Queen James Review – best essays on men who love Britain’s first monarch | Television

That James I let his rule be shaped by his male lovers and history and not. No one was too shy to see it in time, which is why she was nicknamed “Queen James” by her critics. But Victorian historians refrained from discussing the king’s romance, to the point that his sexuality was not common currency. The original sources, especially in the epistles of James, are abundant, and contain vivid and interesting stories, but they have been used sparingly.

Gareth Russell is moving into this fertile territory, transferring his book Queen James: The Life and Loves of Britain’s First King to the computer. This is a good story, gossipy but not profane, updated with modern ideas without erasing the 17th century. Russell, kind when needed and kind when appropriate, is happy to know he has a good story to tell.

Apart from James – who was James VI of Scotland from his childhood, after taking England and Ireland and 35 years later in 1603 – the main players are Robert Carr, Earl of Somerset, who amuses the king when he breaks his leg in a game of athletics but looks beautiful in action; Carr’s secretary Sir Thomas Overbury, the political brain behind Carr when friendship with the king gives him power; and George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, a newcomer who succeeded Carr in the throne room. We are working in 1616, when Carr is accused of murder and may, if he despairs at the docks, take James down with him.

Russell, inspired by his fellow historians who meet in dusty museums and magnificent buildings, leads us to the complexities of James’s personality, from the many children he happily fathered with his wife, Anne of Denmark – more than the “heir and relict” required to appear – to the moral notes he wrote “innumerable”. We have been taught how the tastemakers of the early 1600s loved nothing more than two local men professing their love for each other, this being purer and nobler than a profane relationship with a woman, but not as clear as if they were crushing each other’s tires.

As Russell examines every gray area, and adds to the analysis of how James’s difficult upbringing and his unusual education made him a “smart and frustrated” ruler whose true nature was also hidden by his interest in PR spin, James becomes even more interesting if we don’t know about him.

What we are sure of is that, although James used his bedroom for important political decisions and private projects, Carr and Villiers were more than advisers. For this reason we have Jacob’s letters, which sing sadly and happily that would not have been there if he was just sending messages to his friends. Russell explains how, just as James couldn’t be sure if his lovers really loved him or just lusted after wealth and influence, anyone sleeping in James’s bed was unsure whether they would be with the man or the king.

This tension is best evoked by James McArdle, who reads the king’s letters. He stares us in the eye as he delivers a powerful juxtaposition of political power and personal vulnerability. An unusual but effective decision by director John O’Rourke places McArdle in a room so cold that his breath turns to mist as he speaks, each word hanging in the air.

In addition to dating the heir to the throne, Carr and Villiers also had to deal with a problem that turns out to be difficult in every century: dating a writer. Have a shout with James and the next morning you will receive, as Carr did, a regal note paper complaining about “your burning place”. Ask to go on a dark weekend in Scotland – as Villiers was – and the call to plunder is said as follows: “The salmon-like habit of our mind, without rest when we are awake and often when we are asleep, we are so encouraged in our minds and twist our desires to go there that we cannot be satisfied until it pleases God to do it.” I mean, it needs to be taken down but the guy’s got talent.

Russell has the gift, his description of Hampton Court as “the only night club in the world” and the mosques, the pleasures of the palace that James loved so much, as “a cross between Broadway musicals and a party election” being twice as often what the showman amuses as he informs. In his arms, James – crippled, hot-blooded, vocal, happy James – lives a new life.