In The Company Of The Courtesan (2007) - Plot & Excerpts
Historical novels are always as much about the present as about the past. When Margaret Mitchell was writing "Gone With the Wind," for example, women had recently received the right to vote and a certain measure of sexual freedom. Scarlett O'Hara is more like a flapper of the Roaring Twenties than like any actual Southern woman of the Civil War era – more Zelda Fitzgerald than Mary Chesnut. The trick is to keep up the illusion of the past. In her first historical novel, "The Birth of Venus," published in 2004, Sarah Dunant just barely concealed her contemporary concerns -- about the rise of fundamentalist theocracies and the subjugation of women and gays – behind the façade of a novel set in 15th-century Florence. Her new book, "In the Company of the Courtesan," is a smoother performance. Dunant's 21st-century sensibility – her attitude toward sexual politics, religious intolerance and the treatment of the disabled – is neatly blended into a plausible portrait of life in 16th-century Venice. When the novel opens, we are in Rome, where 21-year-old Fiammetta Bianchini has already earned a fortune in a career that offers, let us say, horizontal advancement. What better place for a courtesan to strike it rich than a city full of wealthy, amoral and supposedly celibate men? "Ours was a house that had seen cardinals and diplomats gamble away the tribute of a small town over which of them should share my lady's bed that night," says the novel's narrator, the dwarf Bucino, who is Fiammetta's confidant and financial manager. But it's 1527, when Rome was sacked by the troops of Charles V, and Fiammetta and Bucino are forced to flee the raping and pillaging. They haven't lost quite everything: They swallowed some of her jewels before they fled, and Bucino has in his possession a book that will prove to be even more valuable. But Fiammetta was set upon by a gang of angry women who shaved her head, so restoring her beauty -- and thus her livelihood -- will be a top priority. After a harrowing journey, they arrive in Venice, where Fiammetta enlists the services of a blind and deformed young woman known as La Draga, known for her skill with potions and ointments. Bucino is wary of La Draga, but he's won over when her treatments repair the damage done to Fiammetta's health and beauty. Fiammetta becomes the queen of Venetian courtesans, and Titian immortalizes her face and figure as "The Venus of Urbino," a sensuous nude whose erotic charge may be measured by the fact that Mark Twain described it as "the foulest, the vilest, the obscenest picture the world possesses." But the novel is as much about Bucino as it is about Fiammetta. Dunant has skillfully imagined what it's like to have his physical limitations, his pride and self-consciousness and loyalty. Bawdy, funny, cynical and smart, Bucino keeps the narrative literally and figuratively down to earth. Indeed, he's a better-drawn character than Fiammetta, who doesn't entirely rise above the prostitute-with-a-heart-of-gold stereotype, and whose wit and power over men we are more told about than shown. It's through Bucino's eyes that the novel's fabulous setting, Venice, comes to life – sights, sounds and smells, riches and perils. There wouldn't be much of a novel without the perils, and Dunant skillfully piles them on, starting with the gruesome sack of Rome, and she keeps some deliciously hair-raising secrets for late in the book. The book suffers only a little bit from historical-novelese: It's hard to write period dialogue that doesn't veer into either highfalutin archaism or contemporary colloquialism. There are a few cameos by actual historical figures, such as Titian and the corrosive satirist Pietro Aretino, and you can feel Dunant straining to make them seem as real as the characters that come mostly from her imagination. In a note at the end of this colorful page-turner, Dunant apologizes for her conscious distortions of fact as well as for any unwitting mistakes, lamenting "that extensive research and a deep love of the period cannot, alas, turn a fiction writer into a historian." Not to worry, Sarah. When you keep us as entertained as you do here, that's good enough. Besides, reading a historical novel for the history is like eating chocolate for the antioxidants. The history and the antioxidants are just fringe benefits – the true appeal lies elsewhere. In this case, it lies in a good story well told.
I wanted to like this book. The story was great and I loved the concept, but there were too many things that ended up annoying me. On the positive side, it was very well written. I did love the character Fiammetta. I wish the book had focused on her throughout. And I liked the descriptions of courtesan life and of Venice. I especially liked the fact that the author took a real painting by Titian and seemingly created a story around it. Now for the less positive stuff. [Spoiler Alert] About 3/4 of the way through the book, the plot abruptly changed from focusing on the two main characters, Fiammetta and Bucino, to a secondary character, La Draga. This wouldn't have been a problem, and it was interesting in and of itself, but it had very little context, and it seemed a bit hastily thrown in at the end. I found it somewhat unbelievable that Bucino would just "discover" that he was in love with her. There wasn't really any motivation, except that he bumped into her a lot throughout the book, thought she was weird, and was annoyed by her.There were also a lot of small plot details that could have been developed but instead seemed to be randomly picked up and dropped along the way. For example, the Jewish pawnbroker makes a few appearances, disappears for a long interlude, and then briefly returns, only to contribute nothing to the story and disappear again. The Turk seems interested in Fiammetta, spends some time trying to convince Bucino to return home with him, and never appears again. The author describes a turbulent, vicious prior relationship between Fiammetta and Aretino, only to have the two instantly become friends in Venice, which didn't seem terribly believable, especially given that Fiammetta is blackmailing him. Also, the half-hearted way in which the two main characters sell pages out of their infamous book to help La Draga, when they could have been using it all along, annoyed me. It all just seemed a bit sloppy.All in all, this was a good story and the perfect thing to read on vacation, as long as you don't get all nitpicky over the plot like I did.
What do You think about In The Company Of The Courtesan (2007)?
A courtesan and her dwarf sidekick Bucino flee the 1527 sack of Rome only to reinvent their business in Venice. Fiammetta Bianchini is a top notch mistress trained to charm, entertain, and satisfy the men who are wealthy enough to support her. Although a renowned beauty, her true appeal is her wit which she used to escape rape and pillagement when the Spanish and Germans invade her home. Stealing away with only her dwarf companion and the jewels they have swallowed, they slowly make their way to her mother's house in Venice only to find her dead and Fiammetta's looks in jeopardy from the arduous trip. La Draga, an old friend now healer helps Fiammetta recover her looks while Bucino seeks to drum up business.As the pair establish their business, we learn a little of what life might have been like in Venice in the 15th century. Visitors and refugees flood into the city from all over. They meet up with old enemies that out of necessity become friends, and meet new friends that become enemies. The story, with all its ups and downs is a easy read as far as historical fiction goes. The twists and turns sustain the readers' interest as the unlikely trio make their livings in the heyday of Venice.
—Mckinley
I kept waiting for this to be lusher and smuttier than it was. The story follows the dwarf companion of a renowned courtesan in Venice's heyday. It starts with a dramtic escape from Rome as it's being sacked by some sort of protestant infidel, and watches the courtesan trying to make a name for herself in a new city as she befriends a strange, witchy woman. The relationship between the dwarf and the courtesan is the important one, but lacks meat until the book is nearly over. It's telling that I returned from vacation, picked it up to finish it, and had forgotten that I already had. Meh.
—Susan
Na Companhia da Cortesã foi a minha estreia com a autora Sarah Dunant. No inicio gostei imenso, mas há medida que ia avançando fui perdendo o interesse, chegando ao ponto em que tive de me forçar a ler. Na recta final, a história sofreu um twist que me voltou a prender ao livro.Na minha opinião, a sinopse engana um pouco: “Contudo, à medida que vão ficando mais ricos, esta sociedade perfeita fica ameaçada - devido à paixão de um amante que quer mais do que as noites a que tem direito, e às atenções de um admirador turco à procura de novidades para a corte do seu sultão. No entanto, o maior desafio provém de uma jovem mulher aleijada que se insinua nas suas vidas e corações com consequências devastadoras para todos.”Até diria que ‘eu devo ter adormecido na parte do amante que quer mais do que as noites a que tem direito’, só que tenho a certeza que não adormeci. Por isso das duas uma: ou quem escreveu a sinopse não leu o mesmo livro que eu, ou leu mas interpretou de maneira diferente. Ao ler aquela parte pensei que iria haver algum cliente que iria ser extremamente possessivo e quiçá fazer escândalos… alguém completamente maluco, opressivo e dominador. O que tive não foi nada disso, pelo que me sinto um tanto ou quanto defraudada.Relativamente ao ‘admirador turco’, dizer que ele colocou a sociedade entre Bucino e Fiammetta é um exagero: a intervenção dele mal causou impacto. Mais uma vez, sinto-me defraudada: esperava alguma tensão/abalo entre os dois por causa da dita intervenção, mas eles resolveram as coisas na hora e sem muitas 'ondas'.Por fim, no que concerne à jovem aleijada, ela revelou-se um desafio e a sua presença teve consequências devastadoras… mas foi na fase final [lembram-se do twist que falei?], ou seja, 90% do tempo que esteve em cena foi quase banal. Havia um leve mistério e misticismo à volta da personagem, mas nada do outro mundo. Apesar disso, foi das personagens que mais gostei no livro.É um livro agradável, porém extremamente descritivo para meu gosto, cuja sinopse engana e que, embora não conquiste, tem pontos fortes: uma boa história base que nos ensina um pouco mais sobre a vida [das cortesãs e não só] na Itália do século XVI e a incorporação de personagens verídicas.Livro lido no Blog Ring, cedido pela Vanessa. Obrigada!
—Cata
