Note to self: don't read any more books by Marie Benedict. Too much hagiography for my tastes. I wish she wouldn't use first person. By the end of the book, I had no sympathy for Clementine Churchill. Her shortcomings were not humanizing, and her successes were just underwhelming. I thought of giving this two stars for the style, but I guess begrudgingly I did learn some things, and I guess that's why I thought of reading it in the first place. But enough is enough for this style for me. ( )

I couldn’t finish this book. The first person narrative bothered me for this one because I found Clementine arrogant and cold. ( )

Lady Clementine is a fictionalized partial biography about Clementine Hozier Churchill, wife of British Prime Minister Winston Churchill, from their meeting and marriage in 1908, through the end of World War II in Europe in 1945.

I'm not particularly fond of Marie Benedict's style for her biographical novels - telling the story in first person and present tense.  Each chapter begins with a date (or dates) and location(s), but using present tense makes the chapters seem less like the journal entries such chapter headings might imply.

However, I do love that Benedict writes about little-known women whose accomplishments are usually overshadowed by their more famous husbands, or by other men they work with.

This book does make me want to read the biographies of her parents by (and memoir of) the Churchills' daughter Mary, which Benedict cites as some of her sources in her afterword, to learn more. ( )

I like the way the life story of Clementine Churchill is presented in this book. It's written in the first person in the style of a diary, with short chapters each written around an event. It made it a readable book for me. There's some standout scenes, like Lady Churchill's encounters with Charles DeGaulle. One in 1940 when he was leader of the Free French, and a follow up in 1944. I was disappointed there was nothing about Churchill's support for King Edward VIII in 1936, prior to his abdication. Similarly, the message Clemintine delivered to Stalin in 1945 is not revealed even after a buildup.

This is a well presented biography of an interesting person with a unique perspective on her life and times. Recommended. ( )

Written as a first-person account, this historical novel is based on the life of Clementine (pronounced Clemen-teen), wife of Winston Churchill.

The book begins on their wedding day (1908) and ends with the declaration of peace on VE Day (1945). It details their lives together as she helps chart her husband’s political career. She saves his life several times, supports him emotionally, and advises him on speech writing, national policies, and even military decisions. She is not above manipulating people for her own purposes.

Though I was interested in learning about the great woman behind the great man, the book becomes tedious through repetition. It becomes tiresome to read about Clementine’s failings as a mother, Churchill’s demands on her, her catering to his whims, and her need to be frugal with household expenses.

The book reads more like series of anecdotes than a unified narrative. The book is organized chronologically around personal and political crises. Often there’s a gap of years between chapters so the effect is one of choppiness. At times there were information dumps, as if the author wanted to include all that she had discovered in her research. As a result, I often felt like I was being more educated than entertained.

Of course, what also emerge are detailed character sketches of both husband and wife. My image of Winston Churchill has always been the one from Yousuf Karsh’s photo which is often called “The Roaring Lion.” Indeed Clementine describes him as “a great hulking presence of a man, intimidatingly fierce to so many.” But beneath that public persona is a needy, sensitive man who expects his wife to provide emotional stability. He is moody, subject to both “blasts of anger and intemperate outburst”, and bouts of depression. She also describes him as demanding as he “plows through life towards his goals, without self-care or concern about his effect on others.” Despite his flaws, Clementine stands by her husband, admiring his willingness “to take risks . . . even if unorthodox or unpopular – if it serves the greater good.”

Clementine is a strong-willed, intelligent woman. Forward thinking, she supports women’s rights. During World War II, she undertakes causes which she feels need attention but for which her husband does not have the time. At times though she comes across as conceited about being a political asset to her husband; she becomes offended if not given sufficient credit. I loved her sister’s comment: “’You know you are not the lord admiral, don’t you, Clemmie?’”At one point she asks, “Must every act I undertake and every statement I make be dictated by the rubric of his political success and the demands of his personal comfort?” It is difficult to sympathize because, on her wedding day, she freely choses this life “of striving and ambition.”

I understand that motherhood was different in the early 20th-century and for the social class of which the Churchills were a part, but I expected some growth in her role as mother. She places her husband before the rest of her family. She questions, “What sort of mother have I become? Is it the war and Winston that have made me so remote? Or is it an unfortunate consequence of my upbringing? A failing of my nature?” Despite continuous self-flagellation about her poor parenting, she doesn’t change. Because she suffers from nervous exhaustion, she takes extended trips to exotic locales and gives little thought to her children: “Another, better sort of mother might worry about the effect of a prolonged absence on her child.” She mentions that she would “hate to appear self-indulgent” but that is exactly how she seems. The tragic death of a child has her castigating herself, saying she should “have been more cautious in guarding my child. I should not have allowed Winston to take precedence in my life,” yet her behaviour doesn’t change. She is the neglectful mother that her own mother was.

Though I admire strong, independent, outspoken women, this book didn’t resonate with me. I never emotionally connected with Clementine. The book has, however, succeeded in encouraging me to pick up a biography of Clementine Churchill.

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