The Saxon Stories, Cornwell’s historical novel series (and his most successful work), has now reached its eighth installment. The story continues with The Empty Throne, narrating the creation of unified England – a tale filled with the clang of weapons. The series, which began with the early years of King Alfred’s reign in the last quarter of the 9th century, has long followed the same recipe:
British kingdoms teetering on the brink of collapse under the pressure of Norwegian-Danish migrants, evolving into permanent no-go zones; the increasingly powerful Catholic Church; and Uthred, who, despite wanting nothing more than to reclaim his god-damn, stolen family inheritance, finds himself shouldering the weight of a nation’s survival. Again. And again. And again.
And this recipe works again and again – as it does in the case of The Empty Throne, thanks to meticulous preparation, an effortless yet pleasant writing style, and above all, Bernard Cornwell’s endearing, infinitely relaxed protagonist (who learned this attitude from the fine, cheerful, and also bloodthirsty Vikings who raised him.)
It’s also evident that if the elder (and with each passing book, increasingly rickety) Uthred of Bebbanburg is out of the game, there’s always a “replacement,” as his son, a spitting image of his father, speaks in the unmistakable voice of his father in the prologue. In short, the story could even continue until Richard the Lionheart.
And perhaps that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, because it’s infinitely easy to identify with Uthred of The Saxon Stories: he represents morality against the eye-rolling and bigoted clergy and the political schemers, all while doing so with incredibly entertaining, sarcastic commentary.
After the undeniable sameness of the previous volumes, it’s refreshing that due to the events of the previous installment, the main character, who was temporarily exempt from physical activity, is forced into political maneuvers to assist the most suitable person to ascend the throne. And fortunately, for the first time in the series’ history, the book doesn’t end with a decisive battle.
The Empty Throne, like the entire series, is at times hilariously profane. I laughed out loud several times while reading, even though I haven’t done that since the outbreak of the coronavirus pandemic last year.
„Eveshomme, he claimed, was named for a swineherd who had chatted with the Virgin Mary while his pigs rooted about in the beech woods.
‘What did they talk about?’ I had asked him.
‘God’s grace, I’m sure!’
‘That sounds thrilling.’
‘It is, Uhtred, it is!’ he had insisted. ‘And men and women go to Eveshomme in hope of meeting our Lady.’
‘And do they meet her?’
‘I pray so.’ He had sounded dubious.
‘Have you been?’ I had asked him, and he nodded, rather reluctantly. ‘And did you see her?’
‘Alas, no.’
‘Maybe you’d have had better luck if you’d taken some pigs with you.’
‘Pigs?’ He had been puzzled.
‘Perhaps she likes bacon?’”
8.4/10
The Empty Throne (The Saxon Stories/Last Kingdom #8) by Bernard Cornwell
302 pages, Paperback
Published in 2014 by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd