Rome, 1492. Young Carmelina Mangano has fled Venice for the Holy City with nothing but her clothes and a sacred relic in her possession, hoping to be taken in by her cousin, Marco Santini, who was once her father's apprentice. Carmelina, too, learnt the skill and craft of fine cooking in her father's kitchen, though as a woman she could never have hoped to make a living from it, only a reasonable marriage. Her cousin is the head chef for a grand lady, Madonna Adriana, who has organised a wedding between her young son, Orsino Orsini, and eighteen-year-old Giulia Farnese, one of the most beautiful girls anyone has ever seen, with golden hair almost down to her toes.
The wedding is being held at the opulent home of Cardinal Borgia, Madonna Adriana's cousin, and Maestro Santini and his cooks have taken over the large kitchens to prepare an amazing feast. Only, when Carmelina arrives, her cousin is nowhere to be found and the kitchen is in chaos. Knowing Marco's addiction to gambling and that he probably won't be back in time to do his job, and knowing that if she can step in and save the day it will increase her chances of getting him to take her in, out of gratitude for saving his job if nothing else, Carmelina takes over and puts together an impressive feast, aided by the recipes she stole from her father before she left Venice.
Upstairs, sweet but slightly vain Giulia is delighted to see that her new husband isn't old and fat like the men so many of her friends and even her sister were married off to, but young and handsome. Unfortunately, she soon learns that the marriage is a sham. It's soul purpose is to put Giulia in the position of accepting Cardinal Borgia's overtures, he who saw her in church and has wanted her ever since.
With the current Pope on his deathbed and the ruthless political manoeuvring amongst the upper clergy in full swing, Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia, one of the most powerful men and certainly one of the wealthiest, is tipped to be the successor. And because he's a Borgia, he doesn't care about hiding his mistress or using his position to elevate his young sons, cold, calculating eighteen-year-old Cesare and lecherous sixteen-year-old Juan, his father's favourite. But because he's a Borgia, he gives Cesare the task of finding a man to protect his mistress and his young daughter, twelve-year-old Lucrezia. Cesare finds just the right bodyguard in the most unlikeliest of places: a dwarf called Leonello who tracked the killers of a friend of his to the Borgia residence and is about to kill a man when Cesare captures him and offers him a deal that he can hardly refuse. After all, everyone overlooks a dwarf, and with his knife skills he's perfectly placed to ensure Giulia and Lucrezia's safety.
Carmelina, Giulia and Leonello find that to survive in the world of power-hungry, corrupt Rome they will need each other, and every trick they know.
This is my first time reading a Kate Quinn novel, and I must say I'm very impressed. Even though I studied (and have a degree in) European history (from the 1100s to the start of WWI), I really can't remember much about this period of history, the Renaissance, or the Borgias, as famous a family as it is, so it was a delight to delve into their world in such depth and detail and with such a fine balance between entertainment, historical accuracy and sheer excitement.
The story is told from the alternating first-person perspectives of Carmelina, Leonello and Giulia, three very different people from very different backgrounds. I grew fond of each of them and found that, flaws and all, I came to really like them and sympathise with them. Carmelina is described as tall, thin and plain, and her temperament is prickly at best. She takes an instant dislike to Leonello, mostly because he is skilled at sniffing out lies and secrets and sees straight away that she's hiding some biggies - and likes to tease and provoke her with his guesses and innuendoes.
Giulia is, initially, a bit spoiled and naïve and silly, but once she become Rodrigo Borgio's mistress - and she doesn't really have much choice, though she does go to him willingly and enjoys it - she puts her training as a noblewoman to good use and learns how to embrace her title of Giulia le Belle or The Bride of Christ, just two of her nicknames. She is derided by her own family who then turn to her for favours, and the women of Rome scorn her even as they ape her fashions. She has power and the ear - and more - of the Pope, but no real friends, except perhaps Carmelina and Leonello. An unpaid servant and a bodyguard with a sharp-witted tongue? But in a place where no one can be trusted, Giulia takes loyalty and honest opinion where she can find it, and matures into a strong-willed, brave woman who juggles her current position with her more humble dreams for an honest life with her real husband.
Leonello is a direct contrast - indeed, all three lead characters are vastly different and present their own unique, specific perspectives to the story - and a character you will most definitely enjoy reading. He's a very interesting character, just as flawed as the two women and with his own agenda. He puts his search for his friend Anna's brutal murder to the side and takes his job of protecting Giulia seriously - he would never admit it but you can tell he genuinely likes her.
Perhaps it was being introduced to a dwarf, and perhaps it's the style of writing and the story itself, but The Serpent and the Pearl put me in mind of certain Fantasy stories, or a style of Fantasy writing, except that this one isn't fantasy and is based on our own historical records. But it reads like a fantasy novel, in the vein of Jennifer Fallon for example - she came to mind first and foremost because of her Hythrun trilogy (Wolfblade etc.), which also featured a wily, clever dwarf with a smart mouth. Quinn writes Leonello with great understanding and compassion and more than a little pride, and he was one of my favourite characters.
With Carmelina's nose for the scents of Rome and good food and her inventive dishes, and her perspective from the servant's areas, the underbelly of what makes a great city tick is revealed in rich detail. Leonello too provides insight into the seedier, more criminal side of living in Rome, while Giulia necessarily adds the pomp and shine to the façade. Between them, life in Rome and beyond from 1492 to 1494 comes vividly, realistically to life. There's an atmosphere of tension and danger, a hint of unpredictability that raises the stakes, and the kind of fear that goes with secrets and corruption. Yet the story isn't all gloomy or dark. There's beauty too, and the kind of gorgeousness great wealth can provide. With Giulia's silver tongue and Leonello's sharp-witted banter, Quinn provides intelligent conversation and exciting dialogue. Politics and political machinations are woven in, as is the threat of war from France over the territory of Naples, and always at the helm, like a big power-hungry spider holding multiple threads, rests the Pope, controlling it all, granting favours and benedictions or removing titles and wealth. Giulia's troubled yearnings for the life she had dreamed of - to be an honest wife, a loving mother, and all that that entails - finally clash with the Pope's furious will, and something will have to give.
The ending took me somewhat by surprise, mostly because it is a cliffhanger ending and I was so caught up in what was happening that when it suddenly ended, it was like having the chair yanked out from under you. Really, The Serpent and the Pearl mostly introduces us to the key characters, puts the pieces into motion and provides the context and background. The story continues in The Lion and the Rose, which I can imagine is when the story really gets going! Even so, The Serpent and the Pearl is an exciting read, successfully combining historical authenticity and realism with interesting, flawed and sympathetic characters and a gripping story that doesn't sacrifice character development to plot. A fine achievement!
My thanks to the publisher for a copy of this book.