Exactly eight hundred years ago, King John of England lay dying in a bed in Newark Castle. He would die in the night, among rumours of poison, or “a surfeit of peaches” – while in truth it was a bad case of dysentery. Then again, most contemporary biographers would be eager to give him a death that was the product of either retribution or gluttony…
Poor John.
Maybe it’s just contrariness, but since childhood I’ve wanted to side with John. I cannot stand the Lionheart, and can’t bring myself to like Robin Hood, either. At one point I was given a book of Robin Hood stories. I may have been eight or ten – during my Medieval period, anyway – and I remember heartily disliking Robin. I did like Will Scarlet, though – if only because, when imprisoned and doomed to die, he confessed to being afraid of hanging, and asked to be spared the indignity…
But I’m straying. John. Well, in that book Prince John was quite despicable, and what little is seen and heard of him in Ivanhoe is hardly better. So it must really have been contrariness that sent me questing for more sympathetic portrayals. And because I could find precious little (even Shakespeare’s John, while not actively evil, is an indecisive incompetent at best), at sixteen I wrote a one-act play where a peach-surfeited John, while far from an admirable character, at least gets to rant about the way history and fiction treat him.
Twenty-five years and a good deal of reading later, and while by all account he seems to have been an unpleasant person at the very least, I still think that he was left to disentangle circumstances not of his own making – and mostly failed. Not up to it? Most likely. Quintessentially villainous? I don’t think so. He was more floundering than evil, and I can’t help feeling still a certain amount of sympathy for him, poor Bad King John… Just as I can’t help thinking that Good King Richard was good mostly because he was away from England for most of his life.
Ah well. I’ve acquired a copy of Philip Lindsay’s The Devil and King John, and I’ll have to see what kind of John it portrays. Meanwhile, do read what John’s recent biographer Stephen Church has to say on the matter, in this interview for Casting Light Upon the Shadow.
I’m sorry.
I stopped reading where you say that you don’t like Robin Hood.
I hope you used the rest of the post to apologize to your readers for your poor taste.
π
As for the Lackland, he was a Plantagenet, so he was by default a bastard – but that’s not a bad thing in a king, especially in Medieval times, I guess.
LikeLike
π Apologize? No, forsooth! No apologies, no shame, no guilt, no regret: I don’t like Robin Hood – so sue me.
Or – I’ll qualify that: I dislike him a shade less than I do Richard, and I’ll admit part of the blame may be laid at the door of that childhood book, where he was so noble-minded, good-hearted, brave, gentle, smart, pious, omnicompetent and generally faultless… What can I say? Even as a little girl, I never had it in me to like heroes of that ilk.
LikeLiked by 1 person
My lawyers will get in touch with your lawyers.
While we wait, you might like to take a look at “Robin and Marian”.
Excellent movie, you might like it.
LikeLike
Oh, but I have seen it… Sean Connery and Audrey Hepburn, is it?
It’s not that I am Robin-deprived or anything. I just… don’t like him?
And unless you want to settle it with, I don’t know, an archery contest, my lawyers will wait to hear from yours.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, c’mon… Robin Hood, Tarzan, Kim, Athos, Portos, Aramis, Luke Skywalker, Buckaroo Banzai… I see a pattern emerge here.
And I’ve been practising archery since 1986. I’m pretty good – I can hit a poet and playwright in one eye from two tavern tables away.
LikeLike
What did poor Kit ever do to you, I wonder? π
And you already know what I think of Tarzan, and I rather dislike Athos as well, and I don’t even know who Buckaroo Banzai is. The other three, I’ll admit, are another kettle of fish.
And, being a passable archer myself, this could become interesting…
LikeLike
You don’t know who Buckaroo Banzai is.
Is this supposed to be funny?
And I wonder: how do archery duels work?
I mean, it would be silly to stand twenty paces apart and skewer each other like roast chicken… and basically, shooting a few arrows at a target and see who does best is pretty anticlimactic… Got any idea about how it’s properly done?
LikeLike
I rather doubt it’s done at all… In fact, I rather had a contest in mind, not a duel, but you are right: anticlimatic in the extreme.
Ah well, it’s back to the lawyers, I guess.
(And no, I truly do not know who BB is. Grew up on a plane tree, remember?)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Poor poor Claire, growing up Banzai-less… π¦
LikeLike
Worry not, dear Doctor: I’ve managed to live a fairly happy life all the same…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pingback: That archer guy from Sherwood | Karavansara