Rachel Blackmore's Costanza reveals the real woman behind a groundbreaking 17th-century sculpture

She has gazed out at viewers for nearly four centuries: eyes wide, lips parted, hair unkempt, expression determined and sensual. The marble portrait of Costanza Piccolomini, one-time mistress of Baroque master Gianlorenzo Bernini, appears so lifelike it could almost speak, but as Rachel Blackmore reminds us in her exceptional debut novel, the real woman deserves a voice that stands independently of the male regard.

In 1630s Rome, Costanza runs a respectable household as the wife of artisan Matteo Bonucelli, a kind but less-than-amorous man. Matteo’s new commission for St. Peter’s Basilica brings the couple into the company of its chief architect, “Il Cavaliere” himself. Attracted by her boldness, Bernini offers to tutor Costanza in art interpretation, events that soon see them tumbling into an affair, a situation her husband—whose interests lie elsewhere—willingly tolerates.

Heady with passion and her new elevated position in society, Costanza sets aside the warnings from Bernini’s old rival and her childhood best friend. Her first encounter with the marble bust Bernini surreptitiously crafts in her image is a masterly scene, showcasing the author’s descriptive prowess alongside Costanza’s realization about her lover’s character, how he views her, and what it means for her reputation.

History records the terrible harm that Bernini inflicted on Costanza, foreshadowed in the chilling prologue, but here the narrative is all hers, revealing in intimate fashion how she reacts to this shocking betrayal and endures a painful loss of pride before gaining sufficient wisdom to come into her own.

This novel serves as a necessary corrective to the historical tendency to glorify talented but violent men while leaving their victims as footnotes. Costanza proves especially powerful since it’s based in fact, and because Blackmore carefully exposes the power differential between the sexes from multiple angles.

Rachel Blackmore's Costanza was published by Renegade Books, an imprint of Dialogue Books/Little Brown UK, in August, and I reviewed it from a personal copy for November's Historical Novels Review. For US-based readers, it's available as an ebook (currently 99 cents on Kindle, for however long this lasts).

Also for the same HNR issue, Katherine Mezzacappa interviewed the author and Harriet Constable (The Instrumentalist) alongside a discussion of her own new novel, The Maiden of Florence, about how they all brought little-known historical Italian women back into the spotlight.  See also Blackmore's piece for The Observer about the real history behind the sculpture of Costanza.

In her author's note, Blackmore explains how she was spurred to write this novel out of fury over the murder of Londoner Sarah Everard in March 2021, and years of "endemic violence against women," as she writes, that has long gone unaddressed. Costanza's story, fortunately, is also one of survival, and if you're curious to learn more about this woman from history's shadows, I recommend it.

Eleanore of Avignon depicts a young woman's courageous path in medieval France

The Provençal city of Avignon in 1347-48 is rife with tension and drama, with the Catholic popes in residence, Queen Joanna of Naples seeking exoneration from her first husband’s murder, the arrival of the plague, and a stressed-out, decimated populace looking for someone to blame. In her debut, DeLozier takes full advantage of her setting’s potential with her exciting story. It’s a quest novel in a sense, encompassing a young woman’s mission to fulfill her calling as a healer while holding her family together in a perilous time.

Eleanore (Elea) and Margot Blanchet are the twin daughters of a papal notary and his late spouse, a talented midwife. One day while seeking herbal remedies outside the city gates, Elea runs into Guy “Guigo” de Chauliac, a man of modest birth who rose to become Pope Clement’s personal physician.

Through a combination of chance and clever negotiations, Elea becomes Guigo’s apprentice and, later, midwife to the expectant Queen Joanna while the deadly pestilence rages through the city. As Guigo and Elea pore over medical texts and tend to patients, desperate to discover a cure, she strives to juggle her multiple responsibilities.

As with other novels where invented characters play big roles in the lives of real people, some plot elements may raise eyebrows, and Elea, while courageous and resourceful, takes some careless risks. The pacing never flags; DeLozier paints the atmosphere clearly without weighty exposition, and the novel’s historical scaffolding shines, especially the details on the two types of plague and their symptoms (as was documented by the real Chauliac, an eminent medieval surgeon).

Elea faces personal danger in the form of a fanatical priest who once targeted her late mother, raising the stakes even higher. An entertaining novel about a woman’s strength and selflessness, unfair prejudice, and the sisterly bond.

Eleanore of Avignon is published next week by Dutton; I'd reviewed it from NetGalley for the Historical Novels Review. The novel made the LibraryReads list for November (the top ten fiction and nonfiction works chosen by US public library staff), which I think is terrific.  A debut novel set in a less familiar place in medieval times, and librarians and their readers are enthusiastic about it.  So let's have more of them! There is a thread related to witchcraft, so the novel fits that historical fiction trend as well.