This has been a tremendously exciting year.On February 4th--this would have been my late mother's birthday--the remains found in Leicester were formerly identified as those of Richard III. In this house, everyone cried. He is the most maligned man this country has ever known. He was quintessentially English, and though it's been over 500 years, he has a huge following of loyal supporters.
I take great exception to foreigners hijacking our royal heroes, and then trying to convince us that they know more about them than we do. Yesterday, an American gentleman who looks like he's been overdosing on Big Macs and hasn't had a good fettle in years denounced Richard III as a "big piece of shit". He was supported by an American writer of Mills & Boon-style bodice-rippers--you know the ilk, they usually look like the back of a bus and write in the first person as some nubile wench--who along with a couple of others began lambasting me because they think I have turned Richard III and his brother Edward IV into Liberace and Scott! And please--don't use words like "sodomy". IF, and it's a big IF, it happened, just remember there are more ways of cooking an egg than dropping it into hot fat!
Not true, Dickon (or should that be Dickoff?) Clarke and Susie Ticklebottom! This is a classic case of what my late father-in-law called mistaking the dog-muck for the chippolatas!
What I said WAS that in my opinion, and looking at this from a psychological angle, the Duke of Somerset had the hots for Edward, and probably vice-versa, and that Richard III loved the Duke of Buckingham. I don't have Richard and Henry Stafford jumping into bed with each other. It IS possible to love someone without sex being involved. I love my cats, but I don't have sex with them!
I don't do this very often--in fact, I do it never. but for your prejudiced benefit, here's an extract from the book:
[ Gregory Woods, claimed to be “Britain’s first professor of gay and lesbian studies”, made an interesting observation regarding this matter:
We have this strict binary opposition between homosexuality and heterosexuality, but most people throughout history have not thought in those terms…Men and women didn’t communicate on equal terms, and women were not educated. So if you were a man—particularly a powerful man—only other men were going to understand you or be able to offer stimulating conversation. That’s why intimacy came primarily from other men. Who is surprised that it spilled over into sex, sometimes?
What also should be considered is Richard’s slight disability—not the hunchback promoted by the Tudor propagandists, but on account of what we now know was scoliosis or curvature of the spine. This may not have been noticeable while he was wearing clothes, but rejection or ridicule in the boudoir at some stage could have caused stress-related impotence which might have disappeared once he was in the company of another “non-comformist”, such as he may have regarded himself. Finally, there is the question of Richard’s high moral stance—the fact that, warned by advisers and physicians to refrain from having sex with his sickly wife for fear of contracting whatever malady ailed her, Richard may not have considered a physical relationship with another man adulterous—that is, of course, if his friendships with Buckingham and Lovell did progress beyond the platonic.  ]
In closing, might I add that no matter what I or any other Richard III supporters write about our hero, Mrs Ticklebottom and Big Mac will pooh-pooh it. I haven't read any of her work, nor would wish to if all she does is make Richard III look like some evil creep. She harps on that there is no proof which team Richard batted for--then in the next breath has him murdering children when there's no proof of that, either. I wasn't there, love, and neither were you! This poor man has suffered enough over the centuries, and we have now turned a corner where he can now start being shown some of the respect he deserves. We know what he looked like, and it's only a matter of time before they open that sarcophagus in Westminster and, by using his DNA, hopefully prove that the bones there are not those of the princes in the Tower.
In the meantime, stick to writing about your own people and leave our heritage alone. Might I suggest an "all powerful" story about the old lady with the prolapse in "Days Of Our Lives", as this seems to be the level you are aiming for?