Charles & Camilla: Portrait of a Love Affair

I picked up this book expecting the advertised insight into the relationship between Prince Charles and his long-time mistress Camilla, who at long last became his wife and is now known as the Duchess of Cornwall. It took perseverance. The flashes of insight are scattered through a narrative that begins with the monarchs of England and their mistresses from about the year dot. Or 736. Or something. And meanders down to the present day with endless details about the ancestors and descendants of kings, princesses, mistresses, near-mistresses, cousins, courtiers, generals, admirals, and probably a few of their horses. Reading this book is like a Sunday afternoon visit with a gossipy old uncle who knows everybody - and their dogs and cats. He rambles and rummages among a lot of boring history, can't resist going off on tangents, and yet if you listen long enough he does eventually dish the dirt. When you leave, you have learned something new, and you feel you've cheered up the old boy by engaging in the visit. Even if most of the begats and ranks and titles went in one ear and out the other. I agree with another reviewer: this book cries out for some charts to help the reader follow all of that genealogy described in such excruciating detail. This isn't a fast read. Nor is it uncritically admiring of anyone, including Charles and Camilla. On the subject of Charles' ill-starred first marriage, it's nowhere near as comprehensive and gifted as Tina Brown's The Diana Chronicles. But Brandreth leaves us with a portrait of Prince Charles as an intelligent, sensitive, dutiful boy who didn't respond as well as his sturdier sister to the often harsh regimens of his school days. Who grew into a dutiful and complex young man, still oddly diffident with women, and working hard to fulfill the duties of the unique lifelong role he was born into. Although it ended in tears - and worse - he began his first marriage in good faith, retained some affection and concern for Diana long after the marriage died, and was always an involved father. The portrait of Camilla is less complete, but then she wasn't famous from birth so information is harder to obtain. Brandreth presents her as a naturally happy person who likes to have fun. She's intelligent but not an intellectual, and is devoted to horses, hunting, gardening, and her close-knit family. And, for much of her life, to the Prince of Wales. Camilla grew up in a close and happy family, and her stability, warmth and optimism no doubt play a strong counterpoint to some of Charles' more skittish tendencies. She sounds like a good person to have as a friend: ready to have fun, loyal, and unlikely to make a fuss about a little mud tracked into the house. In Camilla, from the beginning, Charles found his soulmate. Brandreth eventually gives us a portrait of a deep and strong relationship that has survived against all odds. Whether you like these two people or not, they clearly belong together. I

After reading a previous biography on England's current monarch and spouse by Gyles Brandreth, I was keenly keeping an eye out for his next book, this time talking about the current Prince of Wales and his second marriage, this time to his long-time mistress, Camilla Parker-Bowles. Along the way, Brandreth takes a look at the history of royal mistresses, the ancestry of the couple in question, and reveals that there's quite a bit more going on than meets the eye. The custom of a prince or king having several mistresses -- what can be called 'girlfriends' today -- is a custom as old as when the first monarch plopped a crown on his head. Until recently, most royal marriages were arranged, where King A was available, or his son was, and King B had an unmarried daughter, and would exchange daughter in return for say, a peace treaty or financial support or whatever it was that they needed at the time. History rarely records what the poor girl thought of the match, and what was expect of her was to be fruitful, bear several heirs, and if she was lucky, there would be genuine affection in her marriage. For fun, royal men have turned to other women, an arrangement that winked at, but so long as they didn't make a fool of themselves, the men got away with it. It was only recently, with the union of England's Queen Victoria with a minor German princeling by the name of Albert, that romance -- and fidelity -- began to be the norm. For the first several chapters of the book, Brandreth discusses the various peccadillos of England's royal families, and shows how the standard came to be. The first cracks showed up with England's Edward VIII and the notorious Mrs. Simpson, a woman who was divorced, twice, and certainly not the virgo intacta that was expected of a royal wife. But Edward VIII stepped down for the woman he loved, and his younger brother Bertie -- George VI -- took the throne, and did a pretty good job of a task he never wanted. Stress and smoking made his reign a short one, and his elder daughter, Elizabeth II, is now England's queen. Which brings us to the current royal heir, Charles, the Prince of Wales, a young man of rather nervous temprament and the resources to live a life of a popular playboy. Unfortunately, he had those ears, and somehow the good looks of his parents skipped a generation. At a polo match, he met a young woman of aristocratic stock, funny, and just as interested as he was in polo and horses. She was Camilla Shand, somewhat pretty, and when she met the Prince, she commented, "My great-grandmother was your great-great-grandfather's mistress, so how about it?" The story, whether true or not, has entered myth, and it was rumored that the pair became lovers, and at least friends. But Charles was a bit uncertain about asking anyone to be his wife, and that lack of confidence let Camilla slip away to another man, a dashing Army officer by the name of Andrew Parker-Bowles. Camilla got married, raised some children, and remaine