Lucy Worsley (Reading, 52 years old) has been sneaking onto the televisions of British homes for a couple of decades dressed as Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth I or an 18th century courtesan. His successful BBC documentaries have revived the history of the United Kingdom in a relatable and provocative way. Graduated in History from Oxford, author of 19 books, chief curator for 21 years of the Historic Royal Palaces (the palaces that are part of the national heritage), her permanent smile, her childish mischief, with that medium hair always adjusted to one side with a barrette, have served to camouflage a militant feminism when approaching History.
He insisted on starting Six Wives (Six Women) his documentary series about the wives of Henry VIII. He refused to incorporate the name of the monarch in the title. The protagonists had to be them. Two Cambridge students were inspired by that work to create the musical Sixa global phenomenon that reinvents these women as pop divas and icons of feminism.
Worsley has now written a delightful book, If the walls could talk. An intimate story of home (Captain Swing), based on a previous documentary of his, where he tells the way in which the bedroom, the kitchen or the bathroom have conditioned our lives.
Ask. The story of little things. What is so fascinating about investigating everyday life?
Answer. I’m the type of historian obsessed with small details. I’m not saying that foreign policy or constitutional issues are not important, but I like the minimal aspects of daily life, which together can give you a complete image of the cultural and social features of an era. For years I have been in charge of the historical house museums of this country. And when visitors arrived at Hampton Court (the palace occupied by Henry VIII and his unfortunate wives) they asked not about Reformation politics or Baroque aesthetics, but about things like where they washed their socks, where they relieved themselves, or where they cooked.
P. We take for granted luxuries or habits like sleeping in our own bedroom or having our own bathroom.
R. Privacy is an aspect very determined by your own culture. Today in Europe it seems essential, but a little over a hundred years ago you could have been sharing a bed with your co-workers. Every time I talk about this topic, the history of the home and its belongings, someone always comes to tell me that they grew up in a house that didn’t have a bathroom, or that they washed clothes in the kitchen. It hasn’t really been that long since all that.
P. Clarify something for me. When historians say that our ancestors were not very different from us, I can’t help but think that today a toothache plunges us into misery.
R. We can perfectly identify with the feelings of Catherine of Aragon when she suffered the infidelity of Henry VIII and left her for a new wife. But it is true that some things are totally different, like the constant presence of God in day-to-day affairs. Or like hygiene. I always say, when asked what era in the past I would like to visit, any time after the invention of anesthesia.
P. But in other things perhaps they were better, or more resigned…
R. Communal life, in some ways, was more respectful than today. Today the rich and the poor inhabit isolated worlds. In the past, they were forced into greater contact with each other. One could even argue that in the 16th century the obligation of the rich to care for the poor was stronger. They believed in that idea of the Great Chain of Being, in which from God to the king, passing through bishops, dukes, small landowners or peasants, everyone knew where they fit. It may sound absurd to us, who aspire to social mobility, but it gave them the security of knowing their place in the world.
When asked what era in the past I would like to visit, I say any time after the invention of anesthesia.”
P. Defend me the figure of Henry VIII, that king who decapitated wives…
R. He created the Navy, legislated against the use of firearms, invented inflation by devaluing the currency, had ambitions for England that no previous monarch had had. And yet, he has gone down in history for all the melodrama of his personal life and for his sexual desire. And for his personal failure, being unable to ensure a succession. That failure, however, strengthened the country. Mary reigned, then Elizabeth, then Edward. Everything ended up turning out well, because the institutions were activated, realizing that they should provide the stability that the king had not been able to provide. Parliament was strengthened and the legal profession underwent changes.
P. And yet, in the popular imagination, their women continue to fascinate.
R. They are thought of almost as a hand of cards. Of six cards. All with the same value. And it’s not true. He was married to Catherine of Aragon for twenty years. With Catherine Howard, just one. With Anne of Cleves, just a few months. They do not represent the same. But the story is so attractive that each one has become an archetype. Catherine of Aragon was the tragic one. Anne Boleyn, the sexy one. Jane Seymour, the kind. Anna, the ugly one. Katharine Howard, the promiscuous one. They are stereotypes that say a lot about our own culture, and that were really forged in the 19th century, during the Victorian era.
P. He has also studied Queen Victoria in depth. And there the myth lies in the unconditional and passionate love she felt for her husband, Prince Albert.
R. If it were possible to ask Queen Victoria if she loved her husband Albert, she would answer yes without hesitation. But because those were the values and principles of the time. I think she held herself back from doing what society then thought was right. And at the same time I can’t help but feel sorry for Alberto, because in that same world, a husband was forced to have total control of his wife. And although she tried, it is difficult to control a queen.
“The queens, for reasons that have to do with their gender and their individual characteristics, ruled in a more consensual way.”
P. Elizabeth I, Victoria, Elizabeth II… it seems that they are remembered as good reigns.
R. Of course. The United Kingdom has always done better with queens than with kings. Each of them has represented a period of great stability and government by consensus. The queens, for reasons that have to do with their gender and their individual characteristics, governed in a more consensual way, with less posturing, with less warrior ardor like that of Henry VIII. England was never an absolute monarchy, there was always a certain duality in power. And this idea fits better with a woman on the throne.
P. Its popularity derives in large part from its impartiality. It is difficult to know what Lucy Worsley thinks about contemporary times and politics.
R. I’m interested in contemporary history, of course. And I have no qualms about pointing out that feminism is very important to me. But I don’t want people to know which party I vote for. I want the Story I tell to be like a big tent in which everyone feels welcome. And my only message, always, is to ask people to think twice about things. Because sometimes they are more complex than they seem.
In the 18th century, in an agricultural society, all family members worked. “When the possibility comes to work in a factory and earn a salary, it becomes a sign of refinement that your wife does not work and takes care of the home.”
In the 18th century, in an agricultural society, all family members worked. When the possibility comes to work in a factory and earn a salary, it becomes a sign of refinement for your wife not to work and take care of the home.
P. Like the Victorian era, praised and reviled.
R. Exact. It was an era of great energy and expansion, of great achievements and rapacious conquests, and at the same time an exaltation of conservative values. It was a time when women were confined to a domestic role. And this derived from the industrial revolution. In the 18th century, in an agricultural society, all family members worked. When the possibility comes to work in a factory and earn a salary, it becomes a sign of refinement for your wife not to work and take care of the home.
P. Recently, the National Gallery in London had a major exhibition dedicated to Artemisia Gentileschi, the great, long-forgotten baroque painter. Should we rescue the forgotten history of women?
R. In that sense I feel a little torn. I understand that, in part, it is a question of justice. But in recent years the history of women has gained a lot of popularity, and sometimes it has resulted in an elementary and easy version in which everything was wonderful. And it’s not like that. Women are like men. Brilliant, sometimes. Terrible, in others. Sometimes strong, sometimes weak. Sometimes smart, sometimes stupid. I don’t think women should always be rescued from the shadows, but at the same time I think we have a lot of rescue left to do.
P. Especially when it comes to great assassins. Her series of criminal women from Victorian England is a discovery.
R. I was tired of all those crime stories in which the first scene is a naked woman, brutally murdered and sexy at the same time. I loved the idea of giving the script a twist and telling the story of all those women who were in control of the situation and turned out to be very interesting. In a Victorian court in the 19th century, the court was the only place where a woman could freely say things like “My husband raped me,” “I was desperate and my children were starving,” or “This man did terrible things he should never have done.”