Flambard's Confession

This is one of the only long stories I've ever read that didn't become boring in even one spot! I enjoyed every page & word in this book. If you have any historical inclinations at all, you'll love it.

Flambard's Confession is great book for history buffs. It gives a detailed picture of the feudalization of Anglo-Saxon England by William the Conquorer. It is fictionalised telling of the life of Ranulph Flambard, chief tax collector of William Rufus(William II) of England. Ranulph was born before the Norman Conquest to a priest and girlfriend and dies in the early 1100's during the reign of Henry I. Ranulph's was valued royal servant because he was educated and more importantly he was one of the few Normans at the time of the Conquest who spoke Anglo-Saxon. This is not a historical romance novel, but a good solid depiction of medieval life in Normandy and Anglo-Saxon England in the late 11th century and early 12th century.

I picked up a copy of this book many years ago. It is one of my enduring favorites! Durham brings her character to life, at a time in British history where the world seems to turn upside-down. Flambard, counselor and scribe to King William II, writes his memoirs while in prison, following King William's death. He has been tried for his crimes, committed in the name of the king and for his own enrichment. He is candid about his life and times, and asks for no apologies. The reader is given a wonderful glimpse at the history of England at this time, along with the changes the Church undergoes. While the book is extraordinarily long, the book flows well, and the reader is unaware of the passage of time, both figuratively and literally. I spent many nights up late, turning pages, enthralled by the skill of writing of this book. I recommend it highly, and any student of history will love it. Those who are not thrilled by history, will also like it and their knowledge of the times will be expanded.

Flambard's Confession is an absolutely superb book. It is the story of Ranulf Flambard, an important government official under William II (Rufus). Flambard has been identified by Thomas Costain as one of the greatest villains of English history, an assessment which, while not necessarily accurate, is not far from the truth. Flambard's Confession takes the form of a first-person account of Flambard's life, and is abslutely masterful at handling the contradictions and challenges posed by writing the autobiography of someone who is at least villainous, if not a thorough-going villain.I stumbled on this book, and loved it. I read an enormous amount of historical fiction about the Middle Ages, and did not know whether my feelings about the book were, at least in part, attributable to the fact that few novels have been written about William II and his period. To test this, I passed the book on to several other people, none of whom is a medievalist, and all of whom thought it was one of the greatest historical fiction novels ever written. I have no idea why this book did not receive more attention when it was written. SOMEONE NEEDS TO REPUBLISH IT. It is a marvelous book, and would sell well with the audiences who read Sharon Kay Penman, Dorothy Dunnett, and all similar authors.

Flambard's Confession is a historical novel of the autobiographical sort, a description of post-conquest England seen through the narrative persona of Ranulph Flambard, a historical figure about whom very little is known except that he (1) collected taxes, and (2) annoyed St. Anselm of Canterbury. The moral of this book: Never annoy a saint.Despite the considerable heft, this book is thoroughly engrossing, best I've read of the sort since Robert Graves. Part is due to the historical period -- a Chinese observer would call them "interesting times," chronicling the reign of William II. Part is the wealth of characters -- William himself, a flawed and headlong knight of the old school, who loves Cormac, an Irish relapsed monk and sodomite, who maintains an uneasy truce with Ranulph, who worshipped Cormac as a boy in the cloister and starts his secular career as a spy for William's Uncle Odo, a brawling and treacherous Bishop, who wants to place William's besotted brother Robert on the throne, but fails only to see the third brother, slimy Henry Beauclerk (Henry I) succeed instead. Ranulph -- "frail to women from his first day out of the cloister" -- must deal with knight's widow Isabel de Trie, the ditzy love of Ranulph's youth and mother of his arrogant bastard son Martin as well as the love of his life, the Saxon girl Elfgiva. The story is enlivened with cameos by Malcolm MacDuncan Canmore, MacBeth's bane, and his virtuous sister; various brutal and unscrupulous knights, treacherous lords, worldly churchmen, cynical commoners, and the infuriating Anselm, a saintly man somewhat too taken with his own saintliness -- prototype for either Mohandas K. Gandhi or Jimmy Carter, depending on your politics. Ranulph lives and dies as a robust, cynical, almost Rabelaisian cleric (the type was common then) and marvellous storyteller. I read it every few years, and find something new every time.