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Unfortunately I didn’t find out about the wonderful pro-female challenge that Ruminations on Reading is holding, until today. She’s encouraging people to read books by female authors in March, to celebrate Women’s History Month (apparently women get a whole month of celebration in the US, which sounds like a wonderful idea). I don’t think I’m now going to be able to read 3 books by female authors by the end of March, so my review of Sarah Dunant’s female focused, historical novel ‘The Birth of Venus’ will have to serve as my contribution to the March’s celebration of literary women.
Sarah Dunant has quickly become one of my top five historical novelists after just two books. I read ‘In the Company of the Courtesan’ last year, which was sumptuous and fascinating.
I was expecting nothing less from ‘The Birth of Venus’, which was written before ‘In the Company of Courtesan’. I wasn’t disappointed, Dunant breaths warm life into 16th century Florence, with a multitude of evocative, everyday details. ‘The Birth of Venus’ follows the life of Alessandra a closet artist in a family rising in status thanks to a successful cloth business. All Alessandra wants to do is draw and paint, but her future seems to be the unavoidable future of many women from well-off families; a marriage, made to advance her family’s status. When a painter arrives to decorate her family’s chapel Alessandra begins to yearn for freedom and artistic instruction even more.
Around her Florence is changing, a fanatical monk called Savonarolla controls the pulpit and the French are likely to occupy the city on their way to war. Finding little help from the painter, and wishing to avoid being sent to a convent, where she can be hidden from the advancing French soldiers Alessandra decides to try to take control of her own life by marrying an older man who she hopes will allow her some freedom. However others have subtly influenced Alessandra’s choice of husband, and while she gains freedom through her marriage she finds other things lacking in her life.
Dunant deals with the exotic elements of 16th century Italy, the scandal, the secrets, the warnings of hellfire and the trysts, yet it never feels as if she has manipulated history to sex up the story. Nor does she give her female characters unrealistic freedoms, although as many writers have, she creates characters whose situations would have allowed them the greatest amount of freedom in a restrictive, historical society. Alessandra is the daughter of a wealthy family, with an intelligent and reasonably lenient mother. She marries an intellectual man whose lifestyle means his wife is allowed more freedom than the average woman. Even when she eventually moves to the convent, which is mentioned at the beginning of the book and fills it with a deep sense of foreboding, the timing of her arrival means that convents are much more permissive than they had been. Lucky for Alessandra, and a historically justified way of keeping her free enough to have an interesting life. She still has to face tough opposition in her life, as the new religious order want to keep women inside and away from church. She is pragmatic, helped through the practicalities of living free in times of repression by her slave Erila, but also has an emotional side that made me feel connected to the character.
Dunant’s characters live in a version of history that feels entirely genuine, due to the multi-sensory detail that Dunant crafts into her novel. Alessandra is given a strong feeling for colour due to her art and her father’s dyed cloths so her vision of the world is filled with the details of shade around her. Dunant also recreates the sounds, textures and smell of 16th century Florence, the city bell tolls when the head of the Medici family dies, and I can almost hear the sound, see the bell moving, when I remember that point in the novel. The sense of physicality in the descriptions of Florence complements the physical acts, like birth, murder and sex that appear often during the novel.
This novel has scandal, strong women, striking descriptions of artistic technique, religious turmoil and faith, as well as a bit of a love story. Sarah Dunant continues to make me want to buy her books and talk about them to everyone.
With this novel I begin my Dewey’s Books reading, as well as my Art History challenge (love their monthly roundup posts by the way, complete with cover art). Now it’s on with my mini challenge for Dewey’s Books, as I read ‘The Barber of Seville’ to do something different and read a play.
Other Reviews
Stella Matutina
Sarah Dunant has quickly become one of my top five historical novelists after just two books. I read ‘In the Company of the Courtesan’ last year, which was sumptuous and fascinating.
I was expecting nothing less from ‘The Birth of Venus’, which was written before ‘In the Company of Courtesan’. I wasn’t disappointed, Dunant breaths warm life into 16th century Florence, with a multitude of evocative, everyday details. ‘The Birth of Venus’ follows the life of Alessandra a closet artist in a family rising in status thanks to a successful cloth business. All Alessandra wants to do is draw and paint, but her future seems to be the unavoidable future of many women from well-off families; a marriage, made to advance her family’s status. When a painter arrives to decorate her family’s chapel Alessandra begins to yearn for freedom and artistic instruction even more.
Around her Florence is changing, a fanatical monk called Savonarolla controls the pulpit and the French are likely to occupy the city on their way to war. Finding little help from the painter, and wishing to avoid being sent to a convent, where she can be hidden from the advancing French soldiers Alessandra decides to try to take control of her own life by marrying an older man who she hopes will allow her some freedom. However others have subtly influenced Alessandra’s choice of husband, and while she gains freedom through her marriage she finds other things lacking in her life.
Dunant deals with the exotic elements of 16th century Italy, the scandal, the secrets, the warnings of hellfire and the trysts, yet it never feels as if she has manipulated history to sex up the story. Nor does she give her female characters unrealistic freedoms, although as many writers have, she creates characters whose situations would have allowed them the greatest amount of freedom in a restrictive, historical society. Alessandra is the daughter of a wealthy family, with an intelligent and reasonably lenient mother. She marries an intellectual man whose lifestyle means his wife is allowed more freedom than the average woman. Even when she eventually moves to the convent, which is mentioned at the beginning of the book and fills it with a deep sense of foreboding, the timing of her arrival means that convents are much more permissive than they had been. Lucky for Alessandra, and a historically justified way of keeping her free enough to have an interesting life. She still has to face tough opposition in her life, as the new religious order want to keep women inside and away from church. She is pragmatic, helped through the practicalities of living free in times of repression by her slave Erila, but also has an emotional side that made me feel connected to the character.
Dunant’s characters live in a version of history that feels entirely genuine, due to the multi-sensory detail that Dunant crafts into her novel. Alessandra is given a strong feeling for colour due to her art and her father’s dyed cloths so her vision of the world is filled with the details of shade around her. Dunant also recreates the sounds, textures and smell of 16th century Florence, the city bell tolls when the head of the Medici family dies, and I can almost hear the sound, see the bell moving, when I remember that point in the novel. The sense of physicality in the descriptions of Florence complements the physical acts, like birth, murder and sex that appear often during the novel.
This novel has scandal, strong women, striking descriptions of artistic technique, religious turmoil and faith, as well as a bit of a love story. Sarah Dunant continues to make me want to buy her books and talk about them to everyone.
With this novel I begin my Dewey’s Books reading, as well as my Art History challenge (love their monthly roundup posts by the way, complete with cover art). Now it’s on with my mini challenge for Dewey’s Books, as I read ‘The Barber of Seville’ to do something different and read a play.
Other Reviews
Stella Matutina
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