In the spring of 1536, Anne Boleyn, just 36, stood at the Tower of London. On a clear morning, the Frenchman’s sword fell, and the queen’s head rolled, blood gushing, loyalty punished, and betrayal sealed by her own husband.

The scarcity of thoughts leads to the motion of untrammelled dreams, a tsunami of figments and a welter of emotions. When the mind is...