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The Castrato and His Wife
The opera singer Giusto Ferdinando Tenducci was one of the most famous celebrities of the eighteenth century. In collaboration with the English composer Thomas Arne, he popularized Italian opera, translating it for English audiences and making it accessible with his own compositions which he performed in London's pleasure gardens. Mozart and J. C. Bach both composed for him. He was a rock star of his day, with a massive female following. He was also a castrato.Women flocked to his concerts and found him irresistible. His singing pupil, Dorothea Maunsell, a teenage girl from a genteel Irish family, eloped with him. There was a huge scandal; her father persecuted them mercilessly. Tenducci's wife joined him at his concerts, achieving a status as a performer she could never have dreamed of as a respectable girl. She also wrote a sensational account of their love affair, an early example of a teenage novel. Embroiled in debt, the Tenduccis fled to Italy,and the marriage collapsed when she fell in love with another man. There followed a highly publicized and unique marriage annulment case in the London courts. Everything hinged on the status of the marriage; whether the husband was capable of consummation, and what exactly had happened to him as asmall boy in a remote Italian hill village decades before.Ranging from the salons of princes and the grand opera houses of Europe to the remote hill towns of Tuscany, the unconventional love story of the castrato and his wife affords a fascinating insight into the world of opera and the history of sex and marriage in Georgian Britain, while also exploring questions about the meaning of marriage that continue to resonate in our own time.
327 pages, Kindle Edition
First published August 22, 2011
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177 people want to read
About the author
Helen Berry
7 books5 followersHelen Berry is a Reader in Early Modern History at Newcastle University. She is the author of numerous articles on the history of eighteenth-century Britain, and is the co-editor (with Elizabeth Foyster) of The Family in Early Modern England (2007).
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December 24, 2020Fascinating and frustrating, though the frustration is mainly due to the lack of historical records so there’s a lot of “we cannot possibly know…” here. There’s some deft speculation around this that I mostly found plausible (although what the hell do I know) although I could have done with some of the self-consciously modern takes—for example applying a Freudian framework to Tenducci’s relationship with his father. Which…uh? I dunno? I mean, I’d more readily believe his peasant family were sufficiently poor and desperate to mutilate their third son than there was some weird Oedipal thing that led a threatened father to pay someone to hack off bits of his kid’s genitals. But that’s just me.
Anyway, between all the “we cannot possible know”s we find the story of Tenducci, an Italian castrato who rose to fame in the United Kingdom during the mid-Georgian period, and who—rather shockingly—ran away with and married an upper-middle class Irish teenager. Given that the teenager herself (Dorothea Maunsell) wrote an account of her flight and marriage, and it was pretty heavily reported upon, there’s quite a lot of story around this.
Tenducci himself, however, remains disconcertingly vague.
And despite the fact Dorothea eventually left him to marry someone else—having secured an annulment with the help of her family, on account of the fact that, as a castrato, Tenducci wasn’t deemed capable of consummating the marriage--I kind of found myself intrigued by, even rather admiring, of both of them. Tenducci’s relationship to his masculinity, in particular, was deeply fascinating to me—the way he seemed to be deliberately pushing against the usual narratives attached to castrati. For example, he claimed to have consented the procedure with courage (impossible because he was a child, and so his consent could not have been sought) and often boasted of being a superior lover because women need fear no consequences of having sex with him.
I’ve read plenty (and indeed the book goes into some detail about this too) about the way the existence of castrati challenged contemporary notions about sex, gender, identity and masculinity. But—for all he has been mostly lost to history—Tenducci seemed actively engaged in personally embodying such a challenges.
I wish there was more about you, my dude. You seem like an amazing fellow.
(I've shelved this as queerish because while T himself was clearly only down with the ladies, I still got queer feels from this--just because of the politics of sex, gender, body versus identity etc.)
Anyway, between all the “we cannot possible know”s we find the story of Tenducci, an Italian castrato who rose to fame in the United Kingdom during the mid-Georgian period, and who—rather shockingly—ran away with and married an upper-middle class Irish teenager. Given that the teenager herself (Dorothea Maunsell) wrote an account of her flight and marriage, and it was pretty heavily reported upon, there’s quite a lot of story around this.
Tenducci himself, however, remains disconcertingly vague.
And despite the fact Dorothea eventually left him to marry someone else—having secured an annulment with the help of her family, on account of the fact that, as a castrato, Tenducci wasn’t deemed capable of consummating the marriage--I kind of found myself intrigued by, even rather admiring, of both of them. Tenducci’s relationship to his masculinity, in particular, was deeply fascinating to me—the way he seemed to be deliberately pushing against the usual narratives attached to castrati. For example, he claimed to have consented the procedure with courage (impossible because he was a child, and so his consent could not have been sought) and often boasted of being a superior lover because women need fear no consequences of having sex with him.
I’ve read plenty (and indeed the book goes into some detail about this too) about the way the existence of castrati challenged contemporary notions about sex, gender, identity and masculinity. But—for all he has been mostly lost to history—Tenducci seemed actively engaged in personally embodying such a challenges.
I wish there was more about you, my dude. You seem like an amazing fellow.
(I've shelved this as queerish because while T himself was clearly only down with the ladies, I still got queer feels from this--just because of the politics of sex, gender, body versus identity etc.)
May 6, 2015
Barely two stars. I would say this book was a load of bollocks, but it didn't have any.
February 16, 2022
Він - знаменитий оперний співак-кастрат, вона - учениця з поважної англійської англійської родини. Закохались, втекли, обвінчались, скандал величезний, батько ганявся за неочікуваною парою по всій Європі. Через деякий час юна дружина написала роман про їхнє життя, досить жвавий і захопливий (практично young adult), а ще за кілька років шлюб розпався, коли вона закохалася в іншого. Ануляція шлюбу у вісімнадцятому столітті - свято для історика, тому всі фінансові і криваві (в буквальному і переносному розумінні) подробиці з життя обох до нас дійшли. Гарна мікроісторія, хоч на мене трохи розфокусована.
April 6, 2013
This turned out to be an enjoyable read. Calling this book not a biography but a “microhistory,” the author provides a fascinating glimpse of what was “shrouded in secrecy due to the illegal nature of the procedure.”
As I mentioned in my review in ForeWord Magazine, Giusto Tenducci topped the charts back in 1762. With his three-octave range, he was a virtuoso. He also was a castrato.
Apparently his loss was the Baroque era’s gain. The most brilliant castrati were known for their ability to introduce trills supposedly like birdsong and for their powerful, clear soprano voices. Tenducci’s fame went beyond singing, though. He scandalized the opera-going public by taking a wife.
Tenducci had come to England “with the promise of fame and fortune ahead of him.” At the age of twenty-three, he possessed not only the finest singing voice, but also “the ability to attract the devotion of women, and the ire of powerful men.” He was ill-equipped to handle his meteoric celebrity, however, or the school-girl crush of his talented pupil, Dorothea Maunsell, whose family had connections “on the side of the ruling elite.” Needless to say, the Protestant gentry did not look kindly on her elopement with a Catholic eunuch.
Tenducci was born in Italy and turned over to one of the four great musical conservatories in Naples. For a poor boy, this was a remarkable opportunity. It was also a costly one. To preserve “his pure, unbroken voice,” Tenducci “submitted to undergo the Operation with great Courage,” though it took a lifetime to turn him into an opera-star castrato. Ultimately, this story is really about how one man refused to let “biological destiny” keep him from experiencing love and marriage.
As I mentioned in my review in ForeWord Magazine, Giusto Tenducci topped the charts back in 1762. With his three-octave range, he was a virtuoso. He also was a castrato.
Apparently his loss was the Baroque era’s gain. The most brilliant castrati were known for their ability to introduce trills supposedly like birdsong and for their powerful, clear soprano voices. Tenducci’s fame went beyond singing, though. He scandalized the opera-going public by taking a wife.
Tenducci had come to England “with the promise of fame and fortune ahead of him.” At the age of twenty-three, he possessed not only the finest singing voice, but also “the ability to attract the devotion of women, and the ire of powerful men.” He was ill-equipped to handle his meteoric celebrity, however, or the school-girl crush of his talented pupil, Dorothea Maunsell, whose family had connections “on the side of the ruling elite.” Needless to say, the Protestant gentry did not look kindly on her elopement with a Catholic eunuch.
Tenducci was born in Italy and turned over to one of the four great musical conservatories in Naples. For a poor boy, this was a remarkable opportunity. It was also a costly one. To preserve “his pure, unbroken voice,” Tenducci “submitted to undergo the Operation with great Courage,” though it took a lifetime to turn him into an opera-star castrato. Ultimately, this story is really about how one man refused to let “biological destiny” keep him from experiencing love and marriage.
October 7, 2011
Helen Berry's astonishing new portrait of Giusto Ferdinando Tenducci, the celebrated 18th century castrato, and his love affair with a young Irish girl, Dorothea Maunsell.
November 2, 2012
This is a non-fiction work of scholarship. (Around a fifth of the book was notes, bibliography and reference list) The print size was inconveniently small, I thought - some people appear to think that the size of the print bears an inverse relationship to the erudition of the author. It does not. If you are a potential purchaser older than 40 or so, you might be better choosing the hardcover version. It probably has a larger print size.
The subject is of particular interest to me, but this history of Giusto Tenducci is not written to entertain, but to educate. I found the details of the life and opera of the times somewhat tedious. And yet the book is meticulously researched, and a valuable history.
The final chapter, 'Coda,' was a well written analysis of changing attitudes, a very worthy conclusion.
Of value if you're interested in the subject, but if you're not, you could be throwing it aside after the first few chapters.
The subject is of particular interest to me, but this history of Giusto Tenducci is not written to entertain, but to educate. I found the details of the life and opera of the times somewhat tedious. And yet the book is meticulously researched, and a valuable history.
The final chapter, 'Coda,' was a well written analysis of changing attitudes, a very worthy conclusion.
Of value if you're interested in the subject, but if you're not, you could be throwing it aside after the first few chapters.
August 22, 2012
I read this book last spring and it's still on my mind. I was most impressed by Dr Berry's ability to place this once-famous opera singer,Tenducci, in the context of his time period. Absolutely fascinating, especially for people like me who are obsessed with all things eighteenth century.
August 3, 2016
A fascinating and very readable micro-history of the castrato Guisto Ferdinando Tenducci and his elopement with the a young Irish girl from a distinguished family. The book explores the practice in relation to the Catholic church and the paying public and raises many interesting questions. Well written and well researched.
July 5, 2012
This was a very bland reading book. I never got much energy or curiosity about the man, his wife or the struggle. I do not know why. There was much research and it is an unusual situation. But I struggled to finish it and can not say that I am glad that I have read it.
November 8, 2013
A vivid and intriguing true story pulled from historical sources. It's awesome for medieval/Baroque nerds like me... but I'm afraid anyone not immersed in that universe would find it rather dry and not-so-compelling.
March 5, 2012
Interesting subject, and an interesting, focused style; more a broadstroke overview of the social construction that led to this relationship than a personal tale, but it is a fascinating topic.
Want to read
March 17, 2012This appears to be an interesting companion read to Richard Harvell's THE BELLS, the historical novel of a castrato who rose to become a renowned opera singer in the 1700s.
June 6, 2014
An interesting tale very poorly executed. I can't recommend this to either the opera aficionado or the reader interested in 18th century history.
July 26, 2012
Odd. Not a novel, but not really straight history either, since not that much is known about this character. Rather some facts and a lot of supposition. Interesting but totally unengaging.
April 8, 2014
A comprehensive insight into one of the greatest and scandalous vocalists of all time.
June 22, 2017
A fascinating and incredibly readable little book. The author does a great job of placing the main characters in their time.
January 14, 2018
Although this book is described by the author as a “microhistory”, it is crammed with so many unexpected surprises that it almost seems it should be a work of fiction. In
The Castrato and his Wife
[Oxford University Press; 2012], writer and historian Helen Berry shares the incredible story of opera star, Giusto Ferdinando Tenducci, and his teen-aged singing student, Dorothea Maunsell. Although Tenducci is nearly unknown today, he was an international musical superstar, his fame rivalling that of Elvis, the Beatles, Elton John and Britney Spears. The son of a poor Italian servant, Tenducci lived a rags-to-riches story at a time when social mobility was even more difficult than it is today; he travelled eighteenth-century Europe, sang music that J. C. Bach and Mozart composed especially for him, performed for royalty and for wealthy patrons and popularised Italian opera along the way. Surprisingly for those sexually repressed times, Tenducci also developed a massive following of female admirers.
Dorothea Maunsell was born into a wealthy Irish family and she had an extraordinary singing voice, so exquisite that her father hired Tenducci to be his teenaged daughter’s singing teacher. But women were rarely allowed to perform in public, so Dorothea’s dedication to voice lessons seemed rather a waste since she had no real future as a singer or as anything else, except as a wife and mother. But the opera star and his student spent a lot of time together, and became very fond of each other. Since Tenducci was a castrato, a man whose very humanity was sometimes questioned, their close relationship did not raise eyebrows. But when Dorothea’s control-freak father arranged a marriage for her with a man she did not at all like, she acted on the one option that was open to her: she eloped with her teacher.
Predictably, all hell broke loose. Dorothea’s father, a lawyer, claimed Tenducci kidnapped his precious daughter and was holding her prisoner in another country. Indeed, Dorothea and her husband did flee Ireland to escape her father, then they fled England to escape Tenducci’s debts (and debtor’s prison). They fled to Italy, where they were well-received. In Italy, Dorothea sometimes accompanied her husband as a performer onstage, and occasionally replaced him when he was traveling — a dream come true for her, it would seem.
Throughout all this drama, Dorothea wrote and published what is probably one of the first ever teenage novels describing her love affair with Tenducci. Yet at the same time, Dorothea fell in love with another man. Her marriage failed. Tenducci was heartbroken, but Dorothea was practical. She even sought her father’s help in dissolving the marriage so she could marry her new lover.
A highly publicised battle ensued in the London courts where the marriage was finally annulled. The argument centred on Tenducci’s state of being a castrato, since he could not possibly consummate the marriage and father children.
I was saddened to learn that the eighteenth-century equivalent of today’s musical superstars can be so completely forgotten that only a handful of people alive today even recognise his name. I also was sad to realise that amongst the women of her day, Dorothea was one of the very few lucky ones because she was not completely invisible whilst she was alive.
The Castrato and his wife is a readable book that relies on scholarly detective work and strong narrative to tell this tragic tale. It presents fascinating insight into the world of opera, the Catholic church, and into the nature of sex and marriage in Georgian Britain. Further, the author explores questions about the meaning of marriage that resonate to this very day.
If you enjoy European history or if you are an opera fan, or if you enjoy reading strange-but-true stories, there is much in this compelling book that will appeal to you.
NOTE: Originally published at The Guardian on 26 September 2012.
Dorothea Maunsell was born into a wealthy Irish family and she had an extraordinary singing voice, so exquisite that her father hired Tenducci to be his teenaged daughter’s singing teacher. But women were rarely allowed to perform in public, so Dorothea’s dedication to voice lessons seemed rather a waste since she had no real future as a singer or as anything else, except as a wife and mother. But the opera star and his student spent a lot of time together, and became very fond of each other. Since Tenducci was a castrato, a man whose very humanity was sometimes questioned, their close relationship did not raise eyebrows. But when Dorothea’s control-freak father arranged a marriage for her with a man she did not at all like, she acted on the one option that was open to her: she eloped with her teacher.
Predictably, all hell broke loose. Dorothea’s father, a lawyer, claimed Tenducci kidnapped his precious daughter and was holding her prisoner in another country. Indeed, Dorothea and her husband did flee Ireland to escape her father, then they fled England to escape Tenducci’s debts (and debtor’s prison). They fled to Italy, where they were well-received. In Italy, Dorothea sometimes accompanied her husband as a performer onstage, and occasionally replaced him when he was traveling — a dream come true for her, it would seem.
Throughout all this drama, Dorothea wrote and published what is probably one of the first ever teenage novels describing her love affair with Tenducci. Yet at the same time, Dorothea fell in love with another man. Her marriage failed. Tenducci was heartbroken, but Dorothea was practical. She even sought her father’s help in dissolving the marriage so she could marry her new lover.
A highly publicised battle ensued in the London courts where the marriage was finally annulled. The argument centred on Tenducci’s state of being a castrato, since he could not possibly consummate the marriage and father children.
I was saddened to learn that the eighteenth-century equivalent of today’s musical superstars can be so completely forgotten that only a handful of people alive today even recognise his name. I also was sad to realise that amongst the women of her day, Dorothea was one of the very few lucky ones because she was not completely invisible whilst she was alive.
The Castrato and his wife is a readable book that relies on scholarly detective work and strong narrative to tell this tragic tale. It presents fascinating insight into the world of opera, the Catholic church, and into the nature of sex and marriage in Georgian Britain. Further, the author explores questions about the meaning of marriage that resonate to this very day.
If you enjoy European history or if you are an opera fan, or if you enjoy reading strange-but-true stories, there is much in this compelling book that will appeal to you.
NOTE: Originally published at The Guardian on 26 September 2012.
April 16, 2021
A fascinating factual account of Tenducci and his bride, Dorothea Maunsell, this is not only a great insight to the life of a castrato and those responsible for the mutilation of young boys (unsurprisingly, in part the church), but a peek into the influence of opera on London and the lives of women back in the 1700s. Perhaps most amazing is the rebellious and staunch Dorothea during a time when a modern audience might expect a woman of that age to cower in fear. History may look at her two ways, either conniving or resourceful, the lengths women needed to go to in order to have any control of their lives, being the property of a man, either that of their fathers or husbands. It also throws a light on society of the time, revealing an inclination to live above one’s means even with the threat of debtor’s prison. Well, written and engaging, there are many reasons to read this book.
August 7, 2019
This is an account of a fascinating life, and was of particular interest to me as the elopement of Tenducci with Dorothea Maunsell took place here in Cork in 1766, when he was performing at the city's Theatre Royal. As well as drawing on Dorothea's own published account of her marriage to the castrato singer, Berry is able to quote from the London Consistory Court records, including a statement from Tenducci's landlady in Cork, thereby giving voice to a portion of 18th century Irish society which is little documented.
August 17, 2019
Fascinating and horrifying.
March 6, 2014
BBC blurb - Helen Berry's astonishing new portrait of Giusto Ferdinando Tenducci, the celebrated 18th century castrato, and his love affair with a young Irish girl, Dorothea Maunsell.
Read by Greta Scacchi Abridged by Viv Beeby Produced by Emma Harding
'The Castrato and His Wife' is published by Oxford University Press.
Amazon sourced blurb - The opera singer Giusto Ferdinando Tenducci was one of the most famous celebrities of the eighteenth century. In collaboration with the English composer Thomas Arne, he popularized Italian opera, translating it for English audiences and making it accessible with his own compositions which he performed in London's pleasure gardens. Mozart and J. C. Bach both composed for him. He was a rock star of his day, with a massive female following. He was also a castrato. Women flocked to his concerts and found him irresistible. His singing pupil, Dorothea Maunsell, a teenage girl from a genteel Irish family, eloped with him. There was a huge scandal; her father persecuted them mercilessly. Tenducci's wife joined him at his concerts, achieving a status as a performer she could never have dreamed of as a respectable girl. She also wrote a sensational account of their love affair, an early example of a teenage novel. Embroiled in debt, the Tenduccis fled to Italy, and the marriage collapsed when she fell in love with another man. There followed a highly publicized and unique marriage annulment case in the London courts. Everything hinged on the status of the marriage; whether the husband was capable of consummation, and what exactly had happened to him as a small boy in a remote Italian hill village decades before. Ranging from the salons of princes and the grand opera houses of Europe to the remote hill towns of Tuscany, the unconventional love story of the castrato and his wife affords a fascinating insight into the world of opera and the history of sex and marriage in Georgian Britain, while also exploring questions about the meaning of marriage that continue to resonate in our own time.
Read by Greta Scacchi Abridged by Viv Beeby Produced by Emma Harding
'The Castrato and His Wife' is published by Oxford University Press.
Amazon sourced blurb - The opera singer Giusto Ferdinando Tenducci was one of the most famous celebrities of the eighteenth century. In collaboration with the English composer Thomas Arne, he popularized Italian opera, translating it for English audiences and making it accessible with his own compositions which he performed in London's pleasure gardens. Mozart and J. C. Bach both composed for him. He was a rock star of his day, with a massive female following. He was also a castrato. Women flocked to his concerts and found him irresistible. His singing pupil, Dorothea Maunsell, a teenage girl from a genteel Irish family, eloped with him. There was a huge scandal; her father persecuted them mercilessly. Tenducci's wife joined him at his concerts, achieving a status as a performer she could never have dreamed of as a respectable girl. She also wrote a sensational account of their love affair, an early example of a teenage novel. Embroiled in debt, the Tenduccis fled to Italy, and the marriage collapsed when she fell in love with another man. There followed a highly publicized and unique marriage annulment case in the London courts. Everything hinged on the status of the marriage; whether the husband was capable of consummation, and what exactly had happened to him as a small boy in a remote Italian hill village decades before. Ranging from the salons of princes and the grand opera houses of Europe to the remote hill towns of Tuscany, the unconventional love story of the castrato and his wife affords a fascinating insight into the world of opera and the history of sex and marriage in Georgian Britain, while also exploring questions about the meaning of marriage that continue to resonate in our own time.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
January 17, 2012
This is the true story of Italian opera singer Giusto Ferdinando Tenducci, who was born into a poor family in the Tuscan village of Monte San Savino, and who then went on to become one of the most famous celebrities of the eighteenth century. From quite early in his career Tenducci was besieged by women who flocked to his concerts, and he had all the main composers of the day vying for his favour. However, it was his marriage to his pupil, Dorothea Maunsell, a teenage girl from a good Irish family, that would be the catalyst which boosted his career into the public stratosphere. When the marriage eventually broke down, the subsequent court case to have the marriage annulled proved to be sensational and damaging.
It's an unconventional love story, and all the more intriguing because it's true...
Helen Berry, a noted historian has written an accomplished account of Tenducci's life. The book is easier to read than you would imagine, and has a very generous reference section, which I must admit to not really reading much of......but, it's there for those who like that kind of thing...
I love the glimpse of picture from the front cover - it's from The Singer Farinelli and Friends by Jacopo Amigoni c 1750-1752
It's an unconventional love story, and all the more intriguing because it's true...
Helen Berry, a noted historian has written an accomplished account of Tenducci's life. The book is easier to read than you would imagine, and has a very generous reference section, which I must admit to not really reading much of......but, it's there for those who like that kind of thing...
I love the glimpse of picture from the front cover - it's from The Singer Farinelli and Friends by Jacopo Amigoni c 1750-1752
February 15, 2015
Full of speculations that begin "We cannot know...", this "history" really has little to offer except the record of annulment proceedings intended to prove that the subject was, in fact, a castrato. The rest of the narrative is constructed out of a few newspaper accounts and some data about the popularity of castrati at the time. What everyone really wants to know are the intimate details of the love affair between a young gentlewoman and her "lover". But, of course, these "we cannot possibly know."
November 15, 2012
Disturbing practice. Even angels have their scandals.
May 10, 2013
Italy must have been at the to of the scandal list in the 16&17 hundreds. also read Nuns Behaving Badley by Craig Monson.
August 8, 2013
Ms. Berry uses the case study approach to elucidate family history and gender relations in the 18th century. Interesting book.
August 31, 2014
Please visit my blog to read my review:
http://theidlewoman.blogspot.co.uk/20...
http://theidlewoman.blogspot.co.uk/20...
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