear Window, which was produced only a few years later than Tey’s mystery. Josephine Tey presents the pro-Richard arguments in an unusual way. Published in 1951, the novel is set in the first part of the 20th century. Alan Grant, an inspector from Scotland Yard, was injured while pursuing a suspect. He is laid up in the hospital for weeks recovering from his injuries. Bored out of his gourd, he is looking for something to occupy him. It comes in the form of a picture, a print of this painting of King Richard III: