Madonna Of The Seven Hills (1968) - Plot & Excerpts
This is the first Jean Plaidy book I've ever read that did not concern itself with a Queen of England. I was expecting the reading of it to be a stranger experience.But Jean Plaidy is always Jean Plaidy, writing as if she's telling a fairy tale but not sparing us any of the unsavory or unpleasant details. So of course she had to take on the infamous Lucrezia Borgia.I've noticed a tendency, in Plaidy, to build the tale around the most popular anecdote about her subject known at the time, whether it's truth or folklore. Thus, for instance, The Follies of the King is one long argument/justification for the infamous (and possibly fanciful) murder, at the behest of his long-suffering wife, of Edward III by means of a red hot poker. And thus this first of two books Plaidy wrote about Lucrezia and the rest of the Borgia family is just a giant bit of foreshadowing for the legendary fratricide of Lucrezia's brother Juan/Giovanni by her other brother Cesare.Thus even as it tells the story of Lucrezia's father's elevation from Cardinal Roderigo Borgia to Pope Alexander III despite being the father of three and possibly four illegitimate children by a courtesan, which is a tale quite worthy of a novel in its own right, Madonna of the Seven Hills focuses on perhaps the most famous case of sibling rivalry gone wild since Cain and Abel, except this time, instead of God's favor, the brothers are dueling for that of their own sister and father.*Some later writers (Madonna of the Seven Hills was first published in 1958) might have gone all out for the scandalous, salacious incest plot, but Plaidy, as always, was more interested in who Lucrezia really was and why she would accept and even embrace a situation that most modern women would find intolerable. From the first pages, we see Lucrezia as a girl born to a bizarre station in life (tartly observing at one point to her friend Giulia Farnese [who has also by that point taken over Lucrezia's mother's job as the pope's mistress] that accepting bribes and telling her father all about them is her job) but who never knew anything else; the only daughter of a family of vain, proud, selfish and violently passionate pseudo-aristocrats who can't afford not to stick together however much they have gotten sick of each other.So of course Plaidy's Lucrezia** grows up to be a pathological people pleaser. She is rich and powerful and beautiful and educated, but despite these advantages her self-worth is bound up only in how her father and brothers react to her; if they are adoring her, they are not fighting each other, or killing people, or starting wars or seduce-raping innocent girls (or boys) -- so it's very important that they keep on adoring her, even if it means keeping them trapped as rivals for her attention and affection. Whether or not she had a sexual relationship with any of them is quite beside the point, for Plaidy; if she did, it was just another symptom. Plaidy is more interested in how the rumors got started than if they were true.As I said, though, all of this is just foreshadowing for the culmination of the big and legendary hatred between Cesare and Giovanni***, the two brothers who have only ever been friends when they were teaming up against an outsider whom they perceived as a threat to the family (usually a husband or lover or would-be lover of Lucrezia's). It's a tricky thing Plaidy has done here, making us sympathize for their prize even as our author so obviously taps her foot impatiently waiting for the Big Showdown. Lucrezia gets humanized only to be turned into a thing, a prize, anyway.Which is to say that in Madonna of the Seven Hills, Plaidy may have achieved her greatest degree of verisimilitude, of art imitating life almost painfully perfectly, of all.But that's not quite what we turn to historical fiction/romance for, is it?*Alexander VI was an infamously indulgent and doting father, but even so, imposed his will on his children somewhat mercilessly. Giovanni, his favorite, he chose to be the soldier and the secular nobleman, blind to the fact that Giovanni was about as much a soldier as, as, well, as Cesare was a clergyman. And, famously, Cesare was the one who got trained up in the priesthood and made a Cardinal by age 18. Of course, had this not happened, Niccolo Macchiavelli wouldn't have had his model for The Prince, because Cesare wouldn't have had to become the consummate schemer he was, etc.**And possibly the historical Lucrezia, too.***Peculiarly, the actual murder is dealt with offstage, which feels like a bit of a cheat after all of the build-up, but again, is the sort of anti-climactic "truth" writers like Plaidy most like to highlight, even at the expense of causing the last third or so of the novel to fall flat.
I've never read any of Jean Plaidy's books before and read this because it was nominated by a historical novelists' book group I belong to that focuses on historical novels. I have many friends and relations who have enjoyed her books so was interested to see what the fuss was about, especially now that, having been out of fashion for a while, her books have been reissued.I found this a curious book. It reminded me partly of a high school history text book, carefully and elaborately explaining the facts in a digestible way, and the sort of essay we students might have been asked to write, imagining ourselves in the period. It was occasionally heavy-handed at slipping in period detail to anchor the story historically e.g. going on about Spanish style dancing versus Italian style dancing. This is not to be dismissive of the book - I enjoyed reading it and found it a real page-turner. However, I found it hard to believe that the heroine could have grown up as innocent and naive as she was depicted, growing up within such a dysfunctional and amoral family. Therefore although it felt historically accurate overall, it struck me that it might be a bit of a whitewash of Lucrezia Borgia. I also felt slightly uncomfortable with what was almost exclusively a portrayal of the upper classes with little regard for anyone else, other than as caricatures. It did feel like something that had been written decades ago, when the British class system was rather more rigid and deferential. As a bit of a leftie, I disliked that aspect of the book intensely. Having said that, I'm glad I read it, and I can completely understand how Jean Plaidy gained such a huge following. I'll be watching with interest to see how 21st century readers take to her - and how the rest of my book group responds.
What do You think about Madonna Of The Seven Hills (1968)?
As a schoolgirl I devoured Jean Plaidy’s novels. Her tales of intrigue and passion in high places were heady stuff for a girl attending a convent school. I longed to be one of Charles II’s mistresses, or live in Renaissance Italy. The books that remained with me most were her Lucrezia Borgia series. To a sheltered Catholic teenager, the ambitions and amorality of the Borgia pope and his family were shocking and titillating. Recently, I thought I might revisit Jean Plaidy and found second-hand copies of Madonna of the Seven Hills and Light on Lucrezia on the internet. My strongest memories came from the first volume, Madonna of the Seven Hills. Even after thirty years I could still recall images of Cesare Borgia murdering his brother from sheer jealousy, of his father, Roderigo Borgia, smoothly transferring his affections from his favourite son to the son he knew had killed him, of Lucrezia Borgia, heavily pregnant from a passionate affair held within convent walls, standing before a panel of cardinals declaring herself virgo intacta in order to obtain a divorce from an inconvenient husband. Plaidy’s version of Lucrezia Borgia was also a lesson in historiography. In portraying a woman whose name had come down in infamy as the innocent pawn of her father and brother, Plaidy taught me that history is not a set of fixed truths, but a narrative that can be turned and manipulated to the teller’s purposes.Yet for all that, on taking up the book again in my maturity, I was sorely disappointed and wondered how I could once have read it so avidly. I can only imagine that it was not for the style, but for the content, for those glimpses of sex and passion that appealed so viscerally to an adolescent becoming aware of her own desires. But yet how innocent an age it was, for they are only glimpses, a few passionate words, a post-coital smile, coy references. How different to the blow by blow descriptions we expect today. I struggled to read this book, spurred on by my determination to write this review, and, I must guiltily admit, to relive those old memories. The only way I could keep at it was by taking it to work with me where I would read anything as a diversion on a long and boring tram ride.Plaidy’s style transgresses the one important precept of novel writing. She tells rather than shows. The novel is mainly exposition interspersed with occasional, uninspiring dialogue. We are told everything about the characters’ internal workings, yet they still remain fundamentally unconvincing. Her character development moves from point A almost as far as point B. Cesare is angry and violent in the nursery only to get more angry and violent as a man. Lucrezia’s thoughts are actually more sophisticated in the nursery than in her treacherous adult world. Roderigo’s subtlety is celebrated, yet we must believe that he can turn a blind eye to whatever does not please him.The novel’s flaws are evident from the first few pages where we are introduced to Lucrezia’s parents and follow their separate musings on their lives. These long passages float from one subject to another, touch back on the first subject, go elsewhere and then return. Joycean perhaps, but not what the novelist was aiming for. In fact it read as a first draft in need of tidying up, and furnished the key to the underlying problem of the novel. Given the author’s output (over 200 historical novels under several pseudonyms) and the amount of research that must have gone into each novel, it is not surprising that they had to be written quickly, with little time for second thoughts. However, reservations aside, although I might have outgrown her, I have Jean Plaidy to thank for firing my interest in history and for introducing me to a world beyond the convent walls.
—Pauline Montagna
The novel opens just before Lucrezia’s birth in 1480 and continues through to 1498. The core of the story is her relationship with her father and two of her brothers, and of those brothers’ mutual hate of each other. Yet they both love Lucrezia to an unnatural extent, competing for her affection from the day she’s born.Must admit, I had no prior knowledge whatsoever about the Borgias, nor am I familiar with Italian history. I decided to read this partly because I’d heard/read references to the Borgia family and Lucrezia over the past few months, and partly because I enjoyed Jean Plaidy’s Isabella and Ferdinand trilogy.This book, however, did not prove as engaging as any novel in the aforementioned trilogy. At times I was losing concentration, owing to the lack of action. This tended to happen during long narrative passages, in which the author is telling the reader this, that, or the other in non-exciting terms. When the focus is on character interaction the novel comes to life. Otherwise there are sections that feel like they are lacking something in some way. The characterization is very good, as is the imagery. About halfway into the book the reader is introduced to Sanchia. This promiscuous beauty adds a little spice to the tale. Lucrezia’s volatile brother Cesare is a well-drawn character. He and his charismatic father, Pope Alexander VI, are two of the strongest characters in the book. Overall this book is worth reading despite being a little flat or slow paced at times.
—Phil Syphe
Baca buku ini berasa kaya nonton serial, dramatis, penuh intrik, serusayangnya ternyata bersambung T____TJujur aja, belum terlalu kenal dengan keluarga Borgia, keturunan Spanyol yang berhasil menjadi Paus di Vatikanbeuuuh, meskipun Paus, bukan berarti orang benar-benar suci looh... buktinya doyan pere' booo... punya anak haram jugakarena masih buku pertama, jadi kebanyakan sih tentang pengenalan tokoh-tokohnya, dan Lucrezia-nya ga terlalu jadi fokus di sini, baru akhir-akhir agak keliatan sifatnya, dan pas lagi berontak eeeeh... abis T____Tjadi pengen nonton serialnya aaah..
—Angelic Zaizai
