St. Martin's Press, 2011; 380 pages $16.99
If you’re not a picky reader you’ll find The
Daughter of Siena a page-turner. But, alas, for readers like me, a little
knowledge is a dangerous thing, and when it comes to reading fiction, it’s also
a distracting thing.
Although the story of The Daughter of Siena rings with intrigue, with a love readers recognize as destined to unfold in spite of horrible happenings to our heroine, a few details distract.
New born babies for instance. The author of The
Daughter of Siena, Marina Fiorato has her Medici royalty, the otherwise very
interesting and historically correct Violante de Medici pouring motherʼs milk into the mouths of her
newborn twin boys. Distraction!
Newborn babies do not suckle on nipples ready
to spill mommaʼs
milk. That takes three days, as colostrums, a thin white substance filled to
overflowing with immune-building stuff drips out first. Yes, drips. Often new
parents have to express the colostrums into a spoon and then drip it from a
syringe into the tiny babyʼs
open mouth. Bliss for baby!
Never mind. Letʼs enter the world of Siena in the early
sixteenth century and keep turning pages. Until that is Fiorato does it again.
This time it’s horses. My family raised horses. Iʼve been around horses most of my life. They do
not ever respond well to being eye-balled, even if you blind their wide vision.
The reason is the great mare who heads each herd uses direct eye contact to
signal punishment to any member. The punishment requires the horse must leave
the herd for a short time. Banished! Exiled!
Only when the mare lowers her eyes in response
to the gentle, direct eye contact of the offender, is he or she allowed back.
Horses are deeply social animals. To be left outside their herd for even a
short time is big punishment.
If you stare into the eyes of a horse,
therefore, he or she will try to back up, will skit and skirt around because
direct eye contact signals they have done something wrong and something bad is
going to happen.
Thatʼs the trouble with a little knowledge, bits of
trivia about the world. It can get in the way when reading an otherwise
satisfying book, such as The Daughter of Siena. One is pushed from the
entertainment, one rises from it, distracted, rather like a fly on fresh
meringue. Now, is it possible to have a fly, which weighs a certain amount, on
top of meringue?
I donʼt know the answer to that and canʼt be expected to, just as I
must not expect writers to have all details of every bit of life at the drip of
an ink pen. However, writers must have details of all their characters in place
throughout the book. Fiorato on page 42 states unequivocally: “In fact the
horseman didnʼt
remember a time when he had ever been afraid.”
A few pages later when we know
the handsome horseman as Riccardo Bruni, Fiorato writes with flourish:
“Riccardo, his knees giving way with fear, allowed himself to be dragged away”
(p.115). She continues: “Ricardo threw up again and again into the ashes, and
as he emptied his stomach on to the razed ground he vowed never to be afraid
again” (p116).
Call me picky, but I like consistency in my
characters. If you tell me on p 42 someone has never been afraid, Iʼll buy in. Iʼm gullible. I want to
believe. I want that character to never have felt fear. Then, if you tell me on
page 115 and 116 heʼs
throwing up with fear, I lose confidence. It makes the rest of the story feel
less authentic.
I did finish the book. I finished it in part to
be able to write this review. I pushed past the description of starlings that fly
up in the sky over and over and over again. I read past the use of the word
“gainsay” as in quarrel or disagree with, three times through about twenty
pages.
I pushed past because the book has one quality
of really good writing: a great story. The accurate history of Violante de
Medici, her unrequited love, her determination to create a more stable city out
of Siena, and especially the intrigue involving a yearly horse race, makes for
a good page turning experience. The historicity of Siena in the early 1500ʼs reads in a compelling,
fascinating manner.
I understand not all editors know everything
and therefore some details of horse sense, and babies at the breast escape
notice. My question is how editors and writer alike might miss the
inconsistency of the character Riccardo Bruni, and the repetition of starlings.
But then, perhaps I am too easily distracted by a little knowledge and too
ready to gainsay.
Charlene
Jones has two books of poetry to her credit, as well as
several individual poems published in many North American magazines, and is at
work on her first novel. In addition, Charlene writes for the Musselman’s Lake
Residents Association website (here), is the Musselman Lake Correspondent for the Stouffville
Free Press. You can read some of Charlene’s poetry here
and here,
her review of R.D. Cain’s Cherry Beach Express here,
and a short essay here.
See Brian Henry's schedule here, including writing
workshops and creative writing courses in Kingston, Peterborough, Toronto,
Mississauga, Brampton, Georgetown, Oakville, Burlington, St. Catharines,
Hamilton, Dundas, Kitchener, Guelph, London, Woodstock, Orangeville, Newmarket,
Barrie, Gravenhurst, Sudbury, Muskoka, Peel, Halton, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.
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