by Jaime Lee Moyer | Literature & Fiction |
ISBN: Global Overview for this book
Registered by beeofgoodcheer of Stowmarket, Suffolk United Kingdom on 11/16/2020
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1 journaler for this copy...
Journal Entry 1 by beeofgoodcheer from Stowmarket, Suffolk United Kingdom on Monday, November 16, 2020
Where do I start? Now I grew up faithfully watching Robin of Sherwood, so I can deal with a bit of magical realism in my Robin Hood legends, and this book has fae, dragons, goblins, spirits. I can deal with some anachronisms – modern language is fine with me, 12th century English would be very hard to follow. And I can deal with some shifting around of facts to make a better story. But this book takes the latter two too far, and the book badly needed fact checking and copy editing by someone who at least knows England, or had even actually read Wikipedia!

When the first reference to Sherwood Forest being in Lincolnshire appeared, I let it pass – the border is very close, and counties have changed boundaries. When the second reference came, I stopped and had a dig around. And surprise, surprise, Sherwood Forest has never been in Lincolnshire. And neither has Sheffield, as claimed later in the book. And in fact, Lincolnshire didn’t exist until Victorian local government organisation – there were three “parts” – Lindsey, Kesteven and Holland.

The geographical inanities only got worse. And okay, I was born and bred in the area so I know it well but a quick look at Google maps would have shown it doesn’t take a couple of days to walk from Nottingham to Hucknall, but it might take a bit longer from Hucknall to Mansfield… and as for the walking route from Mansfield to Sheffield (which logically would go through my home village) you do not enter the city from the Rivelin valley if you are coming from the south…

And don’t get me started on the anachronistic names… and the fact Sheffield was a hamlet and Hallam the major settlement… or that Abbott Tuck’s priory was given the wrong name (but at least he wasn’t described as an ex-Friar, which would have been another anachronism).

I’m afraid my pedantry lost the battle with what was a decent tale, and it did mean that suspension of disbelief, always vital when dealing with fae and dragons, couldn’t happen. I need to believe in the world that the author creates, and I just couldn’t.

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