The name of Bernini is one that all fans of Baroque sculpture instantly recognise because of the beauty and importance of his work. Gian Lorenzo Bernini, born in 1598 and died in 1681, is known for such works as The Rape of Proserpina (1621-22), the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa (1647-52), David (1623-24), among many others. His works are known for being highly expressive, dynamic, and passionate. Even his self-portraits convey an intensity that shone through his work:
Gian Lorenzo Bernini: Self Portrait of Gianlorenzo Bernini as young man (1623)
With his immensely talented way of crafting seemingly soft flesh out of hard marble, and the sheer amount of his work, the love many of us have for his beautiful creations is strong. That said, his personal life lets him down, especially when it comes to a woman many of us never even heard of: Costanza Piccolomini.
In this gripping novel, Rachel Blackmore, brings Costanza’s story to life. I was fortunate to have been given an ARC of this novel for review, and all views expressed in this post are my own. The cover is gorgeous and vibrant:
A physically stunning woman, the quiet life Costanza thought she’d have changes dramatically when her husband begins to work with the renowned and famous sculptor, Lorenzo Bernini. Lorenzo and Costanza have an immediate pull towards each other. What ensues is friendship followed by tender love, passion, and obsession turning what was beautiful into something dark, violent, and destructive (especially with the character of Luigi Bernini, Lorenzo’s younger brother, who is a nasty, envious brute of a man). There is another character, of whom I was suspicious, who did end up being another surprisingly malevolent antagonist.
Blackmore’s novel is slow-burning at first, setting the scene for what is to come. By the middle of the book, I was wholly engrossed, often staying up late to read just one more chapter (book lovers understand this compulsion). Such is Blackmore’s skill, the world of 1630s Rome was brought to life: with the sights, the sounds, and the colours of that world vividly described. I felt like I was walking alongside the illicit lovers in the streets of 17th-century Rome, in the room with them in a villa looking at a painted ceiling full of story and wonder.
Although this may sound like a spoiler, it isn’t, as Costanza is subjected to facial disfigurement by having her face slashed with a razor on her lover’s orders. This actually happened in real life, and Blackmore sensually and powerfully crafts the story leading up to that violence and when it comes, it is shocking – how could a man so in love with someone cause them such harm? But, of course, we have plenty of examples of such violence throughout history.
As the book neared the end, and Costanza’s story became ever bleaker, I felt that an overtly modern Feminist tone came into the writing, particularly in the dialogue, which I found anachronistic for the seventeenth-century women involved and the culture and time in which they lived. Blackmore does make a sound point, however, in the Author’s Note at the end of the book, in that 81,000 women and girls were killed in 2020 alone, and that women even today are disfigured in violent attacks such as with acid thrown in their faces, the cutting off of noses, and more.
Nonetheless, in general, I loved the book and was very eager to see what would happen next. I found Blackmore’s writing to be readable, exciting, and alluring.
This book altered my view of Bernini, as I suspected it might when I read the blurb. I will always be a fan of his many works and his style, but Bernini as a man has been tarnished – not only by reading this novel but by my subsequent reading of nonfiction about him, inspired by this book.
I don’t look upon Costanza’s story as one of utter tragedy. According to what we know, she survived this terrible ordeal and became an art dealer. She found the strength to keep going and make the most of the rest of her life.
We are left with this stunning bust of Costanza Piccolomini, her beauty immortalised, carved with love by Bernini at the height of his passion for her, a beauty that was then destroyed by his command.
Bust of Costanza Bonarelli by Gian Lorenzo Bernini at Museo del Bargello. Photo: Yair Haklai, CC BY-SA 4.0.
