Do I have a quasi-fetishistic thing for books published by Taschen? Yes. But even with that bias, listen up, because this book is *stellar.* I don't even have to time to talk about the gorgeous full page detail views of Caravaggio masterpieces, because I hadn't known much about the artist's biography before now.
So you've got this hotshot genius from the provinces who makes a name for himself with secular, homoerotic paintings of beautiful boys. He gets to travel to the Rome–the center of art, the center of Christendom, hell, the center of the world as he probably sees it–and takes the city by storm. He is producing paintings like nobody's ever seen, but his vision is so radical that when he gets hired to do large scale religious installations, he takes things in a quasi-blasphemous direction and gets in trouble with the authorities. He also gets into trouble with the secular authorities because he lives a life of debauchery and hedonism and has a just barely high enough station that he's allowed to carry a sword. Then, at the height of his fame, he kills a man and has to flee from Rome. For years he toils in the provinces again, always striving to clear his name. He paints portraits of some influential men who seek a pardon on his behalf. Then a hitman, probably sent by the family of the man he killed, disfigures his face with a blade. After that, Caravaggio's work becomes less saturated and more spiritual. His religious works are less blasphemous, and more focused on pain, suffering, the ecstasy of a martyr. After four years of exile, Caravaggio receives his pardon. In his first known self-portrait, he had painted himself as Bacchus. After this pardon, he gives us his final self portrait: a David and Goliath, except he doesn't paint himself as the bright, victorious youth, but as the severed head of Goliath. Caravaggio starts his travels back toward Rome. After years of striving, he can finally return to the Eternal City. He's still a youngish man, he can win back what he's lost. Then he is accidentally arrested, and although he gets out of jail soon enough, he catches something in there. Tragically, anticlimactically, he dies of a fever before he can return to Rome, not even 40.
And also did I mention that we have no contemporary biographies of him, no surviving letters or diaries, no first hand accounts from people who knew him personally. The man is a blank. That biographical sketch above *is virtually all that we have.* Oh but imagine if a talented storyteller stepped into that void. Imagine what kind of a story they could tell: about art, about hedonism, about destructive genius and pride that goeth before the fall. (And also if we're trying to market this thing to a 21st century audience, comeon, you know Caravaggio was having as much as sex as a Game of Thrones character, with guys and girls both.) Can Hilary Mantel please make this for me? Can Luchino Visconti please make this for me? ANYBODY. I just really need a historical fiction treatment of Caravaggio: novel or biopic, I'm not picky.