I’ve always felt I should read Jean Plaidy’s books. She’s ubiquitous in the historical fiction sections of bookshops and libraries, and she writes about periods that I find interesting. It was only a matter of time. Last winter, I went slightly wild at the Book Barn and came away with a pile of her novels, which I’m only now starting to tackle. I chose to begin with the first of her two novels about Lucrezia Borgia, which may have been a mistake, as it hasn’t done much to win me over. Over-seasoned, two-dimensional and extremely dated, it feels like stepping back in time for all the wrong reasons...

For the full review, please see my blog:
https://theidlewoman.net/2017/11/21/madonna-of-the-seven-hills-jean-plaidy/ ( )

I got this and the sequel as a bargain ebook, but I'm not that thrilled with the writing or the story. There is something flat and one-dimensional about the characters. Also knowing the basic history takes the element of surprise out of the plot. This might have been a classic of its time, but it feels dated to me. I will give Plaidy credit for being one of the first people to show Lucrezia Borgia as more of a victim of her warped family than the vicious poisoner of her mythic persona. She did her homework. ( )

This is the first Jean Plaidy book I've ever read that did not concern itself with a Queen of England. I was expecting the reading of it to be a stranger experience.

But Jean Plaidy is always Jean Plaidy, writing as if she's telling a fairy tale but not sparing us any of the unsavory or unpleasant details. So of course she had to take on the infamous Lucrezia Borgia.

I've noticed a tendency, in Plaidy, to build the tale around the most popular anecdote about her subject known at the time, whether it's truth or folklore. Thus, for instance, The Follies of the King is one long argument/justification for the infamous (and possibly fanciful) murder, at the behest of his long-suffering wife, of Edward III by means of a red hot poker. And thus this first of two books Plaidy wrote about Lucrezia and the rest of the Borgia family is just a giant bit of foreshadowing for the legendary fratricide of Lucrezia's brother Juan/Giovanni by her other brother Cesare.

Thus even as it tells the story of Lucrezia's father's elevation from Cardinal Roderigo Borgia to Pope Alexander III despite being the father of three and possibly four illegitimate children by a courtesan, which is a tale quite worthy of a novel in its own right, Madonna of the Seven Hills focuses on perhaps the most famous case of sibling rivalry gone wild since Cain and Abel, except this time, instead of God's favor, the brothers are dueling for that of their own sister and father.*

Some later writers (Madonna of the Seven Hills was first published in 1958) might have gone all out for the scandalous, salacious incest plot, but Plaidy, as always, was more interested in who Lucrezia really was and why she would accept and even embrace a situation that most modern women would find intolerable. From the first pages, we see Lucrezia as a girl born to a bizarre station in life (tartly observing at one point to her friend Giulia Farnese [who has also by that point taken over Lucrezia's mother's job as the pope's mistress] that accepting bribes and telling her father all about them is her job) but who never knew anything else; the only daughter of a family of vain, proud, selfish and violently passionate pseudo-aristocrats who can't afford not to stick together however much they have gotten sick of each other.

So of course Plaidy's Lucrezia** grows up to be a pathological people pleaser. She is rich and powerful and beautiful and educated, but despite these advantages her self-worth is bound up only in how her father and brothers react to her; if they are adoring her, they are not fighting each other, or killing people, or starting wars or seduce-raping innocent girls (or boys) -- so it's very important that they keep on adoring her, even if it means keeping them trapped as rivals for her attention and affection. Whether or not she had a sexual relationship with any of them is quite beside the point, for Plaidy; if she did, it was just another symptom. Plaidy is more interested in how the rumors got started than if they were true.

As I said, though, all of this is just foreshadowing for the culmination of the big and legendary hatred between Cesare and Giovanni***, the two brothers who have only ever been friends when they were teaming up against an outsider whom they perceived as a threat to the family (usually a husband or lover or would-be lover of Lucrezia's). It's a tricky thing Plaidy has done here, making us sympathize for their prize even as our author so obviously taps her foot impatiently waiting for the Big Showdown. Lucrezia gets humanized only to be turned into a thing, a prize, anyway.

Which is to say that in Madonna of the Seven Hills, Plaidy may have achieved her greatest degree of verisimilitude, of art imitating life almost painfully perfectly, of all.

But that's not quite what we turn to historical fiction/romance for, is it?

*Alexander VI was an infamously indulgent and doting father, but even so, imposed his will on his children somewhat mercilessly. Giovanni, his favorite, he chose to be the soldier and the secular nobleman, blind to the fact that Giovanni was about as much a soldier as, as, well, as Cesare was a clergyman. And, famously, Cesare was the one who got trained up in the priesthood and made a Cardinal by age 18. Of course, had this not happened, Niccolo Macchiavelli wouldn't have had his model for The Prince, because Cesare wouldn't have had to become the consummate schemer he was, etc.

**And possibly the historical Lucrezia, too.

***Peculiarly, the actual murder is dealt with offstage, which feels like a bit of a cheat after all of the build-up, but again, is the sort of anti-climactic "truth" writers like Plaidy most like to highlight, even at the expense of causing the last third or so of the novel to fall flat. ( )

Women of powerful families rarely have a say in their destinies, and Lucrezia Borgia is no exception. The only daughter born to Roderigo Borgia, later known as Pope Alexander VI, her life is not really her own. She is showered with love and affection from her brothers and father, and lives a rich life most envy. But soon Lucrezia's innocence is lost as her eyes are slowly opened to the way life will be. Married young to a man who will bring alliances and more power to her family, she only starts to fully understand her role when she must go with her husband to his home to escape the dangers of Rome. Alexander is a powerful man, but he knows when the tides turn against him, and he sends his children away so they will be safe until the storms blow over. Alexander soon begins to grow irritated with his daughter's husband, and as he starts to plot how to get rid of his son-in-law, Lucrezia takes refuge in a convent to have peace while she considers her life. At the convent, she finds love, but her hopes of having her own quiet life are crushed when her father finds out what has happened. Full of court intrigue, family conflict, and the mysterious power of rich families, this first book of the Borgias got me interested in this ancient family. Plaidy's writing is rich and the details of the time period drew me into the story. The Borgias are a very interesting family this is the first book I have read about them, and I am looking forward to reading the next in this series. ( )

The novel opens just before Lucrezia’s birth in 1480 and continues through to 1498. The core of the story is her relationship with her father and two of her brothers, and of those brothers’ mutual hate of each other. Yet they both love Lucrezia to an unnatural extent, competing for her affection from the day she’s born.

Must admit, I had no prior knowledge whatsoever about the Borgias, nor am I familiar with Italian history.

I decided to read this partly because I’d heard/read references to the Borgia family and Lucrezia over the past few months, and partly because I enjoyed Jean Plaidy’s Isabella and Ferdinand trilogy.

This book, however, did not prove as engaging as any novel in the aforementioned trilogy. At times I was losing concentration, owing to the lack of action. This tended to happen during long narrative passages, in which the author is telling the reader this, that, or the other in non-exciting terms.

When the focus is on character interaction the novel comes to life. Otherwise there are sections that feel like they are lacking something in some way.

The characterization is very good, as is the imagery.

About halfway into the book the reader is introduced to Sanchia. This promiscuous beauty adds a little spice to the tale.

Lucrezia’s volatile brother Cesare is a well-drawn character. He and his charismatic father, Pope Alexander VI, are two of the strongest characters in the book.

Overall this book is worth reading despite being a little flat or slow paced at times. ( )