Like most medieval women, the details of Cecily Neville’s life have been lost to the passage of time and overshadowed by the often-male-led research that has been solely and blindly focussed on the lives of her husband and sons. This means that, although I appreciate all that John Ashdown-Hill was trying to do, a majority of this book’s 312 pages contained only speculation about where Cecily was and what she was thinking during each of the time period’s most crucial moments. Honestly, this makes me unspeakable angry. This woman played a pivotal role in the War of the Roses and we don’t even really know how to spell her name? I mean, come on. So, even though the book was obviously well-researched, the lack of information available turned the life of a bloody incredible woman into a blurred, repetitive mess. And because of that, I couldn’t help that my overriding impression (and really only takeaway) of the book ending up being that Cecily Neville - and John Ashdown-Hill - deserved better.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for sending me a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
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