38 reviews for:

Grzechy rodu Borgiów

Sarah Bower

3.09 AVERAGE

freemindwriting_jelena's review against another edition

4.25

I bought this book when this type of historical fiction was super popular, but ended up reading it 15ish years later. Surprised how much I liked it. Is it long? Yes. Is it full of history and probably unnecessary facts? Yes. Are characters a little one dimensional? Also yes. But has that stopped my from enjoying myself along the way? Absolutely not! Knowing nothing about Borgias, story wasn't what I expected. Few scenes were pretty shocking and nauseating. Still, had a blast!

mistressofroses's review against another edition

1.0

I debated with myself for so long whether to just ditch this book or not, and today I finally decided about a quarter of the way through that a book that annoys me this much isn't worth wasting my life on.

The writing is super tedious, almost as if it were translated from a language that has incredibly long sentences by someone who didn't know how to end them.

There's a lot of assumptions made here about the fact that we're going to find Cesare Borgia a panty-dropper regardless of hearing nothing about him other than that he's handsome (I'm fairly certain the re-brand was hoping that people would be imagining the Cesare from The Borgias as they read this for their characterization). The narrator, too, is supposed to be a "reformed Jewess" at the behest of Lucretzia, but save for a few references to scripture here and there and her pearl-clutching at a very blah telling of the Feast of the Chestnuts, there's really nothing here for that, either, her different-ness just carted out when things are getting a little stale and tension needs to come from somewhere.

I'm actually relieved to be free of this, which is a shame, because the Borgia story deserves a Giant Tome with a great title...just not this one.

nicoleoftheisland's review against another edition

2.0

A disappointment. My obsession with the Borgias rages on but this book is overlong and overwrought. An interesting set up, a converted Jewish woman in Lucrezia Borgia's household, leads to five-hundred pages of nothing. I wish I had given up, but once you've slogged through a third of the book, you feel honour-bound to finish in the hopes that things will look up. They didn't. A thousand wasted opportunities.

contessacarmilla's review against another edition

5.0

Sparkled my love for reading once again.

I plan to reread it soon. So be ready for a lengthy review.

berenikeasteria's review against another edition

3.0

Just want to note first of all, for the benefit of fellow readers, that this book has also been published under the title "The Book of Love".

I’m in quite a jam about how to review this book, because there were certain elements that I really liked a lot, but there were other elements that didn’t make much sense to me at all. A friend described the writing in this book as “well crafted” and that’s something I would agree with wholeheartedly. It was obvious that the author is fluent, in terms of language, and is skilled at constructing her creative writing. Unlike some publications I’ve had the misfortune to read, the writing in this flowed, it didn’t suffer from being poorly constructed or a shambolic mess linguistically: this was fluid, skilled, almost deft. That’s always a positive thing in any novel. Even better, the author wasn’t afraid to show her skill as a writer; again, too often I’ve read novels which felt like they were oversimplified both linguistically and in the plot. There’s none of that here. As a result, whilst I was reading this book I felt genuinely appreciative of Sarah Bower’s writing skill. The dialogue just fit the characters seamlessly, the descriptions sucked me in – honestly I haven’t got a single bad word to say about this aspect of Sins of the House of Borgia.

I didn’t mind the length of the book – actually I relished it. This 533 page novel was a chance to sink my teeth into something meatier, with enough page space to go more in depth and detailed. I didn’t mind reading about all the little details of everyday life, as I was really looking to be wholly immersed in a period for a good long time. However, something about the pacing was slightly off. Violante’s confrontation with Cesare in Rome, around page 375, feels like the primary climax of the story, and the secondary climax is undoubtedly Lucrezia’s revelation which occurs around page 500 through to the end. But in between this Violante goes back to the everyday chores of a lady in waiting to Lucrezia, chugging along through the bubbling little subplot with Gideon, and it’s like the plot moved far too quickly from the big confrontation and back to ordinary status quo again. And then the status quo situation goes on for a bit too long before the second climax wraps up the story.

I can’t comment too much on the historical accuracy, as the Borgias in Renaissance Italy is a new period of interest for me. I only spotted one historical blooper – the reference to an iron maiden - pure invention, the iron maiden never actually existed in the Medieval world. Sarah Bower discloses a few of the deviations she made from the fact in her author’s note at the back, but they are so small and since Bower states outright that she makes no claim to historical accuracy it didn’t bother me in the slightest.

I liked most of the characters, I have to say. I liked the fact that many of them were so ambiguous and grey – again, a recent bugbear of mine in those simplistic novels has been that all the characters in such novels are either saints or sinners with very little in between. Even Cesare, who is essentially responsible for a couple of really despicable acts - it's not as simple as simply labelling him and downright evil. Most of what he does is ruthlessly efficient, and self-interested, but those same actions are all for the benefit of his family and himself, keeping himself in power, making sure his family will be secure from their enemies - and some of the aforementioned despicable acts it's kind of debatable how far his responsibility goes. I like that. People are rarely either wholly good or bad, and I appreciate novels that are true to life and reflect this.

I think my biggest problem with Sins of the House of Borgia was the lead character, Violante. Sometimes I found her frustrating and annoying, and other times she just plain didn’t make sense. She thinks herself in love with Cesare after only two or three meetings, and though he makes it as clear as he can that his passing fancy for her will never be anything of real substance or meaning, Violante’s always thinking about him when she goes off to Ferrara with Lucrezia, hoping and dreaming that something will happen, he’s always in the back of her mind; sometimes she’ll get on with things for a day or two but then she’ll wind up thinking wistfully of Cesare again. I tried to be forgiving about this, after all Violante’s supposed to be all of 15 or 16 years old, and we’ve all been there as teenagers, emotions running high and mistaking one thing for another and giving certain hopes and dreams more weight and importance than they deserve. But, I just found it irritating. Also some of Violante’s actions literally did not make sense to me.

Spoiler

Cesare takes Violante to see bloodsport in the Vatican, and Violante realises to her horror that Jews are being chased down and that one of them is her own brother. She flees in shock and revulsion... but she never asks anyone about it! I expected her to demand of Cesare if her brother was alright, ask him what kind of sick joke he is playing, etc... but she never mentions it again. In another scene, Cesare tells Violante that her son is going to be taken away somewhere, and after this there are several further paragraphs of dialogue and narrative, and then finally, Violante screams and breaks down about the news that her son is being taken from her. This seemed really weird. When someone delivers devastating news, to the point that a person would scream about it, you’d expect them to scream immediately as soon as it is delivered.

Also, I never truly understood why Violante had been brought into Lucrezia’s household, and that question is basically the key premise of the entire story.

Spoiler

It’s confirmed beyond all doubt at the end that Violante was brought in because of her startling resemblance to Lucrezia. Fine, I get that. Violante herself asserts out loud that Lucrezia merely took her on to be a plaything for Cesare, but Lucrezia never actually confirms this, and we still don’t know why Lucrezia would do this. For example, was she hoping to offer Violante to Cesare as a kind of substitute for her now that she was getting married because she knew she had to be faithful to her husband and provide an heir? Plausible, but it’s revealed that Lucrezia and Cesare have had a very frequent sexual relationship in the past and Lucrezia has no problem taking two lovers in the course of the story – so why couldn’t she continue having Cesare as a lover? Maybe she was offering Violante as a substitute because Cesare had contracted the French pox and couldn’t physically be with her anymore? Nah... Cesare is apparently blighted with the affliction sometime before Lucrezia married her second husband (and part of his jealousy over Alfonso of Aragon is due to the fact that Alfonso is handsome and unscarred by the disease that Cesare carries), and the book tells us that the last time Cesare and Lucrezia were together was some time just before her third marriage. Maybe Lucrezia was trying to use Violante as a lure to keep Cesare interested, what with her throwing herself into making her third marriage work and him campaigning all over Italy... but Cesare doesn’t seem that interested in Violante, and he shows far more attention to Lucrezia. Seriously, what were Lucrezia’s reasons behind taking on Violante and using her as a "plaything" for her brother? I can’t fathom what her end purpose was in doing this.

However, the ending raised an important question for me. The ending reveals that there’s been a whole other story going on all the time that we haven’t known about and

Spoiler

that the deep love story here is the "star-crossed lovers" relationship between Cesare and Lucrezia. In fact most of what Lucrezia describes has passed between them occurred long before the book’s first page, long before Violante appears on the scene. She passes through the novel almost totally oblivious to this relationship, and since the novel is written in first person so do we, as the readers. I cannot understand then why Cesare and Lucrezia’s love was not the story here. It is made clear by the very revelatory nature of the ending that what has actually been going on between them would have made for a far more interesting story – that there is an unbelievably deep relationship between Cesare and Lucrezia, complicated enormously by their need to keep it secret as well as act prudently and politically for the good of the Borgia family as a whole – Violante’s story is much less interesting; Cesare never loves her, she kinda gets screwed over at every turn, and her story ends on a real bum note. To my mind this story should have been about Cesare and Lucrezia and told from their point of view, or at least third person generally centred about the Borgia family – there isn’t really a need for Violante at all, the real story here is all about Cesare and Lucrezia.

In conclusion, what did I think of this book? I’ve got to admit I enjoyed it at least in some aspects. The writing was excellent, for the most part the characters were subtle, and I really enjoyed being immersed in the world of the Borgias. The problem was that whilst I didn’t actively dislike Violante, she was frustrating and annoying, a few elements of the story didn’t make sense or weren’t explained properly, and in the end I can’t understand why this was Violante’s story when it so obviously should have been Cesare and Lucrezia’s story. If you pick up Sins of the House of Borgia you won't find the Borgias' story here, they are merely the richly detailed background to Violante's story. Sarah Bower is a good writer, I just think she needs to work on becoming a good story-teller.

6 out of 10.

heathers_to_bee_read's review against another edition

1.0

I hated everything about this book.

mitreslupo's review against another edition

Wenn ich ein Buch über einen Monat nicht mehr anfasse, weil es so schlecht ist und dann nach zehn Seiten beschließe, dass ich guten Büchern, die ich noch lesen könnte, wertvolle Zeit stehle, ist es ein wirklich schlechtes Buch (zumindest auf den ersten 83 Seiten).

elliania's review against another edition

3.0

Premessa: come (grazie al cielo) confermato anche dall’autrice nella postfazione, nel recensire questo libro lo considererò un romanzo ispirato alla storia dei Borgia e non, in senso stretto, un romanzo “sui Borgia”. L’autrice si prende diverse libertà di interpretazione della storia, alcune buone, altre, a mio avviso, molto meno.
Lo stratagemma della narrazione è abbastanza comune stando ai diversi romanzi sul tenore che si trovano in giro, ovvero schiaffare un personaggio originale a narrare la storia da un punto di vista esterno a quello dei protagonisti storici coinvolti.
In questo caso Violante, ebrea convertita al servizio di Lucrezia, è un personaggio realmente menzionato nelle cronache dell’epoca (l’autrice sostiene fosse tra le donne che accompagnarono Lucrezia da Roma a Ferrara, anche se a me risulta - Bellonci dixit - che si trattava di una delle ragazze che entrarono al suo servizio proprio a Ferrara, su ordine del Duca).
La narrazione è limitata in un certo senso da questo punto di vista; il risultato è tutto sommato buono, nel senso che il “filtro” attraverso cui viene narrata la storia è tutto sommato realistico. I film mentali che la ragazza si fa su Cesare possono essere fastidiosi e stucchevoli a lungo andare (ci sono interi capitoli su di lei che si strugge per Cesare, dopo un po’ anche basta), con picchi in cui lei si autodefinisce “l’amante di Roma, la prediletta del Valentino” che a una prima occhiata mi è parsa solo pessima narrativa, ma con il senno di poi non era che caratterizzazione.

Spoiler

Il grande punto positivo di questo romanzo è che l’autrice non si perde, come spesso accade, nella celebrazione della sua protagonista. Non cade nell’errore, fin troppo facile, di consacrarla attraverso gli altri personaggi. Il suo status di favorita di Lucrezia e donna amata da Cesare si sgretola come cenere e si rivela una mera illusione, un gioco di maschere fin dall’inizio, una farsa nella quale lei è cascata con tutte le scarpe senza possibilità di fuga.
Sono dei Borgia un po’ “stereotipati”, se vogliamo, quelli descritti da questo romanzo, relegati nella leggenda nera di una famiglia calcolatrice e priva di scrupoli, che non esita a usare qualsiasi persona come pedina, fosse anche all’interno della propria famiglia. Un lavoro migliore lo fa con gli Este, in particolare con le figure di Ippolito, Giulio e Ferrante. Anche qui prendendosi diverse libertà (dipinge Giulio d’Este come un principe delle favole invece che come un Narciso innamorato del suo stesso riflesso, e dell’omosessualità che attribuisce a Ferrante non mi risulta ci sia traccia nella documentazione storica), sebbene la riduzione della faida tra Ippolito e Giulio alla sola figura di Angela mi sembri sempre riduttivo, così come la minimizzazione di Ippolito ad amante geloso, ferito nell’onore per essere stato scaricato. È stata molto più interessante invece la narrazione della Congiura (e dell'inettitudine con cui è stata portata avanti).
Purtroppo il punto di vista limitato di Violante costringe l’autrice a non approfondire avvenimenti molto importanti del periodo come la presa di Urbino e la strage di Senigallia, e in generale tutta la parte politica delle azioni di Cesare come duca di Romagna; una scelta giusta, perché al contrario sarebbe stata una forzatura, ma resta comunque un peccato che pagine così interessanti vengano lasciate fuori o appena accennate.
Finiti quelli che possono essere i pregi, il libro, purtroppo, non è privo di difetti. Prima di tutto, il linguaggio; ogni tanto scivola nei termini moderni come “nursery”, “bulldog”, “dottoressa”, “cantante sulla cresta dell’onda” (non so quanti siano problemi di traduzione, sta di fatto che ci sono), e memorabile è la scena in cui Violante di rivolge a Ferrante d’Este dandogli della “donnicciola” e del codardo, e in generale prendendolo a male parole, ignorando totalmente quello che doveva essere l’atteggiamento di una dama di compagnia nei confronti dei figlio di un Duca.
Il plot-twist telefonatissimo finale aggiunge realismo alla storia, privando, come ho già detto, Violante di tutte le sue illusioni e sogni a occhi aperti. Telefonatissimo, sì, ma giusto e adeguato al tipo di storia che l’autrice stava portando avanti. Non c’è un lieto fine per Violante, non c’è redenzione; è solo la storia di una ragazza ingenua che si è ritrovata pedina di una pantomima crudele, che ha giocato con lei come con centinaia di altre persone allo stesso modo. E questo in un certo senso è stato ciò che ai miei occhi ha salvato questa storia dall’essere solo un romanzo rosa senza troppo spessore.

sunspot's review against another edition

4.0

Having a fondness for European history as I have, the lives of the Borgia family were not unknown to my when I won this book in a GoodReads giveaway -- indeed, I entered the giveaway because I was already acquainted with their colourful lives and had always found them a fascinating family.

"Sins of the House of Borgia" -- an ill-fitting title, I think, but given the upcoming series, I can understand the choice -- follows the life of Esther Sarfati, a Jewess who converts to Christianity when she becomes a lady-in-waiting for Lucrezia Borgia shortly before her third marriage at age 21. Across its 544 pages, Esther (later Donata, then Violante) becomes entangled in the lives of the powerful and corrupt Borgia family, becoming a confidant to one and the lover to another. Fifteen years -- years of births, deaths, love, hate, and constant struggles for power -- pass between the time Esther becomes Lucrezia's lady-in-waiting and when she finally flees Europe, escaping to the New World and leaving everything and everyone she knew and loved behind. The novel's epilogue is fitting and sad, an appropriate end to the lengthy confession of an aging woman with a remarkable past. Those looking for a clean, happy ending will likely be disappointed, of course, but I found the epilogue to be my favourite part of the novel.

lazylys's review against another edition

4.0

Quando diciamo di avere perso ogni speranza, ciò che realmente facciamo è sfidare la signora Fortuna a dimostrarci che abbiamo torto.

I peccati dei Borgia, devo ammetterlo, mi ha conquistata.

Non è un libro fenomenale ed è pieno di difetti (sia narrativi che linguistici, anche se questi sono forse in parte colpa di una traduzione non perfetta), ma è, credo, un libro onesto. Onesto con se stesso e che non si lascia a facili scorciatoie, a facili qualunquismi, a banale felicità.

E' un libro profondamente triste, crudele e triste, ma onesto e questa onestà è un pugno che fa male ma che ammalia e affascina.

E' un libro con una protagonista che non è la protagonista, con un eroe che non è un eroe, con alle spalle forse la più affascinante, e ricca, e piena di bellezza e contraddizioni delle epoche di questa nostra Italia.

E' un libro che non è Rinascimento Privato, che non ne ha la sensibilità né lo stile, pur intrecciando gli stessi anni e in parte anche gli stessi protagonisti.

Ma, di nuovo, è un libro onesto che non tenta di trafugare i fatti per qualcosa che non sono. E che per questo rende ancor più vividi, affascinanti e indimenticabili i suoi protagonisti.

E' un libro non perfetto, ma chi lo è?