Dad made it as far as the Renaissance before he died. The photo of him receiving this gift, though it shows him wearing his canula I think, is as so many pictures of my dad were: beaming with satisfaction. He was wonderfully surprised, and lived up to the gift with gusto.
Even run by The Demon Amazon, I remain dedicated to the booksellers who open their business to the internet, offering books I'd have a hard time finding - or paying for, brand new, from Demon Amazon - and keeping in circulation books which have been previously loved, used, read, ignored, and fortunately recycled rather than discarded. What you can find, buying used books, is an almost magical treasure trove compared to staying only on the path of new books, major retailers, chains in malls, mainstream recommendations and outlets. It may not be Bibliofind any more, but the ease of use and access remind me EVERY time I use it of that long ago excitement, as my whole family planned and purchased this set for dad.
I have those books now - it was far too much for my brother to include in belongings carried across a continent, several years ago - and more than my mom wanted to bring into a second marriage. I have not "read" them recreationally, not sitting down and just enjoying them for themselves, as dad so avidly did. But I've dipped into them (there was precious little to be said for Clovis I, sad to say) and have that irrational, materialistic attachment to them as an artifact of my dad which we sometimes conceive even where the one remembered was not materialistic nor even emotionally attached to the object we prize once they're gone.
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This week's used-book cruising has been a game of choose-and-cart or save-for-later, trying to find the right balance of subject matter and how much to spend (and of course losing my chance as a book is bought from a particular seller, too), wondering how much to get all at once and considering what is most important right-now. Considering, really, how much to spend. I spent too much, but I did whittle my way to a core set of texts last night, and already the email "your order of (fill-in-title) has shipped!" notifications are pouring in.
From a standpoint where histories of Byzantium, especially texts on Justinian (and Theodora), histories of the Goths, and examinations of Ravenna and the 6th century rage of Plague, I carved away the Byzantine Empire and finally Justinian, his plague, and (most reluctantly) "Ravenna - A Study", and saw my way clear to focus on some of the Goth works (particularly one wildly expensive textbook I found used for an acceptably discounted price in good condition) and Theodoric the Great. Even narrowing down this far, I still came away with five texts, which - being core to the work (I will work my way outward from my characters) - should keep me busy for some time. As it stands, I need, too, to revisit the research Clovis brought to me, which introduced me to Audofleda, Amalasuntha, and Matasuentha in the first place. My system in that first round of research was to use yellow highlighter for Ax when it was my WIP, and to highlight in pink the passages to go back to for Matrilineage (again - working title, and (I am aware, yes) not working all that well).
Right now, I'm not even sure whether Amalasuntha will end up being my sole main character. I resist, somewhat, putting Audofleda very close to the center of my concern. She was Clovis' sister, and though this work is born out of my creating The Ax and the Vase, I don't see them as necessarily related, and don't want to create links which could make the new work anything but an independent piece. Her daughter, Amalasuntha, almost represents a divorce from Ax, because she would have been as alien to the Franks as this work itself will be from the last. This novel, whatever else it may or may not become - is first and foremost a novel of women, whereas Ax was entirely focused on men. One man, of course.
As for the third generation of this matrilineal line - Matasuentha - so little is said of her in some ways she may be a letdown compared to her mother. Amalasuntha's story is so marvelously bizarre, so bracing, she compels me as powerfully as her uncle did before. Daughter of Theodoric the Great. Married at fifteen - to a *slave* - executed for his trouble. Married off again, to a cousin, and mother to Theodoric's grandson and heir. Queen regnant in that prince's minority. And (... SPOILER ... ???) murdered in her bath in 535, the year of Justinian's Plague - the year the (so-called) Dark Ages *began* ...
That alone makes the beginnings of a back cover blurb, of the pitch. So I do tend to focus on her most.
Like Clovis, again, Ama has been sparsely - if at all (though I've researched Clovis' place in American publishing, I haven't looked into Amalasuntha, at least lately) - invoked in English-speaking novels. She may be more popular than the Frank - ass-kicking Ostrogothic women being what they are - but even if so, the low mileage on my characters means they're showroom new compared to the Tudors or even Plantagenets. Mind you, I do love me a Plantagenet or two, and as long as we don't tittle-tattle of Boleynian incest, I'll still take in the redheads for entertainment's sake, especially if Keith Michell or Glenda Jackson have anything to do with it. But it's beyond my hutzpah to try to recreate those stages again, as if I had anything to add to their oft-told tales. I'm interested - but not captivated to the point Clovis and that fascinating Ostrogothic tangent have had me for years now.
And so - the research, again, begins, even as sketches (not real scenes, apart from that opener I still enjoy after all these years) play in the margins, as they're wont to do.
And
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