KING HEREAFTER

An 832-page reconstruction of the life-and-times of the historical Macbeth, not Shakespeare's—and, though Dunnett's scholarly epic is rich in detail, irony, and elegant prose, most readers will find themselves yearning for the dramatic shaping and darkly vibrant characterization (not to mention the awesome concision!) of the Bard. As in other 11th-century historical novels, we quickly learn here that the authentic Macbeth tale has virtually nothing in common with the familiar one. "Macbeth" is actually the rarely used baptismal name of pagan-ish Thorfinn, a gawky teenage Earl of Orkney who is a grandson of King Malcolm of Alba (most of Scotland) and half-brother to Malcolm's heir Duncan. Tutored by foster-father Thorkel (the nomenclature throughout is dense and daunting), the lad grows up in the thick of Orkney/ Norway/Alba politics; he defects from the Norway camp, allying with Danish/English King Canute, thus gaining control of all the Orkneys; he expands his domain when Thorkel dispatches assorted enemies for him. (Thorfinn himself is a basically decent, mild-tempered chap, often speaking in the cadences of Ronald Colman.) And these early battles also bring a bride: Groa, gorgeous young widow of the slain Gillcomghain—who comments somewhat acerbically on Thorfinn's for-breeding-only conjugal visitations: "Four minutes. That was four minutes this time." Eventually, however, ugly but beautiful-voiced Thorfinn will come to love Groa (utterly unlike Shakespeare's Lady M. except for her verbal sharpness) deeply. Eventually, too, he'll become King of Alba—reluctantly: it's new King Duncan who's the invading aggressor; and, after losing in battle, Duncan is fatally wounded in a fair duel with Thorfinn (who tries not to kill his half-brother). The last two-thirds of the novel, then, deals with Thorfinn's career as a basically good king: a long, violent, sexually tinged feud with Norway-connected nephew Rognvald (duels, chases, burnings, sea battles); the building-up of Scotia's alliances and naval power; an extended diplomatic trip through Europe; and then the increasing troubles as 1066 approaches—from fleet-wrecking storms, from Siward of Northumbria in the south, from nephew Malcolm (whom Thorfinn always treated so nicely). There are battles, betrayals (by Denmark and Normandy), retreats, semi-retirement—and, finally, a dignified surrender via suicidal duel. Dunnett, author of several mysteries and the Francis of Lymond series, studs this knotty political pageant with tart dialogue, aphorisms, and tender husband/wife moments. Her scene-by-scene craftsmanship cannot be faulted. Yet neither Thorfinn/Macbeth nor Groa is a fully developed (or especially interesting) character here; the true-to-history plotting lacks momentum; and while pre-1066 buffs will certainly enjoy Dunnett's stylishly fictionalized scholarship, more of the historical-novel audience will prefer less authentic entertainments—like Farrington's The Breath of Kings (below), which covers precisely the same period, Lady Godiva and all.