‘The Royal Governess’ revisits a queen’s past | Book review

The Royal Governess

By Wendy Holden

Berkley. 432 pps. $26

Reviewed by Steve Donoghue

Maybe many of Wendy Holden’s readers won’t recognize the name Marion Crawford, the main character of her new book, The Royal Governess, but once upon a time, Crawford was a best-selling author and the center of a controversy that fascinated readers on both sides of the Atlantic.

Crawford was governess to Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret, the daughters of the Duke and Duchess of York. The girls, who referred to her as "Crawfie," cherished her energy and honesty, and she retained her position even when the duke and duchess became King George VI and Queen Elizabeth in 1936 and their elder daughter, "Lilibet," was suddenly heir to the throne.

Those years are the playground of Holden’s novel, which begins with Marion studying at a teacher training college in her native Scotland and falling in love with a handsome young communist named Valentine, whose impetuous anti-imperialist sloganeering is the author’s first gesture at foreshadowing . Marion gets a job in the household of Lady Rose Leveson-Gower and quickly comes to the attention of Lady Rose’s sister, the Duchess of York, and finds herself installed as governess to the two little princesses.

Holden obviously relishes bringing to life her famous cast of characters, from the nervous, stuttering Duke of York to the tall, imperious Queen Mary, to strong-willed daughter Elizabeth (who would go on to reign longer than any monarch in English history), to her saucy, free-spirited sister, Margaret, to the Duke’s brother David (who would make history as King Edward VIII for abdicating to marry Wallis Simpson).

Standing out gloriously even from this colorful cast is Queen Elizabeth, by far Holden’s most winning fictional creation. The queen burbles, she merrily slings lingo such as “Tinkety-tonk, old fruit,”she slurps gin at untoward hours and underneath it all, as one character observes, she’s as tough as an old boot. Whether she’s charming a war-wary Ambassador Joe Kennedy or bucking up the spirits of her timid husband, this Queen Elizabeth thoroughly steals the show, both from Marion Crawford and from the future Queen Elizabeth, the teenager waiting in the wings throughout the book. That other Elizabeth remains stubbornly opaque.

Of course, a part of the charm of this performance is hindsight; Holden knows that Queen Elizabeth would go on to become the nationally beloved Queen Mother, clad in creamy frocks and feathered hats, smiling and waving to innumerable onlookers until her death in 2002 at age 101.

The Royal Governess is spirited, virtually clockwork enjoyment, humanizing the Windsor world through the death of two kings, the ordeal of an abdication, and the very real dangers of a world war. Through it all, Marion Crawford is respected by everybody in her glittering new world.

In the real world, it didn’t last. In 1950, Crawfie committed the ultimate act of lèse-majesté by writing about her experiences as royal governess in a book, The Little Princesses. The book sold briskly, but the royal family felt betrayed. They never spoke to Crawford again.

The Royal Governess shades that tension very neatly into the final pages. It’s doubtful the queen would enjoy it, but pretty much everybody else will.

Donoghue is a book reviewer living in Boston. He wrote this review for the Washington Post.