Lucrezia Borgia and the Mother of Poisons by Roberta Gellis
Note: Spoilers for the general history of Lucrezia Borgia’s life. If history counts as a spoiler.
Set in 1602, the early days of Lucrezia Borgia’s third marriage (Does anyone else tend to forget that both her second and third husbands were named Alfonso?) this is nominally a mystery in which Lucrezia attempts to solve the murder of one of her attendant ladies, but is more about that period of Lucrezia’s life, and her marriage. Her husband, Alfonso d’Este, accuses her of murdering the dead woman out of jealousy, claiming the victim was his mistress, but Lucrezia doesn’t believe him, knowing that he accused her to cause a distraction from something else, and that nothing would happen to her even if she committed murder in public, as no one wants to make Cesare Borgia come visiting with an army.
Gellis largely avoids the issue of whether or not Lucrezia was an active participant in Cesare’s schemes, or if she had an incestuous relationship with Cesare or their father. She’s primarily portrayed as wanting to escape the rumors and schemes of the court and live a quiet life, and her current feelings for Cesare are colored by his recently having had Alfonso of Aragon, the husband she supposedly loved, killed. Lucrezia’s relationship with Alfonso d’Este is civil, with the possibility of respect, and you can sometimes see Gellis literally stopping herself from making it more romantic than it’s supposed to be.
More attention, however, is given to Lucrezia’s relationships with her ladies, as well as her attempts to establish her own power and autonomy from Cesare, and to claim respect in her own right. It was a rather pleasant surprise to realize that at least half the scenes were between Lucrezia and her ladies, both friendly and antagonistic. Men are discussed, but largely in the context of what secrets they may be keeping, or what role they may have played in the murder. In addition, they’re almost all women who are fond of, and open about, sex, and all without being vilified or cast as slutty for it.
Based of the cover blurb, I was worried that the book would teeter on, if not cross over into, “Poor Lucrezia! Everyone is mean! No one understands!” but it never does. Lucrezia is portrayed as sympathetic, and there are a few moments that stray a bit close to “Woes! Persecution!,” but she’s also vain and privileged, while still being clever and confident. I wish, though, that I could get a clearer idea of Gellis’s views on the scandals surrounding Lucrezia.
There’s a bit at the end that makes me twitch as it hints at future mysteries starring Lucrezia-this makes for an excellent standalone, and the mystery works for the plot, but I don’t think it would work as a continuing thing at all-but there don’t seem to be any sequels.
Set in 1602, the early days of Lucrezia Borgia’s third marriage (Does anyone else tend to forget that both her second and third husbands were named Alfonso?) this is nominally a mystery in which Lucrezia attempts to solve the murder of one of her attendant ladies, but is more about that period of Lucrezia’s life, and her marriage. Her husband, Alfonso d’Este, accuses her of murdering the dead woman out of jealousy, claiming the victim was his mistress, but Lucrezia doesn’t believe him, knowing that he accused her to cause a distraction from something else, and that nothing would happen to her even if she committed murder in public, as no one wants to make Cesare Borgia come visiting with an army.
Gellis largely avoids the issue of whether or not Lucrezia was an active participant in Cesare’s schemes, or if she had an incestuous relationship with Cesare or their father. She’s primarily portrayed as wanting to escape the rumors and schemes of the court and live a quiet life, and her current feelings for Cesare are colored by his recently having had Alfonso of Aragon, the husband she supposedly loved, killed. Lucrezia’s relationship with Alfonso d’Este is civil, with the possibility of respect, and you can sometimes see Gellis literally stopping herself from making it more romantic than it’s supposed to be.
More attention, however, is given to Lucrezia’s relationships with her ladies, as well as her attempts to establish her own power and autonomy from Cesare, and to claim respect in her own right. It was a rather pleasant surprise to realize that at least half the scenes were between Lucrezia and her ladies, both friendly and antagonistic. Men are discussed, but largely in the context of what secrets they may be keeping, or what role they may have played in the murder. In addition, they’re almost all women who are fond of, and open about, sex, and all without being vilified or cast as slutty for it.
Based of the cover blurb, I was worried that the book would teeter on, if not cross over into, “Poor Lucrezia! Everyone is mean! No one understands!” but it never does. Lucrezia is portrayed as sympathetic, and there are a few moments that stray a bit close to “Woes! Persecution!,” but she’s also vain and privileged, while still being clever and confident. I wish, though, that I could get a clearer idea of Gellis’s views on the scandals surrounding Lucrezia.
There’s a bit at the end that makes me twitch as it hints at future mysteries starring Lucrezia-this makes for an excellent standalone, and the mystery works for the plot, but I don’t think it would work as a continuing thing at all-but there don’t seem to be any sequels.